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suhsweet · 3 months ago

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double kisses ⟡ csc

wc: 5.7k+ | pair: idol!seungcheol x nonidolf!reader | genre: angst, fluff | tags: 65% sadness & 35% fluff, breaking up but getting back together, mention of divorce as a lighthearted joke, mention of being in the public eye, long-distance relationship, it is cute til it aint and then its cute again

summary: you and seungcheol, the leader of a world-famous boygroup, come up with a signal that he can use to let you know he's thinking of you even in front of the whole world... but is it enough?

authors note: i have reborn. yeah we rushed it but it's still something noooooo?

No one said dating an idol was easy. Probably because doing so would be admitting that they were dating an idol, and risk their partner's career.

However, you are dating an idol, specifically Choi Seungcheol. You of all people would know that it was challenging. Not only was he the leader of Seventeen, but Seventeen was taking over the world at a rapid pace— demand for them was at a high. This meant that you basically had to share your boyfriend.

The irregular schedules made it hard to see him. When he wasn't with you, he was either working or touring. Hours were irregular, and being apart never got easier.

You spent many nights alone wondering if this was all worth it. You had someone who you found to be your other half, who was devoted and loyal to you like no other. You desperately wanted to shout it out from the rooftops:

Seungcheol is mine!

Yet the world would come down upon the two of you if a whisper of your relationship came out. As sweet as Carats are, you feared the paparazzi or sasaengs who would take advantage of something so special to you. Most of all, you didn't want to risk Seungcheol's career. It was a dream that he worked so hard on ever since he was a teenager.

In front of the TV, his body is snuggled to your side, his head a welcome weight on your shoulder. His hair tickles your cheek as you glance down at him, to his lashes and down his nose. It's a reminder, physical evidence that he's right here with you.

You aren't paying attention to the screen. You know he isn't either.

His tour starts tomorrow. Two nights in Incheon, then he's off to Japan, and then the rest of the world. Two months of touring in a completely different continent, and then he's back for a month to promote the group's next comeback. Then he's back on tour once more.

You had a list of clocks, all set to each country that he'll be visiting on your phone. The both of you shared locations. You even had the widget app that lets you draw or write little messages to each other.

Seungcheol's left a whole basket full of his clothes for you to wear when you miss him. He has a bottle of your fragrance, one of your beanies, and a pair of your favorite Gentle Monster sunglasses.

The two of you have prepared the best you can to be apart for months on end– little pieces of each other to make up for the oceans that will separate you.

You've been trying to remain optimistic, but you know it wouldn't be enough. Knowing that it's 3am in Singapore won't make up for the loss of his arms around you. Seeing his cute little drawings appear on your phone screen won't make up for the lack of his sweet kisses.

A pressure presses from behind your eyes, and you quickly blink the moisture away. It doesn't work. A tear escapes. And then another. With your eyes squeezed shut, you bury your face in your lover's hair and inhale his scent, the one you've associated to home.

You don't want to cry. To leave Seungcheol with this image of you – unhappy and upset, is cruel. You need to be excited for him to travel the world and meet people who adore his group. He's going to be doing what he loves every night! Being on stage and performing with his family! Why are you crying?!

It's not like he's going to be gone forever. He's told you that he wants a future with you. One day, he'll retire. You'll get married, have a tonne of kids, and travel the world for as long as you want.

You just need to be patient. Don't be selfish.

Except you are.

All you want to do is beg him to stay, not to leave you. You want to tell him that you're scared he'll forget about you. You trust his loyalty, but you can't help the doubt that tickles the back of your mind.

A ragged breath escapes you, and Seungcheol's head immediately jerks up. His hand is on your wrist before you can block your face from his view.

"Baby," he breathes.

"I-I'm sorry," you whimper pathetically, and then you're immediately gathered in his arms. Now that he knows that you're crying, it's as if your body has given you no choice but to let the floodgates open.

You grip his shirt, just above his heart as he tries to soothe you. Sobs rack your body. Seungcheol squeezes you close to him and presses his lips to your head.

Deep down, in the deepest, ugliest depths of your conscience; you want to beg him to quit. You want him out of the public eye and to live a quiet life with you.

As soon as the thought enters your mind, you immediately shove it away. Shame floods you. You knew what you were getting into when Seungcheol asked you to be his girlfriend. He warned you.

Don't be selfish.

Your sobs eventually evolve into whimpers and sniffs. Seungcheol's hand smoothes circles across your back, and it helps you pull yourself together.

The two of you are silent for another five minutes. The sounds coming from the TV fills the room, the noise becoming a little clearer while the thundering of your pulse in your ears quiets.

Seungcheol, ever so patient, murmurs 'I love you's repeatedly, and presses kisses into your hairline.

When he sees that you've calmed down, he cautiously asks if you want to talk about it. When you look at him and see the concern in his gaze, you almost cry again.

But you don't. Instead, you nod quietly.

You explain your fears of him being away. Won't he forget about you? Won't the time apart make him bored of you? He'll be too busy to think about you, let alone set time aside for calls and messages.

Seungcheol immediately stops you. His thick brows are furrowed, as he wills you to look at him. He makes sure you're looking into his eyes. "There is never a moment when you aren't on my mind. When I'm on stage, I think about you and hope that you're watching. When I exercise, I think about how I want to impress you with my muscles. When I'm on a plane, I wonder if you've eaten and if you're safe."

Your heart squeezes. Every word sounds like a vow. You believe him. How could you not? His expression is imploring, imploring you to believe him because he desperately wants you to know it's true.

"When I'm with the guys, I think about how much you'd be giggling if you were there to witness their bullshit. They always ask about you, so I can't even forget about you even if I tried! When I go through hair and makeup, I think about the looks that you liked and ask the stylists to recreate it.

I don't want you to ever think that I'll forget about you. You are my life. Everything I do is for you."

Your lips quirk up into a small smile. "You're my life too." Yet, a part of you is still unsure. "Two months is a long time."

"It'll feel like years. But you'll be on my mind for every second."

"I'll be watching every single one of your fancams that gets posted," you warn playfully. "Don't flirt too hard with the fans."

He throws his head back to laugh, and it's a beautiful sound. A giggle of your own joins it.

He looks to you once more, a soft smile on his lips and his eyes sparkling with what could only be described as adoration. "We should come up with a signal for me to use."

Your head tilts in confusion.

"You said you'll be watching every fancam of me. Give me a signal I can use to show you that I'm thinking about you."

You suck in a gush of air as your chest warms at his eagerness to make you happy, even while across the world from you.

"You'd do that?"

"You seriously think that I wouldn't? C'mon! Give me something."

You rack your brain for an idea. You think about the little habits that you both have, and ways in which you can turn them into a gesture that can easily be overlooked, but unique enough to know that it's purely for you.

Immediately think about his habit of kissing you twice.

His lips press against yours once. "One kiss for you." He leans in once more. "One kiss for me."

You're walking in the park at night, when there is hardly anyone out. He brings your joined hand to his lips, pressing two kisses into the back of your hand.

As soon as he steps into your apartment after a long day at work, you're in his arms. He buries his head into the crook of your neck and kisses it twice: once to let you know he's home, and again to let him know that he's finally reunited with you.

With your hand flat, you tap your fingers to your lips twice and bring your arm out as if blowing a kiss.

His gaze softens as he recognises where you got your idea from. One for you, and one for me. He double taps his lips then brings his arm away to blow a kiss in one fluid move. "Like this?"

"I think it's good. Looks natural."

⟡

It's the first song of the concert, and as soon as the camera shows Seungcheol on screen, he's sends a double kiss.

You're sitting next to Jeonghan dressed like you're part of the staff. The face mask you have on hides both your identity, and your blush from the cheeky gaze of Seungcheol's right hand man.

"Can't believe you find him more attractive than me," Jeonghan teases. You knock your shoulders with his. "I might be doing my military service, but at least I'll still be in the same country as you."

As the concert goes on you look out for your signal and you're impressed by the way Seungcheol makes it look so natural. Sometimes he only double taps his lips, looking into the camera with a knowing look.

He'll explain to you later on that if he only does the original signal, it is a little repetitive but he still wants you to know that he's thinking of you. You'll tell him that he doesn't have to do it for every song or every time the camera's focused on him. He'll pout and tell you that he's brainstorming of other ways he can do your signal without completely transforming it.

At the end of the concert for the encore, all Seungcheol can do is send double kisses to the camera of every fan he can see. As Aju Nice turns into Fighting, he starts sending double kisses to the upper floors of the stadium.

Finally, he sends them to the balcony. The fans think that he's sending them to Jeonghan but you know they're for you. Some of the other members notice and join him. Most of them simply blow kisses but some of the other observant members, like Mingyu and The8, send double kisses the same way Seungcheol does. Dokyeom in particular makes a show of blowing kisses in an excessively flirtatious manner, only stopping when he sees Vernon’s confused stare from the corner of his eye.

The sight has you feeling like you're glowing. This is enough, you decide. To see Seungcheol surrounded by his dearest friends, doing what makes him happy, reminding you that he's thinking of you.

⟡

"Hi baby!" Seungcheol greets you, it's awfully bright wherever he is. The phone lights up your darkened room.

"Hi Cheollie," your voice is hoarse. It's four in the morning, where you are. You have a few hours of sleep left before you have to wake up for work.

"Shit, were you sleeping?" Seungcheol's concerned expression fills the screen. "I'm sorry baby, I thought the clock said it's four pm in Korea... Go back to sleep baby, I'll call you later."

"Okay... I love you." You nod, already feeling sleep come to you.

"I love you," he responds. Your eyes flutter close. Faintly you hear the sound of Seungcheol kissing the phone twice, and the sombre sound of the call ending.

⟡

"How many fancams did you find today, baby?" Seongcheol asks.

He's snuggled in bed just as you're walking home from work.

"Hmm, around eight I think. I didn't get to look properly because of work," you hum. "I don't think it works for Super."

Seungcheol laughs. "I told you, I'm thinking of an alternative for the cooler songs. I even enlisted Hoshi to help me."

"Great, so now Hoshi knows that I'm insecure and needy," you joke with a pout.

"No love. To Hoshi, I'm the one who's insecure and needy. Did you see my sign during God of Music?"

You laugh, "I did! You were so cute."

Seungcheol preens from your praise. A drunken smile is plastered on his face, one that lets you know that he's exhausted. His words are slurred together. "I miss you baby."

"I miss you more," you promise. "Nine days to go, but who's counting?"

Cheol smirks. "Time will fly. I can't wait to have you sit on my face again."

"Cheol!" You scold.

He cackles into your AirPods. "Hey! Two months is a long time! Lotion and my hand are nothing compared to my gorgeous, stunning girlfriend. You've ruined me."

"Gross!"

"I miss you," Seungcheol sighs again once the comedic air of your banter settles.

I miss you so much more. It hurts so much. I don't ever want you to leave again, you want to say. Spend a week in bed with me to make up for your absence.

Instead, you ask about his schedule once he gets home. You want to see if you'll have at least a full day with him. You don't even need to go out or do anything special. You just want to be with him.

The upcoming comeback schedule ruins your hopes. Every day, there is something happening. Between practice, fittings, music show pre-recording, variety show filming, and radio interviews; the only time you'll get to spend with him is whenever he's home. There are days where he won't even be able to go home to sleep.

You carefully control your facial expressions from showing betrayal, and grief. You nod slowly, and try to give him a genuine smile. He sees through your act, but stays quiet. He knows there's nothing that he can do to help. Instead he tells you a funny story from tour that he hopes will distract you. It works.

⟡

The grief of your heartbreak is consuming.

It's been a week since you and Seungcheol have broken up. A week since he left to go back on tour, and a week since you've told him that you can't handle him leaving again.

You couldn't eat, or sleep, or let alone breathe ever since you left your shared apartment with a duffle bag of your things. Seungcheol insisted that you stay since he's going to be gone for a while anyway but you refuse. To be surrounded by your memories, by what could've been your future, was to torture yourself.

On the day that he flys out, you try to forget that he won't be in the same country as you. The members send you messages as well but you try to be brief in your messages in case they find a way to convince you to get back together with Seungcheol. You try to stay busy, but he seemed to live in your mind.

In the month that he was back in Seoul, you hardly got to see him. His schedule was so jam packed that he might as well have been overseas again. Most nights, sometimes well after midnight, you'd hear him come into your room. He'd press two kisses into your temple, and tell you that he loves you. You'd pretend to be asleep. You didn't want him to deal with you crying after being at work for long hours.

He leaves to sleep on the couch, so as to not disturb you.

In the morning he's gone once more.

You had a massive fight on the last night that Seungcheol was in the country. He tells you that he knows you've been pretending to sleep. You tell him that he should've slept in the same bed as you. You don't know what you want from him, since he can't do anything for you. It's a bitter truth that the both of you have to face. You're the one who brings up the idea of breaking up, and he doesn't stop you.

You don't want Seungcheol to deal with the ball and chain he's left back home. Seungcheol doesn't want you to deal with waiting around for him to return.

Now, an ever repeating cycle continues. You wake up, realize that you and Seungcheol have broken up. You give yourself a minute to cry, or just stare blankly at the bedroom wall. You remember that said wall doesn't belong to the home you had with him. You get out of bed, get ready for work, and then work. Sometimes you have dinner with friends or family. Other times, you have dinner alone. You go for walks, or play badminton. Badminton reminds you of Seungkwan, and thus reminds you of Seungcheol. You stop playing badminton.

Sometimes, the days are long. Those days are the days where the Seungcheol's absence are even more profound and you grieve what could have been your future with him. Other times, the days fly by and you wonder what you're doing with yourself.

On the tenth day since your breakup, you give in to the need to see Seungcheol. You open your social media for the first time in a while and are immediately presented with a fancam of Seungcheol from the night before.

The familiar chaos that is Aju Nice fills your room, as you watch Seungcheol interact with fans. He does his signature lopsided smile, looks into the camera, and sends a double kiss... It's unmistakable. He taps his lips twice, before swinging his arm out towards the camera.

'his energy seems a little down today... i hope he's okay :(', one of the replies say.

'scoups has been interacting with fans like crazy this time! i'm so jealous'

In another fancam, he tilts his head back, taps his lips twice with both of his hands and thrusts them towards the ceiling. Briefly, his face is cracked with vulnerability and remorse before it is fixed back into his charming, idol smile. Some will interpret it as him as thanking whatever deity for allowing him to live the life that he has. Really, he's just asking for a second chance.

Your heart twinges when you watch it happen. More than heartbreak, you feel the devastating guilt of breaking Seungcheol's heart when he's done nothing wrong.

What was the point of breaking up if you were happier together? But that's the thing isn't it? You wouldn't actually be with him. He's timezones away, and hardly around for you to truly feel like you're with him. You couldn't let yourself go through that. However, was not having him at all better than having pieces? Fragments?

Certainly, it hurt to be away from him during the first two months of tour. But now that you've broken up with no contact, the pain is even worse.

⟡

A week later, your phone lights up. You expect it to be your friends, or one of the members who’ve decided to call themselves ‘children of divorce’.

Instead, it’s Seungcheol. Your heart lurches at his name, and your mind shuffles through a million different reasons as to why he's texting you.

cheol 💕: hey, just checking in… how are you?

you: i’m good, how about you? how’s tour?

cheol 💞: could be better. tour’s been fun, just got to italy. the kids want to drag me to the colosseum so i can experience rome the way they did.

Your heart warms, knowing his members are taking good care of him. He tells you about what's been going on. You tell him about work, and what's going on with your own friends. It's like you haven't broken up at all, and you almost ask him to FaceTime before you remember that you're no longer entitled to that privilege.

Ten minutes of catching up quickly pass by before he has to leave. You immediately wonder if he'll text you again soon. Or if you should.

⟡

You're at Dongdaemun, doing some shopping for some new clothes. Retail therapy didn't work, but it was a nice distraction. You try not to think about what Seungcheol would think of the top you're holding up. He'd like it... Not that it matters. You throw the garment over your arm, deciding to buy it but not because your ex would like it.

Ex... You hate having to call him that. You haven't texted him since he reached out after the break up. You try not to be sad about it, you broke up with him after all.

Over your shoulder, you hear someone call your name.

"Mr Choi," you start in surprise.

"Please," his smile is warm. As if he doesn't know his son's heart is broken because of you. "I told you to call me abeoji. Dad."

"Abeoji," you correct yourself hesitantly.

“How are you? It’s been a while,” the man asks gently.

"I'm..." Broken, hollow. Irrevocably sorry for hurting Cheol. "Okay. How are you?"

"Could be better. I'm going to get myself something to drink. Would you care to join me?"

The cafe is located on the upper floors of Hyundai City Outlet. It overlooks the entrance to the building, and allows you to look at Dongdaemun Plaza. At night it's a beautiful sight.

"Seungcheol told me about what happened," Seungcheol's dad says, getting your attention.

Your heart skips a beat upon hearing Seungcheol's name. The hollowness in your chest deepens. Immediately you look down at the beverage in your hands, afraid to see the disdain you expect on his dad's face. "Oh. I-It was the hardest decision I've had to make. I want you to know that I didn't want to hurt him, but I think this is how things should be."

"I know, I warned him about this happening," Mr Choi responds.

You look up at him, and his smile is still warm. There's a tinge of sadness, or pity. But no hatred. The similarities between Seungcheol and his dad has your heart squeezing painfully. You miss him so much.

"I don't know how you do it. Having a son who is hardly there to see you..."

"The way I see it, my blood runs through him, so I'm with him wherever he is... My wife on the other hand? She's my other half. When we're apart, I can't even breathe. As Seungcheol's partner, you must be going through something similar.”

You note the way he doesn't say 'ex'.

"How is he?"

"Looks as heartbroken as you, probably feeling the same as well."

Nausea mixes with the guilt in your stomach. You don't know how to respond.

"I'm not telling you what to do, but wouldn't it be better to have him in your life than not at all?"

At your silence, he sighs and goes quiet for several beats. “His mother and I are flying out to watch his concert in LA in three weeks. If you want to come with us, we’ll get the company to organize something. He doesn’t even have to know. You can just go to see how you feel.”

“Abeoji…”

“His mother misses you, you know. If not for him, consider going for her. Call it a family trip.”

⟡

It’s been three weeks since you broke up with Seungcheol. On the days when your reserve is weak, you give in to watching recent fancams of his. Unfalteringly, he continues to do your signal.

He hasn’t forgotten you at all. The thought crushes you inside.

If you got back with him, what would have to change? You’ve been telling yourself that there was nothing either of you could do. Were you okay with dealing with the irregular schedules? The fans? All eyes on him?

You've come back to your apartment with the intent of picking up a change of clothes and doing some laundry. The left side of the closet has all of your things, while the right has Seungcheol's. You suck on your bottom lip in contemplation as you consider taking one of his jackets. It's not like he'd know since he'll be gone for another couple months.

Your broken heart encourages you to give in. So you do. You pull out one of his cardigans, your favorite, from the back of his stuffed closet. Your heart squeezes at the familiar scent, and you hug it to yourself. Then you hear the sound of something crinkling in the pocket.

It's a balled up piece of paper with faint pen markings. Flattening it out, your breath is drawn from your lungs.

All across the page are random words and scribbles, but they manage to make you choke out a sob nonetheless.

park?

restaurant?

holiday?

jewellers — ask uncle

sizing – to check

seungkwan sing? > Get tissues for him

diamond > check her ig and pin > bigger = better ㅋㅋ

family? private

mr and mrs choi

honeymoon locations?

mrs choi.

my wife ♡

⟡

The distant sound of screaming fans seem to embody how you're feeling perfectly in that moment. Eomeoni, Seungcheol's mother, has her arm linked with yours and her warmth, weight, and energy are grounding. Abeoji is next to her. The three of you are walking down the private hallway to enter the section with your seats.

Eomeoni sits between you and Seungcheol's dad, the woman constantly turning to you as if checking that you haven't run off yet. She places a warm hand on your knee, gently soothing your jittery leg.

Joshua's family comes to join your section, sitting in the row behind you. Josh's mom and Eomeoni appraise each other after being apart for so long. They turn to you.

Eomeoni leans in to say something to the other woman, but you can hardly hear because of the pre-show music blasting from the speakers. Whatever she says though, Josh's mom looks intrigued.

You introduce yourself to Joshua's mom and family just as the show begins. The show goes as well as it did back in Incheon. You notice minor differences, improvements that the guys have made after months of touring. You try to train your expression when you spot Seungcheol.

He doesn't do the double kiss for every song, but it takes your breath away every time he does. Your gaze flickers to his parents, and they hardly react. The signal really is something only for the two of you.

Towards the end of the show, you forget that you know the group personally and become absorbed as a Carat. You borrow Abeoji's light-stick and wave along to the songs. You laugh in delight as you jump with Seungcheol's parents to the encore song and translate the members' English ments for the non-English speaking family members.

Later on you can’t keep your eyes from the door of the waiting room. Waiting inside with Seungcheol and Joshua’s families, the conversations milling around you is all white noise.

“Mom!” Dokyeom wails as he spots you as soon as he steps inside. The others greet you with a mix of happiness, excitement, and apprehensiveness.

“You guys did really well,” you say as you grab the phone off Eomeoni, who silently gestured for you to take a photo of her and Abeoji with Chan and Seungkwan.

“Oh let me in too!” Dokyeom yelps as he stumbles into the frame.

You don’t even bother taking a photo with the members, too concerned about the one that is the sole reason you’re even here in the first place. So you sit in a corner of the room that has a set of sofas, joined by a couple of Joshua’s cousins.

You’re asking about one of the cousin’s outfit for a party they’re going to as you do a quick headcount of the boys, and of the managers. One manager missing, one member missing.

“Where is he?” You sigh to yourself.

“Doing leader stuff,” Mingyu says as he sits on the arm of the couch beside you. You smile at him in greeting and he pats your head softly, knowing why you’re here.

You sink into the sofa, letting your head fall back on the headrest of the couch and letting Mingyu’s large form block your view of the door.

He’ll come when he’s ready.

But then you hear the delighted exclamations of Eomeoni and you couldn’t stop your head from perking up even if you tried.

All sound fades as you watch Seungcheol enter the room. He’s smiling about something with the manager accompanying him as he rips out his in-ears and grabbing a water bottle from a nearby table. Then he spots his mother and his face lights up with the toothy grin that you haven’t seen in so long.

You can't stop the tears the well up, or the sudden tightness in your chest as it brims with emotion. The loss that you've managed to sweep under the rug is suddenly coming back to you full force.

He reunites with his parents, accepting their kisses and warm embraces. Abeoji rubs soothing circles into his child’s back, and Eomeoni has Seungcheol’s face in between her small hands.

Sound comes back to you while you watch the family of three catch-up.

Mingyu nudges you. “You gonna say hi or what?”

“Nope. I think I’ll hide.” You slump in your seat and duck your head behind Mingyu’s knee. You rub a soothing palm over your chest… Has your heart ever beaten this fast before?

Mingyu chuckles and gets up. You watch with growing horror as the tallest member approaches the Chois, clapping a hand to Seungcheol’s shoulder and muttering something into his ear. When your ex-boyfriend’s gaze darts over to where you sit, you smile awkwardly and then your eyes dart down into your lap to avoid seeing his reaction.

In your peripheral, with much fear, Seungcheol’s form slowly grows closer to you, until his feet are placed in front of yours and you can see his legs are standing in front of you. And then he squats down to look up at your face.

“Hello,” his voice is precious. It’s so full of warmth, and hope… And fear.

You look at him and suck in a breath. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to him. His eyes gleam as they gaze up at you and his lips are spread thin in contemplation.

“Hi,” you whisper, sending him a timid smile.

“You wanna go somewhere to talk?”

You nod, despite the nerves that set in as soon as you hear his words. He stands up and offers you his hand, and you take it. As your palms meet and fingers slide into place, it’s like you’ve completed a jigsaw puzzle. All the pieces are fitting into place and your heart warms. How were you crazy enough to give up on this? On him?

Looking up, Seungcheol’s bittersweet smile seems to express the same sentiment.

⟡

1.5 YEARS LATER

“Whatcha doing?”

You pointedly rustle the magazine in front of your face. “Doing some light reading.”

“Oh yeah? What about? Looks interesting.”

“Yeah there’s this super hot idol who just announced his engagement to this amazing, stunning, angel-on-earth of a woman…”

“Wow, what a lucky man,” Seungcheol settles onto the sofa next to your feet, pulling them onto his lap.

“Seems like his fiancée’s the lucky one: ‘I’ve always said that my members and my family come first before anything else’,” you say in your best imitation of your future husband. He laughs then shoves your shoulder lightly.

The engagement band that he proudly wears on his left ring finger catches the light, and your chest never fails to warm at the sight.

In the fire-escape of the venue where Seungcheol just performed a sold-out concert with his group, the two of you sat on the stairs for what must've been an hour. In short, you both agreed to never go for that long without the other ever again. For the rest of your lives.

Things didn't work out immediately. For a few months, your relationship still struggled as the two of you worked out how best to go about your long-distance relationship, but when you figured it out? Oh, was it good.

At the end of that year, on Christmas Eve, Seungcheol proposed to you. It was adorable; the two of you bundled up in thick puffer jackets with wooly scarves and beanies and masks so that only your eyes were visible. You were taking a walk along the Han River, a ridiculous idea since it was winter, but the festive lights made it all worth it.

You cried as he bore his heart out to you, his beautiful round eyes glistening with tears. You knew that the hand holding up the little velvet wasn't trembling from the cold, but from nerves.

As soon as the ring slid onto your finger, Seungcheol was immediately tackled into a conveniently placed pile of snow nearby.

A little while after the proposal, you propose to Seungcheol as well. Call it feminism, or equality. Really, he just told you that he wanted an engagement ring of his own.

Immediately, news agencies hear tips about a peculiar silver band that never seems to part from Seventeen's S.Coup's ring finger. Fans notice his latest contents include him having a cute, dazed smile. His instagram posts always seem to feature a photo of his left hand.

The one thing that hasn't changed though, is that he continues to give you all of his double-kisses.

#svt #svt imagines #scoups x reader #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seventeen scoups #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol fanfic #scoups fanfic #scoups imagines #seungcheol images

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lovedahlia · 5 months ago

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LOVERBOY ! SOLDIER BOY HEADCANONS ( 18+ ! )

. . . bc i'm feeling so incredibly mentally ill rn. lemme live in this fantasy. that i believe to be true & how my pookie beloved would BEEEEE. idc if u think it's ooc this is my canon.

ben greets you every time you see each other with a kiss on the back of the hand and some murmured words, like, "hey pretty."

he's constantly showering you with gifts.

flowers for when he does something bad, with a messy scrawled note that says "sorry for making you cry. kisses." or, "sorry i punched a hole through the door. love you." or, "not apologizing for beating that guy's face in. sorry it upset you though. kisses."

chocolates for when he comes over. two boxes, one for him, one for you, because he knows ( from previous experience ) that it irritates you when he'd steal from yours.

( it does not stop him still from stealing )

jewelry! every time he sees something that you would look pretty in! and he does the clasps for you.

he's a nuzzler. you made the mistake once of mentioning how his beardburn tickled and now he doesn't just aim to leave it between your thighs but he rubs his face on your neck and throat like a cat.

he's still gruff as fuck, but it's with more intent, now. he'll bend you over and throw your legs around and move you as he pleases but kisses each part along the way.

like. he puts your legs over his shoulders when you're pinned beneath him and kisses your ankle. he puts you on your hands and knees and trails little kisses down your spine.

don't get him started on hickeys. seriously. he bites.

the aftercare is so lovely with him :( he absolutely doesn't listen to your insistences that you're fine. he's already running a bath for you, WITH bubbles, even though it wastes your pretty soaps.

he just likes to be able to scoop some bubbles up and pile them on your head while you're in there <3 bc oh yeah, he is washing u. don't even try to argue.

long days = him not saying a word when he gets home = he's just immediately snatching you from wherever you are to drag you to the nearest seat so he can sit with you in his lap. many dinners have been burnt bc of this.

he likes when you play with his hair! it makes him feel like something gentle and kind and deserving of it, when you treat him so lovely. even though he only ever cares what people think of him with you, and only cares how he behaves in front of you.

praise <3 you could walk into a room and he'd be like "my pretty baby's so damn steady on their feet, my god." he wants you to have the biggest ego on the planet actually

he also likes to remind you of how well you take him when he's fucking you.

he WILL and DOES pay attention to your cues. you're overwhelmed? need a break? he's not questioning it. maybe he'll tease you that "you didn't need a break last time he was so rough" but that's all.

forehead kisses. he is tall. he is kissing the top of your head, your forehead, or your temple, whenever he damn pleases.

he has probably killed people for looking at you wrong or being mean to you. at the very least he threatens it, because how could someone be mean to you? you? his baby? the one who's never done a thing wrong in your life?

. . . of course my first post over here is me being soldier boy's biggest simp in the universe. kissin the ground he walks on. literally im there on the ground rn doin it do u see me.

tags <3 @figthoughts @honeyryewhiskey @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @aileenunfiltered @bluemerakis @deansbite @beausling @ultravi0lence14 @starzify @angelblqde i don't remember all my mooties to tag over here ... if u are forgotten pls take me out back n shoot me 4 this mistake.

property of the DAYLIGHTED franchise! © i do NOT give permission for my work or ideas to be used, rewritten, or reposted!

#lovedahlia!#loverboy!soldier boy #jensen ackles #jensen fucking ackles #soldier boy #the boys tv #the boys amazon #soldier boy headcanons

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oatmealwrites · 4 months ago

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Catch Kira, NOT Feelings! Ch. 6

Ch. 5 | Ch. 7

[series masterlist here]

[regular masterlist here]

Synopsis: Light is a master manipulator as per usual and quickly becomes suspicious of your 'relationship' with Ryuzaki. While a storm prevents him from coming to the task force meeting, the team locks in to the potential identity of Misa Amane being the Second Kira and what that means for all of your safety. Knowing that Light may be attempting to drive a wedge between you both, Ryuzaki asks you about the other things that couples do which might assist in convincing your task force colleagues that 'this' was real. The only issues? You're now convinced it may be becoming real too.

Tags: Light is a manipulator, you feel guilty af for lying to your team members, suggestive, mentions of sex, hair tugging, french kissing, dry humping, male erection, female arousal, mentions of masturbation, it's getting hot n heavy, MDNI, NSFW, 18+

Word Count: 10.7 k (SORRY)

a/n at end! enjoy~

~~~~~~

LIGHT POV

Light sits languidly at his desk, twirling his pen and furrowing his brows at his course materials that sit open before him. It’s late, long past 11pm and Misa has already left to go back home; a steady rain taps against his window as he enjoys the lack of company for the first time in a while. Ryuk’s presence doesn’t count anymore; he hovers in the air enjoying the sight of lightning that flashes with each roar of thunder, unamused as Light doesn’t give him any attention.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight.” Ryuk observes, turning to face the man.

Light sighs slightly, stopping the twirl of his pen and resting his cheek in the fat of his palm. “I’m thinking.”

Ryuk doesn’t say anything, but hovers closer to the desk and observes the way Light’s textbook remains open to the same page it was turned to 30 minutes ago. He’s seen Light calm and quiet with his thoughts before, but there’s an eerie demeanor to the way he sits that leaves Ryuk feeling eager to cure his boredom.

Light sits up a bit straighter when Ryuk reaches past him to grab an apple from the bowl his mother delivered earlier. “They’re faking it.”

Ryuk doesn’t stop his motion, popping the apple into his mouth and crunching loudly. “Hmm? Oh! You mean L and y/n?”

“Yes.” Light’s voice is curt and cold.

The shinigami over his shoulder pays no mind and continues chewing with his mouth open. “Mmm you must’ve been observing them very closely the other day to figure that out. Hehehe.”

Light doesn’t bother to entertain Ryuk’s suggestive teasing and rolls his eyes as the laughter behind his shoulder bellows loudly for only him to hear. Picking up his pen once more, he twirls it on his fingers again.

“Ok, but why does this matter so much? It’s not like it prevents you from killing people–”

“It prevents me from killing her.” Light interrupts.

The tone is harsh and quick, startling Ryuk as thunder roars beyond the glass patio door. Standing up and taking chunks of hair in his fingers, Light pulls slightly in frustration as his Shinigami companion watches in interest.

“But I thought you wanted her on your side if you were to be caught. Why would you kill her now?”

Light sighs, releasing the grasp on his hair and looks at Ryuk. “I don’t want to, she’s committed no crime– but…” He looks down at his desk, the death note sitting neatly underneath his textbook. “If she’s going to stand in the way of a God… then I have no choice.”

Ryuk hums in better understanding and reaches to grab another apple from the basket, watching the way Light seems to work out a variety of situations in his head.

“Mmm I see. And because she’s dating L suddenly, it puts her in an important spot at his side.”

Light scowls and runs a frustrated hand through his hair once more. “Yes, and only those in the task force know about it, meaning Ryuzaki has effectively guaranteed her safety! If she dies now, after no field work besides being with me, it’s a nail in my coffin!”

Light takes his textbook and throws it onto his bed, seething in anger as Ryuk enjoys the entertainment before him.

“Damn him! He thinks he can just do whatever he wants… but I’ll show him– No! I’ll show the whole task force that ‘relationship’ is a fraud.” Light stands in the center of his room, shaking as he speaks and it makes Ryuk question the soundproofing of the walls. “Then, I’ll kill her. Right in front of him…. hehe..hahahaHAHAHA”

Ryuk pops the core of the fruit into his mouth and licks the juice running from the corner of his lips. “Mmm, I bet Misa will like the fact there’s no competition either.”

Light stops laughing and peers at the Shinigami before rolling his eyes. “Not like she matters much anyways– I’ll find a way to have her kill L and then I’ll deal with her and Rem afterwards.”

Walking back to the desk, he sits in the chair and looks at the way the death note now sits unhidden on the surface; he pulls out a regular notepad and grabs a mechanical pencil.

“But first I need to figure out how to prove this ‘relationship’ is fake… and maybe, if y/n kneels before the altar of Kira in submission, I’ll show her mercy. I mean if the task force votes to remove her for the egregious violation of trust, it’ll put her in a vulnerable spot for where to put her faith…” He taps his pencil tip to the paper a few times in idle thought. “But first– I need to figure out why Ryuzaki would go this far just to protect her.”

Ryuk takes the empty fruit bowl and shakes it upside down, grunting at the fact there were no more apples left for him to enjoy. A lightning strike draws his attention back outside before he speaks to the young man again. “Maybe he’s just a good boss.”

Light scoffs and twirls his mechanical pencil in a similar fashion to how he did the pen earlier. “Yea right. The hours he makes everyone work, the secrecy of everything– even Ukita died on the job. So it doesn’t make sense he would do any special treatment for someone... He even sent Matsuda and I to Aoyama with no hesitation so–”

Light cuts himself off and stares down at the notepad in awe as Ryuk watches two drops of rain race down the glass door, silently rooting for the left one to reach the bottom first. When thunder echoes outside he notices the lack of Light’s voice and turns back around.

“Wait, you stopped talking. What happened?”

Light doesn’t say anything; his head hangs low and his shoulders jerk as a few chuckles escape his lips in an erratic manner. The light giggles turn into a fit of laughter as he throws his neck back and squints his eyes shut in humor. Feeling left out of an inside joke Ryuk ushers forward.

“What? Whaaat? Tell me.”

A hand on his forehead as the laughter slows down, Light looks down at his notepad. “Ahhh. It’s not fake at all, is it Ryuzaki?!”

Ryuk scrunches his face and looks at the man with irritation growing evident; he wants to be entertained, not left out. He lifts a hand and scratches his face in confusion. “You don’t make sense… just a moment ago you said the relationship was staged.”

Light wipes a tear from his eyes and spins in his chair to sit with better posture as he drafts a variety of notes onto the paper. “The whole thing is fake– just not to him.”

Ryuk doesn’t say anything, not bothering to ask for proof as he knows the human in front of him will run his mouth and explain it anyways. On cue, Light taps his paper with the pencil as he opens his mouth once more.

“I’ve known y/n longer than he has, a fact that gets under his skin and also puts him at a severe disadvantage.” He taps a list of names on the paper— a list of your most recent exes he can remember. “In all the relationships I’ve seen her in, she’s never acted like this.”

Ryuk peers at the names with slight interest but remains silent. “She’s never done excessive PDA, and now they’re making out in public. She’s always separated her work and personal life, and now she’s dating her boss. She’s also been strapped for cash, and now she’s bringing him cookies. The whole thing reeks of trying to prove a point in an obvious and gaudy fashion.”

Peering at the bullet points of dating habits, Ryuk shrugs again, not quite on the same page. “So this proves it’s fake, right?”

“Fake to her.” Light corrects, spinning back in his chair to continue scribbling.

“But Ryuzaki would never make such an attempt to protect anyone besides himself. Not letting her go to Aoyama, showing up on campus suddenly, projecting their ‘relationship’ makes so little rational sense.”

“That’s true. That guy is just as methodical and stuck up as you Light!” Ryuk chuckles at his own joke while the man rolls his eyes.

“Sure–” Light concedes with grit teeth. “But it also means that there’s no logical reason for him to do this.”

“Ok…? So why would he…?”

Light scoffs and raises an eyebrow himself. “It’s stupid really; to be honest I don’t know why he would do it for this reason anyways…”

Circling a word at the center of the page, he taps his pencil against the phrase with a confused and lost look in his eyes. ‘Love’

[Back at task force – Your POV]

“And based on this sentence,” you raise your finger to trace the highlighted portion of the printed transcript, “we can infer that the whole ‘sharing powers’ thing is greatly exaggerated.”

Matsuda awes next to you as you explain the linguistics behind the most recent piece of evidence from the Second Kira– an audio tape mailed to Sakura TV postmarked two days ago. The audio has been transcribed into a few sentences on the paper in your hands; the message stating the Second Kira will no longer make public statements within the name of ‘Kira’ and will do what they can to earn the approval of the God– offering to punish more criminals and even ‘share the power’ with other devoted followers.

You tap your finger and open the cap of your highlighter to mark another portion of the lines for underlying meanings; the wording seems like a combination of syntax from Kira and the Second.

“Nice catch there…” Aizawa leans down to point to another line as you begin explaining a separate portion of the script.

A light rain patters at the hotel windows as the lingering storm from last night refuses to let up; Ryuzaki sits at the coffee table across the room but his gaze remains on you at the kitchen counter. Aizawa and Matsuda flank both your sides as you calmly pick apart the printed transcript on the wooden surface; Light remains absent, still having another hour in his evening lecture before he rejoins the group.

Matsuda ‘ooos’ once more when you stand up, having completed your interpretation of the message splayed in front of you. “Woa, that’s an impressive deduction… I can't believe I didn’t catch it.”

You shrug and trace the lines once more, pausing to summarize them. “Well, if Kira could pass their powers on to people, why would they have chosen someone they never met? You can’t ensure allegiance or ability– the whole thing would be too risky.”

Despite telling this to Matsuda and Aizawa, Ryuzaki sits across the room listening to every detail. “So the Second Kira wasn’t ‘chosen’ ; it also limits the likelihood they can pass their ‘powers’ down to others. This would mean they came into power naturally rather than through succession. Especially when you consider the ego of the first Kira.”

Matsuda nods in approval and Mr. Yagami signals for the groups to merge once again; he makes space for Ryuzaki to resume the joint meeting. Taking your usual spot on the couch, you watch the way L flicks the TV screen to show the written audio transcript.

“You had already told me your interpretation earlier, y/n– but hearing it again there’s a few points we need to discuss.”

The group hums and gathers their assorted documents, ready to listen to his suggestion. “We have to entertain the possibility that the murder…’weapon’ has the ability to be yielded by more than one person. And that this ‘power’ may be the reference within the message.”

You suck the inside of your cheek between your molars and reflect on the possibility; the fact no one has seen the murder weapon throws an uncomfortable wrench into the plan. A ‘power’ with the ability to kill with only a name and face certainly leans towards the divine and supernatural. You give a slight nod to Ryuzaki, the shared usage of ‘notebooks’ still remains private to only you.

The group remains silent in thought, everyone having no collective idea what the real cause of death could be. With a slight sigh, Ryuzaki scans the faces of the task force and turns to Mogi. “Regardless, it’s something important for everyone to keep in mind. Mogi, you have collected the forensics evidence, please divulge further.”

With an exhale, the man stands up and takes the remote from L before standing beside the TV screen and flipping to the next image.

“There were multiple traces of DNA on the tapes sent which caused some delays. Any postal service workers were filtered out upon looking at their work schedules which eventually left the evidence of two different women.”

He flips to an image of a woman you don’t recognize; her hair is cut short and splays in a variety of directions while her face adorns gothic makeup. “Her evidence showed up the most predominantly on the first few tapes. Saliva, finger prints, everything that would show her being the primary sender.”

Matsuda stands up excitedly. “So we got her! We got the Second Kira!”

“Not so fast.” Mr. Yagami leans back in his seat and motions for Matsuda to sit back down. “Please continue Mogi.”

The man coughs slightly and flips to the next image; a set of other video tapes litter the screen. “Her DNA didn’t match any criminal records, but it did match a series of occult videos sent to a variety of news stations. Most of them are fake or doctored as some sort of prank.”

Matsuda sinks slowly back down with a slight blush on his cheeks in embarrassment.

Mogi flips to an image of the woman’s schedule. “Given her credit card statement, work schedule, and parental alibi… there’s limited room for her to commit any of the murders given the lack of time to access criminal information.”

Before the group can sigh in slight defeat, he flips to an image of another woman– one you recognize.

“Hey. I know her…” You sit upright and examine the doll-like face of the girl on the screen.

L leans in slightly, his face holds intrigue but the slight tremor in his body language hints a bit of anxiety. “Have you seen her on campus?”

You shake your head and examine her face another moment before turning to the group. “No, nothing like that. She’s a model I’m pretty sure… and she’s been in a few movies.”

Ryuzaki sits back slightly and nods once, taking in your response before nodding for Mogi to continue once again.

“Well, you’re right about that. This is Misa Amane, an upcoming celebrity whose DNA was already in the court system as a victim– her parents were murdered and she went through the trials against the perpetrator...”

You look between Mogi and Ryuzaki with concern at his pause. “Wait… I recognize this case; wasn’t it thrown out?”

Ryuzaki sits up right to secure a small plate of strawberry cake and pops the fruit garnish on top into his mouth; he speaks with his mouth open as he chews. “Exactly. The man was acquitted and shortly after Kira came to power, he died of a heart attack.”

The allegiance to Kira is immediately established and you sit back into your seat. In a strange sense, you kinda feel bad for her; if your family was killed and the murderer walked free from an inefficient judicial system…maybe you would have sympathy for Kira as we–

Ok, what are you thinking? Kira has killed more than just criminals; FBI agents and even members of this task force have been murdered.

You shake off the thought and give Mogi your full attention once more as Ryuzaki watches your expression with uncomfortable focus.

“The tapes had pollen from flowers local to her hometown, and when we seized a few assets from her agent– without her knowledge– we matched her notebooks to the paper used in the letters. Not only did the ink match, but the handwriting too.”

Mogi opens a manilla folder that had been tucked under his arm and places it on the coffee table in front of everyone. “Her credit card statements. There’s receipts of train ticket purchases that match the postage locations of the stamps from the Sakura TV demands.”

Aizawa crosses his arms. “Ok, just to push back on this… is it possible that she is also just an occult prankster? Kira could’ve put either one up to sending these tapes– like how they manipulated the acts of the criminals in jail before they died.”

Ryuzaki hums slightly, the fork in his mouth and frosting coating part of his lips and the sight makes you squirm slightly. “Given there have been multiple tapes sent in response to our demands and they haven’t died yet, we can assume they are doing this willingly…” He pauses and runs his tongue over his bottom lip to get the lost sugar. “Though if we detain one… there’s a chance Kira will kill one, or both, to avoid them from speaking out.”

You stare back at the image to examine her appearance again, and to avoid staring at the slutty way Ryuzaki cleans his fork of any remaining cream.

Ugh. He doesn’t even know how it looks.

You turn your attention back to the image of Misa and think for a moment. “There’s something else… aha!” You reach in your bag to pull out your laptop while the group of men watch you open the lid and type in your password.

Mr. Yagami sits forward to grab a mug of coffee from Watari’s tray. “Did you find something y/n?”

“Kinda…. Ah! Here it is!” You spin the laptop around and the men all lean in to get a better look.

“That looks delicious…?” Mogi mumbles in confusion from his still standing position.

You roll your eyes at the way Matsuda is nearly drooling. “Ok, but besides the image of the dessert, this is Misa’s social media page.”

Mr. Yagami blinks, completely lost. “Uh, ok?”

L sits forward and expands the image before looking up at you. “This is one of the cafes you and Light were talking about in Aoyama.”

You grin at him, slightly flush from his memory of you mentioning it in a conversation that he wasn’t even part of, before nodding and pointing to the post date and location. “Exactly! While it was posted a few days after Light and Matsuda were walking in Aoyama… it’s awfully convenient to post it on the same day we received the message that the Second Kira had found Kira.”

The group hums with excitement; everyone closer to finding Kira than ever before. Ryuzaki slips the last bite of cake into his mouth and places the saucer back onto the coffee table with a gentle touch.

“However, this doesn’t inherently look very good for your son, Mr. Yagami.”

The group’s energy falters and you shift uncomfortably in your seats, the tension between the two men immediately rising once again.

“Excuse me? Even if she was in Aoyama the same day as Light, Matsuda was with him the whole time!”

On cue, Matsuda jumps up to the chief’s defense. “That’s right Ryuzaki! Light never spoke to anyone who matches her photograph.”

Opting to reach for a plate of sugar cubes, he slides a few blocks into a warm mug of tea. “Mogi– please explain.”

Swallowing uncomfortably, you watch the way Mogi nervously loosens the collar on his button up and Mr. Yagami’s glare is intense.

“What? Mogi... what is he talking about?!”

Examining the way everyone else looks at Mogi with concern, you deduce that L had only told you about his assignment trailing Light.

“I had him follow your son after a few meetings, this woman has come to your house several times now.”

Mr. Yagami sputters at the way Ryuzaki speaks on Mogi’s behalf, abruptly turning between the men in shock and anger. “You what?”

Matsuda and Aizawa rise to their feet, each immediately standing between the men as Mr. Yagami tries to push forward and reach the collar of L’s shirt. The coffee table slides as the group begins to scuffle; you lift your feet to avoid the scattered mugs that topple onto the floor.

“You had our colleagues spy on my family? What gives you the right– after everything?!” Your mentor booms as Aizawa puts his arm out in front to block his movements.

L stands idly, Matsuda standing in front regardless. “Your son is still the most convincing suspect we have so far. Do you want to catch Kira or not?”

Mr. Yagami scoffs and you stand up now as well, picking up your bag to avoid the coffee puddle that threatens to stain the fabric. Moving slightly, you sling it over the back of the loveseat Ryuzaki stands in front of and watch the way Mr. Yagami scoffs with an exhale of hot breath.

“This threatens to break the very trust of this group! If I’m not a suspect, you should tell me when you act in secret.”

You swallow thickly and shift your weight awkwardly, the images of your very public makeout the other day now flooding your mind. The lack of your own honesty with the group leaves you biting your tongue and remaining silent.

“Your son may have access to the information you have; this was done to prevent any suspicion and it worked.” L replies cooly, not needing Matsuda to hold him back.

“And if you told me, I could’ve done more to figure out why she visited! Because of that, Light looks even more guilty without having the opportunity to explain anything!”

Ryuzaki sighs slightly. “We will give him ample time to clear his own name with his actions, but for now please calm down– you need to act rationally.”

Mr. Yagami tilts his head down and Aizawa keeps him steady for a moment before the chief exhales slowly and sinks into the sofa. Defeat written on his face, the older man looks down at his hands with a forlorn expression.

“I’m sorry for my outburst everyone… I didn’t mean to question the trustworthiness of this group… It’s just hard to hear you speak so casually that my son could be–” his words die before he can even say ‘Kira.’

Aizawa moves to sit back down and the lingering tension in the air hangs with less intensity than before. Matsuda takes a deep breath and sits beside the chief as Mogi stands in an awkward and apologetic silence in front of the TV.

You slowly leave your original position from beside Ryuzaki and catch his gaze for a moment before returning to your spot on the couch; the small moment of eye contact isn’t lost on your company either.

“You’ve been acting in secret…but also have been vulnerable with us, Ryuzaki.” Mr. Yagami looks up, a calmer expression on his face. “I’m grateful you’ve been able to be honest about your relationship�� and I understand that some acts in finding Kira may require a bit more privacy. Please, forgive my outburst.”

Ah, shit.

Your heart strings tug when your mentor offers you a somber look that you can’t quite discern and Ryuzaki stares at you from his seat. It’s awkward and uncomfortable, but you offer a small smile and shrug your shoulders slightly.

“I completely understand your feelings Mr. Yagami. I will keep them in mind as we continue our mission.” L offers before looking back to the group.

You squirm in your seat, feeling like utter shit as the next steps of the plan are being discussed.

“I’ll keep my public appearances to an even stricter minimum than before.” Ryuzaki begins, taking a fresh mug of tea since his other one was knocked to the floor a few moments ago. “If Miss Amane has this… ‘power’ to kill with a name and face, I’ll have to only leave the headquarters under extremely coordinated events. You all should consider the same.”

Matsuda looks at the file notes on the woman before raising his gaze to examine you; a lighter tone in his voice as he attempts to dissolve any remaining tension. “Ha! That might make date night awkward huh, y/n!”

You pause, the documents frozen in your hands as a hot blush spreads across your face. “Oh, yea! Haha… definitely will make it a bit harder.”

A forced laugh escapes your lips as the other members roll their eyes at his attempt at humor; you turn your attention to Ryuzaki who sits completely complacent with the task force discussing your ‘relationship’. In a poor attempt at morse code, you blink a few times as signal to help you out.

He tilts his head for a moment before finally catching on and sitting up straighter to place his mug back on the table. “O-Oh, right! Our love life will take a hit, but lucky for us– y/n and I usually enjoy our time spent here in privacy.”

…

The room is dead silent except for the small clatter of a ceramic dessert plate Ryuzaki picks up from the coffee table. How in the world he managed to make the atmosphere WORSE is beyond you.

Matsuda coughs slightly and awkwardly looks towards the bedroom door on the other side of the room. “You mean like… when you guys go in there?”

Maybe you should’ve just gone to Aoyama anyway and took your chances with the Second Kira’s wrath and L’s disappointment. Because being dead sounds a lot better than being here right now.

You raise your hands up in defense, silently wondering what karma you must have to be in this situation. “No! We don’t do anything in there–”

“Yes, please be rest assured that y/n and I do not do anything intimate there…” Ryuzaki interrupts before taking a bite of his pastry. “–while the group is here of course.”

Silence falls on the group once more and Mr. Yagami can’t bring himself to make eye contact with you; Aizawa looks slowly between you and L in horror. “So… you guys do it in there once we leave?”

“Is that why you always leave last, y/n?” Mogi asks quietly.

Your words choke in your throat and you turn to Ryuzaki who gives you a neutral expression; there’s not an ounce of worry on his face as his large eyes slowly blink at you as if you were describing the weather.

“What? N-No! We just… I uhhh…” You take a deep breath. “Can we get back to catching Kira?”

“Yes, please.” Mr. Yagami immediately sighs and keeps his gaze on the papers in his hands.

“Of course. We can’t arrest Misa right away anyways– it would be best to give Light some time to prove his innocence and for us to construct a place that could even hold the Second Kira if it is Ms. Amane.” L explains cooly, gazing at the older man. “Mogi will still be asked to trail your son, if that’s alright.”

Mr. Yagami sighs but nods regardless. “I understand, it’s for his own good.”

You nod slowly, your heart still pounding in your chest as a hot blush remains tattooed to your cheeks.

“So… we keep this a secret from him for a bit? At least until we gain something that could prove a lack of connection to Misa?” Matsuda asks, flipping through her headshots.

“Precisely. We will tell him about the tapes and our analysis of them, but Misa and the other woman will remain unmentioned for the time being.”

The meeting continues as planned, going through various pieces of evidence against Misa as you draft legal demands from her agent; a ‘drug’s bust’ is the guise the group has decided on using. Gentle rain from earlier picks up into a storm similar to that of last night and thunder roars outside as the group passes around various papers and evidence bags amongst each other.

You finish reviewing a final explanation of the most recent Second Kira tape once more before the power flicks slightly. A few whistles escape the men as the lights come back on and crashes of thunder shake the window panes.

Moving to place your annotated papers back on the table, a shrill ringtone emits from your bag. A sheepish apology at Ryuzaki as you forgot to put it on mute, you move to decline it before raising an eyebrow at the caller ID.

“It’s Light.”

Mr. Yagami looks up at you and then peers at his watch. “He’s running 20 minutes behind…”

Ryuzaki motions for you to answer and you lift the device to your ear and repack your bag. “Light? What’s up?”

“Ah, y/n I’m glad you answered. I’m still on campus.”

You pause and look up at the wall clock, eyes wide in shock as you stand upright. “Still? I thought your classes were done almost an hour ago.”

“Several metro lines are down from the storm, apparently there was an accident at a major transfer station.”

“So, you’re not coming tonight?” You shrug when the group gives you a concerned look.

“I don’t think so.. Agh this is so frustrating. I don’t want to inconvenience Ryuzaki or my father about filling me in either….”

You pause and take the phone from its tucked spot on your shoulder and flip it to rest against your opposite ear. “That’s alright, I can let you know what you missed.”

“Really? You’re a lifesaver y/n.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure you’d do the same for me anyways.”

“I’ll take you to that dessert place not far off campus, my treat.”

The offer makes you pause slightly, blinking slowly as his invitation catches you off guard. It’s not like you’ve never gone to cute cafes or gotten lunch– the both of you used to do it regularly when you worked alongside his father under regular hours– but there’s a weird feeling in your gut that’s not describable.

“Y-You don’t have to do that…” Ryuzaki’s eyes follow your every movement and he listens intently to each phrase that leaves your lips.

“I want to though… take it as a token of appreciation. But if you’re too busy to go through the meeting notes… I can always ask Matsuda, I suppose.”

You shake your head as if he could see your body language and sigh slightly into the receiver, brushing off the strange anxiety that creeps on your shoulders. “It’s fine, that plan works for me. I have a 2 hour break tomorrow anyways.”

The group watches in silence and shrugs amongst themselves as they raise eyebrows at the content of the conversation. When you end the call and slide the phone back into your bag, all eyes are on you.

Mr. Yagami sits forward. “Is Light ok?”

You reach for your coffee mug and down half the contents. “Huh? Oh yea, his train line is closed for the storm so he’s just going to head home.”

You lean back in your seat and Ryuzaki purses his lips slightly, he moves to speak but waits a moment. “Let’s take a short recess. All of you confirm your ways home are not compromised and then we can wrap up this meeting early considering the weather.”

Hums of approval break out and the men separate to call home, check traffic reports, and monitor the transit line closures. Ryuzaki stands and motions to follow him; he pauses at the bedroom door and opts to awkwardly shuffle into the kitchen area when Aizawa shoots him a concerned glance.

You pivot to stand beside him and shiver when a few of the other men raise a slight eyebrow before returning to their phone calls. “What’s going on? Why can’t we just–”

“What else did Light say?” Ryuzaki interrupts and whispers in a hushed tone.

Blinking, you look behind to ensure you’re out of earshot and shrug slightly. “He asked if I could go over the meeting notes of tonight so he wouldn’t inconvenience you or his dad.”

“Right–” L rolls his eyes slightly and scoffs. “Anything else?”

“Mmm, he offered to take me to a dessert cafe as payment.”

“And you accepted?”

You pause slightly and keep your eye on the distance of the other members to your conversation. “Yea? Why wouldn’t I–” oh.

You suck in your lower lip awkwardly while Ryuzaki narrows his eyes. “Please think these things through thoroughly. It’s obvious he’s onto us, and he’s looking for an opening to wedge himself into.”

It’s not exactly your best moment, but you offer a slight defense. “It’s not something that’s inherently damning. Going with a man who isn’t my uh… ‘boyfriend’ is weird, but it’s Light. We’ve already gone to cafes and such platonically, so if he’s trying to prove something here, it won’t work.”

Ryuzaki’s glare narrows slightly at your mention of previous excursions with the man, but concedes the point. “Regardless, we need to ensure that ‘this’ remains stable; our lives are on the line.”

You nearly roll your eyes at the constant reminder but nod in agreement nonetheless. “I’m aware, but what else is there to prove? The group already knows we're together.”

“We need to make it more believable.”

Pausing slightly, you open your eyes in shock. “More believable? How do we even manage that? It would be… something that would happen privately.” A blush spreads across your face and your voice lowers quietly.

“That’s fine then, we’ll have one of them walk in on us.”

…what.

“W-wait..and what exactly are they going to be walking in on?”

Ryuzaki blinks once, the implication of his suggestion now warming his cheeks a pale pink. “Well… a couple-thing I suppose. We’ll have to draft a plan about it– If Light is successful in proving that we aren’t actually dating but instead plotting his arrest behind everyone's back… the entire task force dynamic will crumble.”

A heavy weight pushes on your shoulders and you bite your lip in thought. “I know, I know. But having someone… walk in will require a careful plan on our part if we’re actually going to do this.”

L has seemingly no issue with the risk of mortification at your colleagues walking in on the two of you potentially “fucking” and the air escapes your lungs in exhaustion. There’s no way this conversation is real, and thunder roars overhead as you silently attempt to wake yourself up from this dream. Before you can offer another suggestion, a cough rings out awkwardly as Mogi signals that the group is ready to resume.

You offer a polite smile and pivot next to Ryuzaki as you walk back to your seat. “Just.. give me some time to think about it ok?”

The meeting resumes as it had prior; finalizing a plan for Sakura TV to be wary if any more tapes arrive, requesting Misa’s upcoming schedules from her agent, and drafting a request to the dessert cafe in Aoyama for their interior CCTV access.

The rain picks up and the wind howls beyond the window panes with lightning occasionally painting the interior hotel walls with a pale glow. Watari collects residual coffee cups from the table and offers to prepare another pot before the group sleepily declines.

You flip through the credit card statements of Misa while idly replaying the invitation Light offered over the phone. The more you considered it, the more you tried to convince yourself you were simply overthinking. The fact he had called you and not his father isn’t inherently strange, but it does leave an uneasy feeling in your gut.

Digging your chin into the casual university sweatshirt you adorn, you silently take in your own outfit. Coming straight from class, you forwent changing into your professional clothes and sit at the meeting in a pair of jeans with a ribbed white tee under your crewneck. It would seem out of place if Ryuzaki wasn’t sitting in his usual spot dressed equally as comfortably; on instinct he looks up from his own papers and meets your gaze before you peel your eyes back down.

Another 45 minutes go by until the yawns of the group cannot be suppressed by the thunder and Ryuzaki looks up to adjourn the meeting for the night. Despite it being earlier than your usual evenings, fatigue is evident on the faces of everyone.

Tired limbs stretch upright and slowly pack their belongings as the men bundle up and check the window to prepare for the inclement weather outside. Sliding a few folders into your bag, you pause when Watari offers you your jacket. “Actually, can I speak with you Ryuzaki?” You turn towards the man as he peers out the window at the rain.

“Of course.”

Aizawa slings his messenger bag over his shoulder and looks between the both of you with a concerned glance before staring at the bedroom door on the other side of the room.

You roll your eyes. “Not for that.” you turn back to L; his attention now fully on you. “I have an assignment and it’s about a case you worked on.”

Aizawa seems content with the explanation and gives Matsuda a slight nudge when the men slowly file out of the hotel suite. L tilts his head slightly, “Which case? BB murder? Or maybe–”

When the door clicks shut you exhale slightly with a light chuckle. “There is no assignment.”

“...Oh.”

Placing your bag back down in front of the couch, you pivot to walk back towards the bedroom at the other end of the room. “I actually have an idea that could work… regarding what we spoke about earlier. If someone hears this, I doubt they’ll question us being together.”

Even saying it outloud is enough to make your ears red. When you initially joined the task force, you assumed it would wrap up with the swift arrest of Kira while each of the men wrote you glowing letters of recommendation– not with you opening the bedroom door of L’s suite and ushering him inside for a private meeting, still miles away from catching the serial killer.

“Watari, can you assist with this actually?”

The older gentleman walks around from his position at the kitchen counter, gently stacking dirty dishes before he arrives in the living room. “Of course, y/n. What can I assist with?”

Saying the request is mortifying, but it’s not like you have many options at this point anyways. A deep breath in, you gesture to the room. “Can you just stay out here? Not super close to the door, but maybe by the couches? I want to see something.”

The man nods once and retreats to the coffee table to organize the glassware there and you motion for Ryuzaki to enter the bedroom.

It’s awkward, more than you want it to be. L walks inside and looks expectedly at you as your hands click the door shut; shuffling to the side of the bed, you release a long exhale. “Ok, I was thinking about what you said earlier… about the uhh ‘next step’ and I’m ready with a plan.”

Ryuzaki’s eyes widen in surprise, an expression of shock you’re not sure you’ve ever seen. He coughs slightly and looks between you and the bed, taking a moment to digest what was happening.

“Oh, I see. To be honest I thought you would need more time… and I’m not exactly prepared for this..” He walks over and runs his hands over the fabric of the comforter to ground himself. “I’m not exactly the most experienced, but I’m ready.”

You stand still, frozen as he then slowly leans forward.

Huh.

HUH.

You sputter and lift your hands. “Wait– what?”

“What.” Ryuzaki immediately parrots and leans back to his previous position.

“What… are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” He repeats once more.

Blinking slightly and raising an eyebrow at his behavior, you tilt your head in suspicion but brush it off. “Uh, let me explain the plan first, yea?”

Ryuzaki nods in the least-casual forced-casual manner possible. “Yes, of course.”

You scoff lightly in amusement but a grin works its way onto your lips regardless. “Alright, you’re going to need some acting skills for this.”

Without waiting for his answer, you kick off your shoes and climb onto the bed. Sitting near the pillows, you place your hand on the wall and knock once or twice before humming in approval; Ryuzaki stands motionless beside you. “I’m having slight difficulty following your lead, y/n.”

“Patience–” you shush him.

He closes his lips and swallows slightly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he remains frozen in place. Rocking your weight forward slightly, you push the headboard of the bed into the adjacent wall and hum in satisfaction when a ‘thud’ rings out from the motion. Taking a moment to test the movement, you sway to a steadier rhythm and nudge the wooden furniture against the wall over and over again.

Swallowing any remaining pride, you look away from the man next to you and open your mouth to release an awkwardly forced moan. “Aaahhhh–”

This is fucking ridiculous.

A chuckle almost escapes Ryuzaki’s lips, but it passes as a mixture of a cough and gruff exhale; you slow down to a halt and look at him with cheeks bright red in embarrassment and frustration. “

What?” you seethe at him in frustration; actions coming to a halt.

He glances at the way your hands remain firmly grasped to the headboard and tightens his lips into a tight line. “You need to make it believable.”

His response isn’t one you expect, and in your state of surprise, you peel backwards off the headboard and sit still in the center of the bed. “Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Clearly amused but pretending not to be, he climbs onto the plush comforter and gives you a knowing look. “Seriously? The only people who make noises like that are adult film actors on set– there’s no way it would convince a room of trained detectives that you were…enjoying yourself.”

You open your mouth for a moment before shutting it in defeat. Sure he has a point, but it’s not like you could casually give the performance of a lifetime while being fully clothed and a respectful 5 feet apart.

A huff escapes you as he walks on his knees up to the base of the headboard and does a few sample taps against the wall. “And how else would you like me to sound–”

“Let’s focus on the task at hand.” He interrupts, changing the topic slightly.

Relinquishing the subtle dig at your acting skills, you pivot to stand up and give a few jumps to the mattress.

God this is so damn childish. The act of being caught doing this would be worse than actually being caught having sex with him.

Wait. what.

The joint act of him swinging the bed into the wall while you hop up and down makes you recall a variety of undergraduate memories you wished would stay hidden. Banging against the wall, fake and forced moans, and the very real company only separated by plaster and drywall makes you cringe.

Ryuzaki doesn’t seem to mind any of it, remaining silent as he throws his shoulder into the swing and jerks the furniture forward. You pause and land lightly on your feet; throwing your sweatshirt over your head from the heat, you adjust the white tee underneath and glance at the man underneath you.

“Ok, now you’re not being believable.”

He pauses immediately and looks up at you with a face of frustration. “Hm? What else is there to this…?”

“You’re too quiet. I mean we’re making all this noise but you haven’t made a sound.”

Ryuzaki opens his mouth but promptly shuts it; his mind reeling a million different scenarios as a hot blush spreads across his cheeks. He turns the other way and keeps his lips in a tight line while you raise an eyebrow at his silence.

He gives a few pushes to the bed with half effort, obviously trying to avoid making a sound with his mouth; unconvinced you raise your foot from your standing position above his and kick his side slightly.

“Hey. What are you doing? I thought you said we needed to make this believable.”

He doesn’t answer and continues half-assing his motion; impatient you raise your foot again but slip when he suddenly jerks forward to slide the bed once again.

“Woa– S-SHIT”

You topple forward and crash down onto him in the blink of an eye, silently taking a moment to see if you can feel your limbs still. Regarding yourself unscathed, you look down at the very stunned Ryuzaki who lays directly beneath you.

“Was this… part of your plan?” He murmurs quietly.

Stuttering, you sit up straight but he raises his knees behind you to keep you stuck in the base of his lap.

Fuck.

No words can form on your tongue as the position creates a TV static to echo through your mind; surprise turning into intrigue, L looks up at you with a glaze over his eyes and the tug of a smirk on his lips.

“Please use your words, y/n. I might have amazing deductive abilities, but I’m not a mind reader.”

Scoffing you grab the fabric of the comforter in frustration, the fucker was enjoying this. “I didn’t mean to trip.”

“Plans rarely go according to how we expect them to.” He pauses and keeps his gaze on you. “But since you did fall, how would your… plan move forward from here?”

“What?” You mutter incredulously. The whole thing was an accident, but he seems to be interested in watching you squirm more than anything else.

He sits there in a petty silence, expecting you to talk your way out of the situation while your embarrassment turns to frustration. Ok while yes, you would be lying if you said the tension didn’t turn you on at all, the blurred lines of your charade creates a risky situation that should be avoided.

Kissing at the quad was spontaneous and already pushing the boundaries of what this ‘fake relationship’ currently signified as. Sitting on his lap with no one else in the room was a whole different ball game.

“You’re overthinking.” His voice cuts through.

You sigh and turn towards the door. “How can I not? It’s not like this situation leaves much up to the imagination if someone were to walk in.”

“Humor me.”

Seriously?

It feels strange to have the tables turned on you. When you had taken the initiative to kiss him in front of Light, it was Ryuzaki who stood before you completely at your will; sitting above him while his dark eyes bore into yours, trying to push even further made you furrow your brows in contemplation.

The whole thing is fake right? It doesn’t make any sense for him to care so much if Light asks you to a cafe and it makes even less rational sense for him to want to practice getting caught. Catching Kira takes more than playing by the books though, and watching the way his pupils are dilated to the size of saucers makes you begin to want something else. Something more.

You don’t know what he wants from you at this point, but sitting here, with him, as the storm roars outside and the only thing illuminating the bedroom are the table lamps and moonlight, you decide to act on what you want for once.

It’s quick, so fast that even Ryuzaki takes a moment to blink before realizing that you were leaning down to kiss his lips. Hands cupping his cheeks, you tilt your head and slide down his thighs bit more to sit in a neat straddle of his lap.

He doesn’t freeze like the time you kissed him on the campus, instead deft hands rest neatly on your waist as he pushes against your mouth with equal force. Your nose tickles his cheek as you move more pressure and you savor the sweet flavor of his lips; his mouth chases yours when you part to tilt your head to the other side.

It’s hot, and you can feel his cock stiffening in his jeans with every rock of your hips as you both effectively dry hump. Slithering your tongue out slightly, you run a gentle lick across his bottom lip; pulling back when he freezes.

About to end the entire moment in mortification, Ryuzaki slips his index and middle fingers in the belt loops of your jeans to keep you still above him. Panting, he gazes up at you with hazy eyes. “Why do you do that? You did it the other day… on campus. Wh– What does it signify?”

Dark hair tickles his cheeks and his eyes are locked solely on you; the pressure in his jeans rutting against your aching cunt isn’t lost on you either. It feels like you’re suffocating in a tug-of-war between rationality and desire.

Of course, the urge for more wins.

You wet your bottom lip with your tongue and Ryuzaki shamefully stares at the action while waiting for an explanation. No words leave your mouth; instead you take your thumbs from where they rested on his cheeks and force them between his lips. Taping on his canines once with them, you push his jaw down and lean forward to place your tongue in his mouth.

“Hmpfhh-”

Ryuzaki doesn’t mind being gagged by your tongue; he happily exhales through his nose and tugs you further up on his lap as his erection grinds painfully against the fly of his jeans. You don’t fare much better above him as the saturated mess of your panties leaves a warm and sticky sensation between the plush of your thighs.

Sugar and black tea is the taste of his tongue as you grind your own against it before exploring his molars and pursuing your lips further to gain more access. Soft groans leave your throat and escape his own lips; no longer sounding like a staged pornoc– but guttural and deep.

Any other person would have their hands on your ass already, but Ryuzaki keeps his hands at a constrained position at your tailbone, as if it was painful for him to keep them still. Remaining a gentleman nonetheless, he doesn’t move them any further.

It’s bad. The way you grind against him faster and tilt his head back with the force of your mouth. It’s even worse when he pushes you back and a string of saliva connects your lips before snapping.

“Haa.. I see.” He pants, not bothering to discuss his very obvious and raging boner. “So, if I wanted to do that… I would–” Ryuzaki tugs your head back in and sits upright to connect your lips once more.

He runs his tongue over your lips and in an act of coyness, you don’t bother opening your mouth. Ryuzaki pulls back with an analytical expression before tapping your hip as if he just had a moment of clarity. “Ah, that’s right! You did this…”

Before you can question him, a hand leaves your belt loop and grasps your jaw; his thumb pushes your mouth down to mirror the same motion you did to him. Instantly his lips meet yours as his tongue slithers into your mouth and ruts against yours.

The temperature of the room is painfully hot, and despite shedding your sweatshirt earlier, you can feel the warmth on your skin. Nipples hard against your bra and back arching in pleasure despite him not even leaving first base.

Lips against his own and panties completely ruined with each grind against his erection; your puffy clit now aching for more friction as your cunt clenches pathetically from the clothes bulge rutting against it.

You're lost in pleasure until a moment of realization washes over you. You were kissing him.

Yes, you had done this once before–but there was an audience back then, and a point to prove. Right now, there was no one else in the room that this was meant for; each rock of your heads to a matched rhythm was not convincing anyone but yourselves that whatever ‘this’ was, didn’t qualify as casual.

Hands snaking into his hair and tugging slightly, a low reverberation escapes his throat from the sensation and the grip on your waist tightens. Sighing through your nose, you tug harder to pry his head back; the force nearly ripping out his hair from the strength you need to get him off your lips.

Saliva coats his chin as he looks up at you with hazy eyes; it would be so easy to go even further, but looking at his appearance, you know it’s for the best if it stops here. You sit back slightly but his bent knees keep you close

Has he even been in a relationship? Or done anything for that matter?

It’s wrong. Fake dating, kissing, doing this with someone who obviously has no idea what they’re getting into. Additionally, it probably looks awful on your behalf to have people entertain the idea of you and L being together; you can practically hear the ‘she slept her way to the top’ rumors now.

“That’s uhh.. What they could walk in on…if we need up the ante..” you offer slowly, with a distant voice.

Ryuzaki takes the pause to breathe deeply and nods once; his eyes bore into your face with concern and awkwardness. It doesn’t take much effort for him to read the way your face is torn in a mixture of disappointed emotions.

A million sentences of affirmation for his decision to commit to ‘this’ cross his mind; instead he settles on, “I see.”

You swallow dryly and swing around to tap his knees which he immediately unbends to allow you to swing off his lap and hop off the bed. Ryuzaki remains laying down, his eyes never leaving your figure as you bend down to lace up your sneakers.

This feels ridiculous. The act of tying your shoes is akin to getting dressed after a one night stand while the guy tries to decide if he should order you an Uber or not.

“Watari is probably going to be concerned.” You say in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.

L sits up slightly and glances at his crotch with a grimace; you take the hint to turn around while he adjusts himself.

“Don’t feel bad about it– I’m sure if any one was on your lap like that… it would happen.”

It’s an attempt to make him feel better, but the words leave a bitter taste in your mouth, as if picturing him with another person wasn’t fair.

“I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable… I didn’t mean to push you earlier for an explanation of your uh… plan.” He apologizes from behind you.

You spin back around and notice his long shirt now covering the erection he’s tucked into the elastic band of his boxers and shrug. “No, it was wrong of me to make such an intense move on you without warning.”

Ryuzaki blinks and shakes his head. “That’s alright. We need ‘this’ to be realistic considering our lives are on the line if Misa really is the Second Kira.”

Pursing your lips, you exhale slowly and nod; your gaze locked on the carpet of the room.

L stands beside you and opens and closes his hands in an awkward fidget. He’s never been one for honesty, communication, or vulnerability and the tension of the moment makes him falter. “I don’t regret doing this, y/n. But if you have second thoughts or regrets… I won’t hold them against you.”

You continue staring at the corner of the room for a moment before gathering the courage to look back over at the man and drink in his disheveled appearance. Despite your brain telling you to end this stupid charade now, your heart keeps your feet firmly planted next to him.

“I don’t regret this, Ryuzaki. I don’t regret you.”

He opens his eyes wider, and searches your face for any sign that you were simply saying that to protect his ego. Not finding any, he smiles gently and nods. “That’s good to hear.”

You both stand in silence, neither one of you bringing up the fact that what just happened defied all aspects of what a fake relationship really is; the fear that calling it out would end the entire agreement prevents you from opening your mouth.

“I guess we’ll just have to do that if Light manages to cast some doubt on us.” Ryuzaki offers while sliding his hands into the front pocket of his jeans.

You chuckle, enjoying the break in the atmosphere and nudge his shoulder slightly. “Riiight. Maybe it’ll come in handy sometime.”

Ryuzaki’s stance is lighter, enjoying your eased expression, and heads for the bedroom door. “Yes, indeed. Maybe we should… continue practicing sometime? It would be best to not be caught unprepared after all.”

You step out of the room and pause while looking at the man. It’s an unspoken offer; an invitation to keep doing this without actually addressing the underlying implication of everything. You’re convinced he’s never been in a relationship before, but he seems to be an expert at creating a situationship; settling for the ease of not having to do the ‘what are we actually’ conversation, you nod. “That sounds nice.”

Watari fluffs a few pillows and places the TV remote neatly next to a decorative candle on the coffee table before looking up at the both of you. Approaching the living room, you move to sling your bag over your shoulder while the older man looks between you both.

“Ah, you’ve finished. Was I able to be of assistance?”

Your face flushes and you run a hand casually through your hair. “Well that depends… what did you hear?”

Watari places the last fluffed pillow into the loveseat L usually sits at and stands upright. “Some minor commotion from the walls, but nothing else.” He turns to Ryuzaki. “Will we need new furniture? Or to switch suites?”

Mortification creeps back in but L simply shakes his head and peers out the window to the storm still raging outside. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you.”

Shuffling to the door you turn back to L who follows you to the entrance. “So we’re keeping the ‘notebooks’ a secret still too?”

“Yes, until we can get Misa in custody and question her direction. We’ll need her schedule from her manager first though.”

You nod, watching the way Watari retrieves the Mercedes keys and pivots into the hallway to give you and Ryuzaki another moment of space.

“So… guess I’ll see you later? Not on campus, but here I suppose?”

“Yes, for the time being I can’t risk leaving the headquarters.”

You nod and tighten the straps of your bag, not wanting to leave but also knowing it’s late enough already. “Right, that’s a good idea…”

“Are you alright?”

Defensively backing up, you blush at being called out so blatantly. “Yea. Sorry, I’ll head out now.”

“That’s not what I said.” He interrupts, shutting the front door when you try to open it. “Tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

You startle backward slightly and peer at him. “Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just got a lot on my mind…”

Ryuzaki releases his pressure keeping the door shut but doesn’t stop staring at your face as you shuffle into the hallway; Watari stands at the elevator at the end, keeping the door open.

He’s unconvinced but lets you take a few steps into the hallway. It’s a dumb move on your part given the complicated nature of this relationship, but you can’t fight the urge to spin around and plant a small kiss on the apple of his cheek.

His face breaks into a bright blush and he brings a few fingers to touch the spot in awe. Despite being significantly tamer than the makeouts you’ve already had, it’s the first kiss you’ve shared outside of fake pretense.

You give a slight wave to Ryuzaki and spin back around to power walk to the elevator to the awaiting older man, eager to go home, shower, and contemplate the meaning of your life. By the time the doors shut, you exhale all the air in your lungs and ignore the gentle laugh Watari releases as he bemusingly watches your expression.

~~~~~

L POV

A grin spreads across his lips as he watches the way you toss your bag over your head to shield yourself from the rain as you run into the passenger seat of the car. He knows Watari probably offered you an umbrella, and that you probably refused it on the assumption the rain wasn’t that bad.

Emotions that have rarely, if ever, stir inside Ryuzaki’s chest as he watches the car purr to life and slowly pull out of the hotel parking lot and disappear down the road. What was he doing again? Ah, right– catching Kira.

It’s the main priority at the forefront of his mind, but his heart pulls him in another direction. Watari gives him knowing glances everytime your name is mentioned and the way Light has seemingly caught on to the ‘charade’ places him in an uncomfortable situation.

Sighing in exhaustion, he walks back over to the edge of the bed and sits down idly before flopping his back onto the plush mattress. The world famous detective L would break off this silly relationship and move freely– not caring if a member of his group had unfortunately been put at risk. He wasn’t heartless, he didn’t want members of the team to die, but he didn’t have a reason to go out of his way to protect you. L would never act so irrationally.

But as to the book as L was, Lawliet was still a man. A man with follies, ambitions, hopes, and dreams, and love. He was persuaded by his heart as much as his brain, despite his best attempts to seal off the temptations of emotions as best as he could. The sound of your voice is similar to that of a siren calling a sailor; he knows that this is bad.

Thunder roars again outside, and Ryuzaki sits upright with a tight feeling in his chest. If things were different, if maybe you were work colleagues at a normal job, or if Kira was caught already, he could figure out how to put it into words– how the way he wanted you was real. But he can’t; at least not now.

The image of you is painting in his mind so vividly, he wants to shut his eyes forever if it meant he could see it for eternity. The movement of your hips, the flick of your tongue, the way you kissed him for the second– no third time now had to mean something.

Ryuzaki blinks and turns his attention to the window pane once more, taking in the glow of lightning that flashes outside inbetween crashes of thunder. It’s the first time in his life he wants to be completely honest, so he can kiss you and touch you in a way that shows it’s real.

Pursing his lips, he knows the situation is bad, even worse considering his self restraint is wearing thinner and thinner each time your mouth latches onto his. He’s ok with it though, convincing himself that he’s ok with a fake relationship if it means he gets to keep you to himself and call you his even if you weren’t.

Ryuzaki would never act like this, but L sighs and notices the small bundle of your sweatshirt fabric thrown on the floor from earlier. Taking it in his hands, he can smell the scent of your usual perfume and he clenches his jaw in self disgust.

Tomorrow, Ryuzaki would file the needed documents for constructing a cell with enough precautions to hold Misa in confinement upon her arrest next week; tonight, L does a mental estimate of the time it takes Watari to drop you off and come back before unzipping the fly of his jeans.

a/n time: also the artwork at the top is mine (i usually post fanart on a separate account but i drew that for this series hehe)

YIPPEE just in time for valentine's day hehe

this is my longest chapter to date omg what is a process to make. I was really unsure if wanted to go forward with the 'lets make fake sex sounds' kinda trope, but decided it would be good considering how I want the next chapter to go -> aka Miss Misa gets to finally appear hehe

also sorry but yall in a situationship now and both men are rude af and master manipulators

anywayssss i love seeing ur comments on these, it literally makes my day (and lmk if you want to join the tag list)

comments/likes/reblogs all appreciated <333

-oatmeal

tags: @lechatparle24 @irissfoot @iheteeaifs @automaticpatroltragedy @greenapplesaucepi @thesimpnovao @leiiilaaaa

#l x reader #ryuzaki x reader #lawliet x reader #l x reader smut #lawliet smut #lawliet x reader smut #ryuzaki x reader smut #ryuzaki smut #L smut #L death note #light yagami #death note #oatmealwordslawliet #oatmealwrites #death note smut

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miraclemuncher · 29 days ago

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When will Fred Weasley ask you out?

tags/warnings. hogwarts setting, sixth year/gof, not beta read

wordcount. ~1100

notes. i need to get better at one shots cause how did i let this drag on to four parts?? i’m js built for the longfic life in an era of oneshots. also this is kinda rushed sorray sorray. also requests are open atm!!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

You are beyond bloody confused.

To hell with Fred Weasley and his impractical way of expressing himself.

This is all you’ve dreamed of since he purposely knocked over his cauldron to center Snape’s ridicule on himself instead of you. Now that it was actually happening you don’t even know if it’s real.

You choose to skive off the rest of your lessons at least until lunch. You know yourself enough to figure out that you’ll only end up thinking about Fred if you do attend your morning lessons.

Washed off from the lake water, you finally leave your dormitory to get lunch.

Your friends instantly begin pestering you on why you and Fred were missing from the same lesson. He had arrived tardy, soaking wet and now you had damp shower hair.

You fill your mouth with food to avoid answering them.

Thank Merlin they finally shut up for your own good once you force twelve grapes into your mouth.

One of your friends excuses herself and says, “Um, gotta go. There’s a… I’ve got to study!”

After that, one by one your friends all start leaving with a halfassed excuse and stupid grin.

You grow more confused as you watch them file out the Great Hall.

Your questions are answered when that bloody voice speaks up from behind you.

“This seat taken?” Fred says. He takes note of your inability to respond and helps himself to the empty seat.

You spit out the twelve grapes into a bowl as politely and modestly as possible.

Fred reaches over the table and pops a different grape in his mouth. “I didn’t see you in potions,” he says after swallowing.

“I had to shower off the lake muck,” you run a hand through your wet hair. “Speaking of it, you stink.”

Fred smells himself. “You have a point.” He swings his legs over the bench style seats. “If you need me, I’ll be in the showers. Oh! And don’t forget about the chocolates!” He jogged over to a table with his friends.

You see George and Lee punch and shake him out of pride. Alicia and Angelina excitedly look at him with curiosity.

What could they be saying?

You’re still staring when Fred starts leaving the Great Hall. He looks back at you and you’re caught. You don’t know if you have any self respect left to stop staring.

Fred winks at you, then leaves through the grand doors.

Was that invitation to the showers genuine? What did Fred even mean by it?

Like, is Fred saying he’ll meet you by the showers or like, what if he said it just to say? The same way people say, catch you later, ‘cause they’re obviously not gonna be literally catching you

Wait, why are you even still thinking about this?! It’s way past his supposed shower!

Not even that! You should be paying attention to your charms lecture. You knew you should’ve skived off the rest of that day if it was just going to be like this.

Besides that, you feel George, Lee, Angelina, and Alicia stare holes in the back of your head. How did you wind up assigned to a class with all of them except Fred?

An airplane lands on your desk. You push it off and stomp on it.

Then a paper frog leaps onto your desk. It’s too cute to trample, but you also don’t have it in you to unfold it and read whatever they wrote inside.

They win when a paper butterfly flaps over to your desk and settles on your pinky. It promptly unfolded itself right then and there.

The handwriting reads, What’d you tell Fred?

You look over your shoulder to the four Gryffindors. They promptly duck their heads into their charms book to feign disinterest.

Once you turn around you instantly feel their eyes trained on your back. You make a big show of ripping the note to shreds.

They finally take the hint and don’t bother you for the rest of class.

You try to sprint out of class the moment class is dismissed.

“Hey!” George calls after you. You had hoped the crowding corridor would create enough distance. Looking over your shoulder, you see he’s ruthlessly pushing past everyone.

You reluctantly pause and let him catch up to see what he wants. It’s best to end this now rather than later.

“Have you got an answer for Fred yet?” George shouted over the bustle of the corridor.

In confusion you just squint at him.

“Come on, you’ve gotta give him an answer by the end of the day at the very least,” George impatiently whines.

Was he talking about those damn chocolates? “I’ll open them later!” You snap at the same time as the warning bell rings.

“Huh?!”

You roll your eyes and repeat, “I’ll open them later!” Having enough of George’s pestering you irritatingly say, “I’ve got to go now, George. McGonnagall has no tolerance for tardiness.”

He’s finally satisfied with your answer and triumphantly leaves. George gleefully skips over to Lee, Alicia, and Angelina. You watch him relay your answer to them and they jump in unexplainable joy.

That lot is so weird sometimes.

Who cares? You’re about to be late for class!

Fred catches you on your way leaving McGonnagall’s classroom. It’s quite pathetic how you know Fred shouldn’t be anywhere near McGonnagall’s classroom. According to his time tables you’ve memorized during the start of term, his last class is all the way at the Herbology greenhouses.

He smoothly walks beside you and says, “Open to it later, huh? Time’s ticking, y’know.” There’s a hint of desperation hiding in his tease.

You laugh in confusion. “What’re you talking about?”

“I’m just saying you need to be careful,” he shrugs. “People are gonna start thinking you’re stringing me along.”

Okay, now you’re laughing in pure disbelief. “Sorry, I’m stringing you along?” You repeat. “Very funny, Fred.”

“The Yule Ball is mere days away and you’re leaving me hanging.”

… What is Fred implying right now?

You don’t want to assume anything just yet. You’re gonna have to play it safe. Just play it cool, you got this.

And apparently playing it cool must mean stupidly staring at him in confusion. Your mind is completely blank. There’s no actually fucking way Fred is hinting that he wants to take you to the Yule ball.

Fred also passed. You just stare at him with crinkled eyebrows.

Finally, he speaks up. “Oh Merlin, George can’t even be nosy right,” Fred says mostly to himself, running his hands over his face. He starts retreating backwards, “Seriously, open the chocolates already!” He spins around and starts a light jog down the hall.

Once alone, you tear open the wrapped chocolates. Knowing better than to bite into one after they’ve taken a dip into the Great Lake, you instead break the chocolate in uneven halves.

It crackles into a small firework show.

Fireworks sparkling of your favorite colors spell out Will You Go To the Yule Ball With Me?

So that’s what the twins have been causing a ruckus over all day.

When will Fred Weasley ask you out?

Apparently he did it this morning.

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x yn #harry potter fanfiction

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ageingfangirl2 · 2 months ago

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Imagine Being Bonten's Receptionist (Bonten x F Reader) - Tokyo Revengers

PART 12: THANK YOU GIFTS

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN THIRTEEN

Even though a week had passed since everything was cleared up with your stalker ex, you sit at your desk scratching Bonten behind the ear, thinking that you needed to do something to say thank you to the executives for helping you out of a tough situation when they had better things to do, as criminals. Of course, you couldn’t be obvious because everyone would feel awkward; you needed to be subtle and make each gift meaningful to the executive. Paperwork and emails could wait for the day while you sought out the perfect thank-you gifts.

You know Mikey well enough by now to understand he doesn’t always respond openly to emotions, so you don’t get too sappy with him. One day, when it’s just the two of them, you hand him a small wrapped box containing a vintage toy bike keychain — something simple, nostalgic, and well-made. Attached is a short handwritten note:

‘You’ve let me feel safe without asking for anything in return. Thank you’

Mikey doesn’t say much. He just slips the keychain into his pocket and ruffles your hair as he walks away, a rare softness in his eyes.

For Sanzu, you get something unexpectedly personal: a custom lighter engraved with a fox, clever and sly. It’s sleek, sturdy — something only someone paying real attention would think to give him. When you hand it to him, you just shrug, ‘You kept me laughing when I wanted to fall apart. So…thanks, you psycho.’

He grins, eyes glinting, ‘I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended, but I do like it.’ He flicks it open right then and there, his expression a mix of mischief and something deeper he won’t say out loud.

You know Ran’s a man of aesthetics, so you gift him a pair of sleek, custom cufflinks — one shaped like a snake, the other a rose. You leave them in a small box on his desk with no note. When he finds them, he smirks, already knowing they’re from you.

Later, he swings by your desk, leans on the counter, ‘So what’s this, your way of calling me dangerous but pretty?’

You raise a brow, ‘You said it, not me.’

He chuckles, clearly pleased, ‘You’ve got taste, sweetheart.’

Rindou loves music, so you quietly put together a custom playlist on a USB — stuff he likes, mixed with a few songs that helped you through rough nights. You hand it to him on a day he’s working late, no explanation, just a muttered, ‘Thought you might like these.’

Rindou plugs it in later that night and listens all the way through. He doesn’t say much the next day, but he sets a matching pair of noise-cancelling earbuds on your desk with a casual, ‘You should add more. It was good.’

It’s his version of thank you.

To Kakucho, you give a hand-stitched notebook, its cover embroidered with a discreet phoenix motif. Inside, the first page has a single line written:

‘Because you’re the one who always brings people back from the fire’

You hand it to him one evening while you’re both cleaning up late.

He’s quiet when he reads the first page, fingers brushing the stitching, ‘...You didn’t have to.’

‘I wanted to,’ you reply softly.

He nods once, lips pressing into a rare, quiet smile, ‘I’ll use it well.’

For Koko, you give a custom pen, sleek and high-end, engraved subtly with the word ‘Anchor’

And a note inside the box which reads:

‘You always knew how to find what needed to be found. For others. And me’

You give it to him when no one’s around, not wanting to make a scene.

Koko turns the pen over in his hand, then glances at you, ‘This… isn’t cheap.’

‘Neither is loyalty,’ you reply in a split second.

He gives a soft chuckle, pocketing it, ‘Well played.’

You gift Takeomi a bottle of rare whiskey, the label elegant and minimalist, with a small tag tied to it:

‘For the weight you carry, and the things you never say. I see you’

You leave it on his desk after hours, knowing he’d hate being thanked too directly.

He finds it, reads the note once, then looks out the window for a long time before tucking it away.

The next day, he passes you in the hall, slows his steps just long enough to say, ‘...You’re a good woman. Don’t let this world take that from you.’

To Mochi, you give something simple but deeply thoughtful — a leather card holder, sturdy and cleanly designed, with a hidden pocket inside. Inside the pocket, there’s a small charm — a tiny metal tiger, representing quiet strength.

‘Because even the strong need something to protect them, too’

When you give it to him, you keep it brief, knowing he doesn’t like fuss. He takes it without a word, then gives you a small nod — a rare, silent thanks. Later, when no one’s watching, he moves his ID and keeps the charm right where you put it.

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cap-trio · 29 days ago

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enchanted to meet you

summary: You've always hated attending political parties, until you meet Bucky.

tags: fluff, first meetings, congressman!bucky, bucky is a flirt

word count: 2.7k

note: a second part will be coming soon! lmk if you want to be tagged in it :) | read my other works here

You’ve always hated these political soirees.

Being surrounded by politicians and their boring conversations is not your idea of a fun night, but being an assistant to a congressman means your attendance is required. You aren’t sure why though, seeing as how Congressman Gary never seems to actually need you for anything, instead just leaving you to wander around alone as he mingles with the more important guests. Tonight is no different – he’s off trying to recruit a team against Val while you make your way through what’s essentially a tribute to the Avengers. But you needed a job, so here you are.

You feel someone step up next to you. “Not a fan of these events?” the person asks. You turn and see the one and only Bucky Barnes glancing over at you, an eyebrow raised in a question.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“Because I’m not either,” Bucky says.

It’s a surprise to hear him admit that, but not as surprising as when the news broke that he had been elected into the position. Tonight is the first time you’ve officially met him, only seeing him around City Hall or other galas. There have been several instances where you’ve been caught watching him from afar by Mel, who’s been teasing you about your so-called crush ever since. You’re not sure that’s the word you’d use to describe it – it’s more like an infatuation. You grew up learning about him in school, now getting to see him team up with Sam, and you’ve always been drawn to his life. It’s just a bonus that he’s incredibly handsome, too.

“You’re telling me you don’t like people buttering you up just for their own agenda? Or having to network with people who only care about themselves?” You ask in mock disbelief.

“Can’t say that I do.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy how alone you can feel in a crowded room,” you say wistfully, forgetting for a moment that he can hear you.

Bucky frowns. That feeling is all too similar to him, and it upsets him knowing you feel it too. He turns and sticks his hand out, “I’m Bucky, by the way.” He wants to make you feel less alone, even if it just means a quick introduction before you inevitably decide to find better company.

You shake his hand and introduce yourself, unsuccessfully biting back a laugh at the formality. At least he’s being polite. “Yeah, I know who you are.”

“I didn’t want to assume, and I thought it’s about time I introduce myself. I’ve seen you around before but you’re always alone and I thought maybe you preferred that over talking to some old man,” he admits sheepishly.

So he’s been watching you too. It sends a shock through you to know that, but it also comes with a feeling of insecurity. Your mind reels over what he’s seen you do or overheard you say when you thought no one was paying you any attention.

“I’m around old men all the time, and trust me, you aren’t like them.” Bucky laughs, just a short, quick burst, but it’s enough to fill you with a fuzzy feeling, like being full of static electricity. Not to mention a small sense of pride for making him laugh when he’s usually so stoic and reserved. “I usually do. This definitely isn’t my usual crowd, but it’s nice knowing I’m not the only one who’s miserable at these things.”

“I should’ve introduced myself sooner. We could’ve been having a lot more fun.”

“Yeah, you’ve been holding out on me,” you laugh. “I don’t even know why congressman Gary has me come, I never do any work.”

“He isn’t fun to hang out with?” You can hear the humor in his question.

“Definitely not.” You freeze. “Maybe I shouldn’t have just said my boss is boring.”

“I’m not disagreeing, so your secret is safe with me,” Bucky replies with a wink. “He’s always telling me to read these packets,” he groans.

“Hey!” You gasp while playfully swatting his arm. “I help with those sometimes!”

Bucky chuckles at that. You’re honestly not sure you’ve ever seen him laugh before, but the way he’s been doing it tonight makes you feel like a comedian. You continue on, knowing that dwelling on this feeling won’t do you any good.

“Well, I haven’t exactly been reading them,” he admits. “So I can’t comment if they’re boring or not.”

“Sounds like someone isn’t doing their job,” you taunt, cracking a smile.

“Just like the rest of congress.”

You don’t mean for your reaction to cause a small scene. The laugh is loud enough to turn heads, abruptly making you stop. It’s not your fault Bucky is unexpectedly funny. You can see people’s confusion – what could a newly elected congressman possibly be talking about with some low level assistant? He watches you tense up at the unwelcome attention.

“Hey, I know a blind spot we can hide out at,” he whispers softly against your ear.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Just give me a five second head start and then follow me so we don’t look suspicious.”

The last thing either of you need is to be involved in some baseless scandal. You watch him walk away, count to five, and casually follow in the same direction. As you scan the room again to make sure no one’s watching, you’re thankful to see that everyone’s already moved on.

The hideaway spot is quiet, the sounds of the guests turning into a muffled sound. If you peek around the pillars you can see a perfect view of the event below you.

“How’d you find this spot?”

“I guess I’m still used to finding a place to lay low.”

“Well, thanks for bringing me up here,” you say. “I prefer being the observer rather than the observee.”

“I can understand that.”

“So, how long have you been observing me?” You question.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you doing the same,” he quips.

He’s deflecting the question, but you’re too embarrassed to point that out. Your entire body flushes, mouth opening then closing as you think of what to say.

“I…it’s for work,” you reply. Even you can hear how unconvincing the words sound.

“Yeah, sure.”

Bucky smirks and it elicits the same feeling from earlier. You need to shut it down. Fast.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” you remind him.

“The first time I saw you at one of these things. You were the only one not talking to anyone, not even the other assistants. You caught my eye.”

You swear a faint blush paints the tips of his ears a pinkish hue. You wish you could frame this moment – a reminder that you made Bucky Barnes blush.

“And here I was trying to blend in,” you huff. “I swear I have friends, Mel’s just been busy tonight,” you add, hoping he doesn’t think you’re a complete outcast.

“I never thought you didn’t.” He clears his throat before asking, “And how long have you been watching me?”

“I’m not like a stalker or anything. I learned about you in school, so being in the same room as you has been a weird experience. Not bad weird, just…different. Kinda like seeing a celebrity, in a way.”

“A celebrity,” he muses. “Not sure that’s how I’d describe myself.”

“Well, you know what I mean.”

“So, does that mean you’re a fan?” Bucky teases.

“I…guess? I mean, I do keep tabs on you, but that’s mostly for work.”

“Right. For work.” His lips tug up into a playful smile.

“Yup. Just for work.” As if repeating the words will get him to believe you.

A silence comes and it finally dawns on you that you’re alone with Bucky. You’re not sure why it makes you nervous. Despite what Mel says, you don’t have a crush on him. This isn’t high school. But how else can you explain why you’re feeling this way? Is it just because he’s being nice to you? Attention from attractive people always leaves you feeling flushed. But this is different; you actually feel a connection – a string threaded through both of you. Bucky makes you feel at ease, and though you don’t know it, you're doing the same to him.

Bucky breaks the silence first. “Can I ask you something?”

Your nerves shoot through you, exploding like a firework in your chest. You always hate when people ask this, but you’re not going to mention it. “Sure.”

“If you hate being here so much, why take the job?”

You exhale in relief, thankful for an innocent question. “I was desperate. It’s not what I pictured myself doing, but I needed something fast, so here I am.” If he asked, you feel it’s fair to do the same. “Can I ask you the same thing? Becoming a congressman is quite a career change.”

“Yeah, a former assassin turned politician is quite a difference.”

You can’t get a read on his expression, but you immediately feel guilty for saying anything. “I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, that’s not what I meant. I shouldn’t have overstepped, I sound so insensitive I –”

“Please, just call me Bucky,” he insists. “I’m not upset, I know what you meant. It’s what everyone’s been wondering anyway. I want to keep an eye on Val, and this felt like an easy way in.”

“She’s for sure up to something. I don’t trust her for a second.”

“But aren’t you friends with Mel? How can you trust her?”

“She just needed a job like me. We don’t trust her either, but we’ve got an in at least. I’ve been helping congressman Gary with the information Mel’s been feeding me.”

Bucky smiles, impressed. “I knew I liked you for a good reason.”

“Oh, wow. I uh…thanks.” The words tumble out in a jumbled mess. “I…like you too.” You wince at how the words sound; you don’t want him to get the wrong impression or think you’re trying to make a move on him.

Just as you’re about to apologize, Bucky laughs and says, “Y’know, you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

That makes it ten times worse. He watches your face flush and eyes go wide before you look down at the floor.

One thing the history books didn’t teach you is that Bucky Barnes is a flirt.

Maybe Mel’s right. Maybe you do have a crush on him.

“Thank you.” Do I flirt back? What if I’m misreading the situation and end up embarrassing yourself? It’s not like you’ll be able to avoid him; you’re distant coworkers. But now he’s smirking at you – a challenge to see if you’ll be honest, too. “You’re cute too, congressman.”

“Thank you,” he smiles. You can’t help but do the same.

Your eyes drift out to the sea of people. “I’m not keeping you, am I? I’m sure people are looking for you.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I doubt it. And even if they are, I’m having more fun up here.”

He somehow knows exactly what to say to get you flustered. It sounds completely harmless, like two pals just hanging out, but it makes your entire body heat up like you were zapped by lightning. Like you’re special. Important. To 95% of people in this room, you aren’t. But that doesn’t matter to you when Bucky makes you feel the opposite.

“I am too,” you admit. “Thanks again for bringing me here. I sort of feel like I’m intruding on your private space, though.”

“Not at all,” he insists. “I wasn’t going to leave you down there with the wolves. Plus I prefer your company to mine.”

His words make you feel like the glass of champagne you had earlier – warm and bubbly.

“Don’t be hard on yourself Bucky, you’re great company. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be bored to tears and drunk off champagne.” He chuckles at that. “It’s nice to have a friend here.”

“A friend,” he repeats in a way that makes you worry you said the wrong thing. Or like he’s upset with the word choice. But he moves on before you can question it. “I’m sure Mel wouldn’t be happy to hear that.”

“Oh, she’ll be fine. Trust me, she’s going to die when I tell her about tonight.”

His face falls and you wish you could take the words back. “Or I don’t have to tell her if it makes you uncomfortable. I get it if you don’t want people knowing.”

“It’s not that.”

It hits you that he’s worried you’ve been working him all night, that all of this was a joke to you, nothing but a funny story to tell your friends about.

“Bucky,” your voice softens. “I would never do that. I thought you felt the connection too.” You don’t specify what kind of connection. It stings that he would think that low of you after the conversations you’ve had, but you can understand where he’s coming from.

“I do, and I’m sorry. I know you aren’t that kind of person, but when you said that it just brought up some insecurities and I got in my head.”

“No, I’m sorry. I just meant she’ll be excited because…nevermind, it doesn’t matter.” You’ve said too much, and by the look in his eyes you know he isn’t going to drop it.

That piques his interest. “Go on.”

“It’s silly, really.”

He says nothing, but he gives the same look as before. Another challenge.

“Fine,” you huff. “Because she thinks I have a crush on you. Happy now?”

“Very,” he laughs. “And why does she think that?”

“Can you spare me, please? Take pity on me like you did when you whisked me away up here?”

“That wasn’t pity, I wanted to help. So I kind of think you owe me.”

You know he’s kidding. If you said the word, he would drop it and move on. But only until he’s lying in bed tonight going through every scenario that would lead Mel to believe you have a crush on him. All of this overthinking because you said crush. He feels like a teenager again.

Curiosity of where this will lead wins over being embarrassed about what you’re going to say. If this all goes to shit, you’ll figure out a way to avoid him.

“Because of what I said earlier about how I’ve been observing you. She claims I get this ‘look’ when I do it, and apparently I talk about you too much.”

“All good things, I hope?” Bucky knows about the look; he’s caught you doing it a few times. It always makes him chuckle how you think you’re playing it off, eyes suddenly snapping to a new focus. He finds it adorable.

You nod, maintaining eye contact like you’re trying to assert dominance. If he won’t back down, neither will you.

“Hm. Interesting,” Bucky murmurs in thought, not bothering to expand on it. His eyes flit over to the crowd to find it mostly empty. “Seems like the night is coming to an end.”

“Oh, I guess we should head out.” He catches the sadness in your tone. He feels it too.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you out.”

He desperately wants to offer out his arm for you to link with yours or take your hand in his. Next time, he thinks to himself. Everyone is either too drunk or tired to pay you two any attention as you slip out the front doors.

“I had a nice night,” he says.

“Me too. Thank you again.”

You’re about to walk off, unsure how to end the night, but he stops you. “Here, take this.” Bucky reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small slip of paper. “My business card,” he explains as you take it.

“Oh, thanks.” It catches you off guard – does he want you to call him, or is he doing it to be polite? But the way he’s looking at you, with a glint in his eyes and an almost shy smile, you know what he wants.

“Don’t hesitate to use it,” he invites, solidifying what you were just thinking.

“We’ll see,” you tease before turning to head back to your place. Bucky laughs and shakes his head at himself; he can’t believe he almost made up an excuse to skip the evening all together. He would’ve missed out on something great.

The card feels like it’s burning a hole in your pocket the whole walk home, and you know you’ll be putting it to good use.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #congressman barnes #congressman bucky #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #cassie writes #congressman bucky x reader

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charlottecutepie · 1 year ago

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｡ꪆৎ ˚ Bully (Michael Afton x fem!reader)

while I'm writing fics with William (and making some people’s requests!), i decided to post Michael smut bc there’s lack of content about this boy :)

summary: you're mad at both Simon and Michael for not helping you with project. But guys only mock you, saying stupid jokes about your ex. Wait, was it you or Michael’s voice sounded rather… jealous?

tags: Michael is jealous and kind of possessive, bully!Mike, mention of break up, smut, vaginal sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, kind of rough sex?? (Michael can’t control himself), William Afton mentioned

"Stop smoking." in a loud, angry tone, you tell to a couple of guys beside. One of them turns around and blows smoke right in your face, laughing. "Fuck you, Simon."

"Don't tell me what to do, tuts," Simon frowns and leans against his friend Michael, who was busy reading comics, not paying attention to you. "You've been too nervous and angry lately." guy notices. "Is it because of your ex?"

"Of course, no dick and she's all worked up." Michael adds fuel to the fire without even bothering to turn to you. However, his back stiffened.

"What are you talking about? What does this have to do here? We have a fucking project together and I'm only one doing something, that's why I'm mad at you!"

Simon didn't answer because he just didn't know what to say. You were right. He and Michael didn't do shit, only you worked on the task. Simon just gave you a blank look, raising his eyebrows mockingly. There was a rage boiling inside you that almost made your face turn red.

"Ran after him like a tail." Michael lets out a strangled laugh, finally turning to you, his fingers clutching the comic. "You really loved that boy so much, didn't you?"

Now it's your turn to shut up. Insults and obscenities rise in your throat, threatening to jump out. Michael's face didn't flinch for a second as he continued to pierce you with blue eyes, as if trying to make you uncomfortable, which was puzzling. Michael has always been like this: aggressive, with cruel and stupid jokes, cheeky taunts. But why do his words sound like he's jealous now? Why so much attention to your personal life?

"You two are completely useless, I'll have to ask teacher to pair me with other students." you sigh, putting all your notes, notebooks, sunglasses in your bag, and the next second you leave both guys behind.

Their behavior, especially Simon, who was like Michael's faithful dog, doing everything just to get approval from its owner, infuriated and caused indignation. But more than that, you were hurt their comments about your personal life. Your ex has nothing to do with it.

You go back to school walking through empty corridors since classes have already ended. Of course, you'd have been home a long time ago, too, but thanks to a couple of jerks, you're stuck here until tonight. You angrily punch Michael's school locker, ripping off the poster of his favorite rock band.

"Fuck you, Michael Afton!" you swear, crumpling the poster in your hands and throwing it on the floor.

You had no idea that someone was following you slowly and carefully through the corridors.

Upset and frustrated, you enter lady's bathroom, go to the mirror and look at yourself carefully. Why, you think, he broke up with me? What happened between us?

You straighten your hair, carefully laying it on your shoulders, without interrupting eye contact with your reflection. You need to push these thoughts away, now is not the best time for self-reflection, you need to gather your strength and finish this damn project.

You try to find something in your bag as you take out a lip gloss from your makeup bag. And again feeling of sadness and longing comes through. Now it feels wrong and hurtful whenever you look at that gloss. Your boyfriend always liked it when you applied it. And now it's a painful reminder that will haunt you for a long time. It's just not fair.

Just when you're about to throw that lip gloss in the trash, someone comes into the bathroom. You think it's another girl, so you don't pay attention.

"It was my favorite poster." Michael's voice is slightly angry. An unpleasant surprise is reflected on your face as you turn to him, pressing lip gloss to your chest. This is definitely not what you expected to see in the women's bathroom.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" you hiss at Afton, looking him up and down. "You've been following me?"

"Knowing what a crybaby you are, it was the right decision." Michael shoves his hands into the pockets of his ripped jeans, leaning against the wall. "What if you went to hang yourself? And then Simon and I would be accused of driving to suicide."

"Stop your idiotic jokes at least now! Can't you see that I feel too bad?" you grit your teeth and frown. Your voice sounds offended. Michael's behavior has always been infuriating, but now it crosses all boundaries.

"My father taught me that if a girl is upset, she needs to be supported. That's how all gentlemen behave." the young man says with a sneer.

"Fuck you and your dad, Mike," you shout. "you're just like him, you selfish jerk!"

"Mmm," Michael nods, grinning. "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

You are silent again, not knowing what to say to this insolence. Does Afton really think that in eyes of other people, he's all cool and cocky? Doesn't he realize how stupid his behavior is? Yes, he is certainly a copy of his dad, Mr. Afton, but with a slight difference. The last one has at least some brains.

"My eyes are up here, honey," Michael grins, noticing your gaze. You blink in surprise, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, aren't you ashamed of yourself?"

"I didn't even look there, you idiot." you fold your arms over your chest and turn away, lifting your chin. That's when Michael pushes you against the wall, towering over you.

"Sure." he can't help but smile stupidly. "I must say, you have beautiful eyes, princess. That's what he called you, right?" there was something wrong with Michael's intonation, even this mockery sounded like he wanted to hurt not you, but himself. There was definitely a hint of jealousy in the young man's tone, although you didn't pay attention to it.

With every action and word of Michael, anger grows inside you, which has been accumulating all this time. And then the mixture of all the negative emotions finally reaches the top. You can't get over how much of an asshole Michael is. You'd do anything to shut him up, just to show him his place. But it doesn't take much time, the anger breaks out. Putting the lip gloss back in the bag, you raise your hand and slap Michael hard in the face.

Afton's cheek burns from your blow, it hurts unpleasantly so it takes him a couple of seconds to come to his senses, then he raises his head at you. His hand instantly reaches for the red mark, stroking it to ease the pain. Yes, it was insulting, even a little humiliating, but again he hides it behind an arrogant and satisfied grin.

However, his next words are strangely surprising.

"You know what?" Michael says in a calm voice. "That was hot."

You look at him, not even hiding your disgust at his words. Michael is such an asshole, even much worse than Simon and their two other bully friends. No wonder why Afton is the leader of their stupid bully four.

Just as you're about to slap him again, Afton grabs your wrist, pulling you closer to him. Your eyes widen with shock from his his behavior, you try to break free. Your heart is beating faster from misunderstanding. Being in the hands of a bully, in such an intimate position, when anyone can enter here, makes the situation even more dangerous.

"How stupid of him to lose a beautiful girl like you," Michael whispers, looking at your face, at how your lips are trembling. "I'll repeat, my father taught me to support when girl is sad." the last thing he says before leaning in for a kiss.

For a second, everything in your body, especially brain, stopped working, you froze. Even though Michael is holding you, you don't even try to pull away. Afton's actions become bolder because he sees no resistance, so he tries to get his tongue into your mouth. And that's when you finally realize what's going on and push him away.

"Fuck off, you idiot." you mumble, looking at him point-blank.

"I see that such support isnt enough." Michael bares his teeth and pushes his knee right between your legs what makes your skirt rise a little. At that moment, you blush and try to pull it back, but Michael's hand stops you.

You froze in another shock from another sudden kiss. You expected him to do everything but that. You try to push him away, but it's hard to get out of his grip. Or is it you who's fighting too weakly? At first kiss doesn't seem so pleasant, but then Michael deepens it as his hand moves to your waist, hugging you. The kiss gets more intense when you start responding, your body melts under Afton's touch. You don't even have time to keep up with your thoughts, confused by your own actions.

His lips suddenly feel so warm and pleasant which makes you want more, crave even more of this feeling: to be held like this, to be kissed like this even if it's Michael damn Afton. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him harder. This isn't what you planned when you went here.

When he pulls away from you, you are in oblivion, heat is burning inside. Michael looks at you hungrily, not understanding why you responded. He lets you go and you stumble away from him, but after a moment your back hits wall. You're trying to figure out what just happened. Did he really just kissed you? And you responded with same? Why did this happen at all? There are more questions than answers.

Your heart is pounding as you stare at him, into his eyes, trying to read the answers in them. He caught you off guard, but you didn't push him off right away, you even started responding. The bitter truth is that you liked it more than you wanted to admit. The way he kisses, kind of rude but so hot… It caused an exciting pleasant feeling. But you don't understand how you can be attracted to this bully, in fact, a tormentor, a brute. All thoughts are fucked up and your legs feel like cotton wool.

Michael is elated to see the confusion on your face.

"Little miss hard-to-get," he says, running a finger over his lips. "always trying to be unapproachable." you're staring at him, heart is still pounding from the kiss. You can't find words. Michael feels your vulnerability and it only gives him confidence. "Don't pretend you didn't like it," he says with a sly grin. "I know it by the way you melt in my arms.

So he's also a romantic. However, he sucks at making tremulous speeches.

Feeling of annoyance reappears.

You try to deny it, but deep inside you know that Michael's words are true. You hate what's happening, what you've gotten yourself into. You blame yourself for enjoying it. A feeling of incomprehensible and inexplicable resentment grows inside: why couldn't HE make you feel like this? Why does it have to be Michael? It's unfair.

It's wrong to be aroused by Michael, to feel a pleasant tingling in the lower belly. Wrong, you keep telling yourself. You need to slap that cocky face one more time and get out of here. Forget about everything that just happened.

Why the hell does it have to be Michael? You have to act like this with your boyfriend, it's almost cheating. But a second later, a bitter realization comes to your clouded mind. Right… You don't have a boyfriend anymore.

Michael sees the contradiction on your face and decides to try his luck, as if reading your mind.

"Maybe I'm the one you should be with," he leans closer. "I mean look at me," he says, pointing at himself. "I'm handsome, confident and I know how to treat a girl." he chuckles softly.

No way! You shake your head trying to come to your senses. You know what he's doing, trying to manipulate emotions by hitting on your weak spot: ex. But for some reason, you don't deny his words. It's strange, the feeling of impermanence, misunderstanding is infuriating. And Michael is like some kind of drug right now that you can't resist. Your palms sweating.

You're trying to regain your composure, push him away. But you don't don't strength, especially moral one, to do that. So you just look into his blue eyes, trying to understand the strange feeling inside.

"Have you been jealous all this time?" you ask, without realizing the question yourself, now you are acting only on emotions.

That's when the picture finally starts to show up… Michael's words, actions. All those stares, all those sneers. It was Michael's jealousy, which he could only show in this way.

"Jealous?" he repeats, his eyes widen slightly at your question. Michael was even surprised that you understood so quickly. "You have a rich imagination."

But you know better now. You didn't notice it at all before, spending all your time with your boyfriend. But others, especially Michael's friends, noticed the way he looked at you. Now it's getting clearer, now you see it. He was motivated and is still by something more than just hatred and the desire to mock you forever.

"Don't lie, you're really jealous." it seems that your words hurt him more than you thought. He looks away, staring at the floor.

"Maybe," Michael admits quietly. "maybe i am."

You feel a strange sense of victory, realizing that you've figured out reason of his stupid behavior. But at the same time, you feel guilty. You shouldn't like how the situation is developing and where it's all leading.

When you look into Michael's eyes, the tension only increases. It's as if all the pent-up emotions have been spilling out for so long, turning into an inexplicable lump that confuses both of you.

Suddenly his hands pull your hips closer to him, and you feel his erection through his pants. You both sigh from the close contact. Michael leans in kissing you again, his fingers sliding under your t-shirt, tracing the outline of your breasts. You moan softly into his mouth. Afton pulls away and begins to cover your chin line with hot, wet kisses, then your neck. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes, surrendering to the sensations. You don't want to think so you drive common sense and thoughts away.

Michael slips his fingers behind your bra, unbuttoning it. After that, he gently rolls your nipple in his mouth, sucking on it a little. You exhale, clutching at his hair. This is madness, it's impossible to stand it anymore. Michael's lips leave a trail of passionate kisses along your collarbone, his fingers teasingly descend to your stomach. He stops for a moment to look at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You know," he begins, his voice already hoarse with arousal. "I can get any girl I want."

You bite your lip, trying not to show how much you enjoy it. You realize that Michael is just trying to play on your nerves.

"Yeah?" you ask, trying to hide a groan. "Then what makes me so special?"

Michael grins darkly, his fingers tracing your sensitive nipple.

"I don't know," he replies, and gets a menacing look from you that says he's about to get a smack on head. "Maybe it's because you're so damn sexy when you play hard to get."

His compliments and flirting, if you can call it so, are pretty stupid and dumb, but then why do they cause pleasant goosebumps that cover the whole body? You want this. You need him. You can feel desire intensifying with every second, body craves his touch. You turn to face the wall, pressing your butt against his hard-on, letting him know exactly what you want, even though Michael understood everything a long time ago. And he wants the same thing.

"That's it," he breathes, giving you a kiss on the neck. "You want me to fuck you, don't you?"

"Yes," you're squirming. "I want you to fuck me." you meet his gaze, giving him puppy eyes.

Without wasting a second, he lowers his hand down, his fingers push your soaked panties aside, exposing your already dripping pussy to the cool air.

"God, you're so fucking wet…"

Michael's fingers slide between your folds, exploring your wet cunt. Your knees are buckling, and you have to lean against the wall to keep your balance. Michael smiles slyly, his fingers sweetly toying with your clit. You're whimpering, snuggling up against him, pushing up your skirt. He sighs noisily, thrusting two fingers into you at once, sliding them deeper and deeper inside, stretching you as your body shudders with pleasure.

"Lovely, such a good girl." he mutters, still moving his fingers. "cum for me, cum on my fingers." he whispers.

You grab onto the wall as a pleasant shiver runs through your whole body. Michael continues to stimulate your clit, making you arch. And you reach the peak, your body shivers.

"I've wanted you for so long." his hand turns your face to him, Michael looks deep into your eyes. "Your ex," he says in a low and angry voice. "he's a loser, a real idiot, because he couldn't satisfy you. That's why you're here, with me, in my arms."

Your desire is mixed with guilt, realizing what Michael is hinting at. You think you've somehow betrayed your ex by falling into the hands of someone else. But it's not like that. And Michael will prove it to you.

"You're mine now. That bastard missed his chance." Michael says, pressing his lips to yours.

As soon as Michael's words reach you, he straightens up and pulls your body closer, spreading your legs. He rubs his hard cock against your wet entrance and you shudder again in anticipation, responding to his caresses.

Michael pushes inside you, trying to stifle the desire to fuck you hard and rough, to make you cry, to make you forget that you ever dated anyone before him. Jealousy devours him and a disgusting picture forms in his brain… of you hugging and kissing HIM. But not Michael.

He stops, he pulls almost out only to slam back inside again, this time much deeper. Your walls tighten around his cock, waves of pleasure overwhelm both of you. Michael exhales loudly, squeezes your hips and picks up speed, furiously driving into you.

He can't control himself.

You scream into your own fist, all thoughts of the wrongness of the situation disappear, Michael hits all the right places, causing you to moan sweetly. Each hard thrust echoes with vulgar sound of skin slapping against skin, which only excites you both more. Michael holds you tightly, fucking you as you move your hips in response to his thrusts. The orgasm grows again, a tight knot of pleasure twists in your lower abdomen.

"Michael, I'm… I'm gonna!…" you whimper.

Michael growls in response, already breaking into a wheeze. Sweat rolls off his forehead and he frowns as he continues to ruin your sweet pussy. He likes to hear you lose touch with the world around, knowing full well that he's reason of it. Pushing into you harder and faster, he lowers his hand between your legs, finding your clit with his thumb, ripping off another moan from you.

You cry, arching your back, his finger starts tracing your sensitive nub. The additional stimulation pushes you to the limit, your pussy walls clenches hard around his dick. Orgasm hits you like a wave, forcing you to swallow air.

But even when you're shaking from overstimulation, Michael doesn't stop. He continues to thrust, desperately driving deeper, already reaching your cervix, determined to show you what good sex is. Aggression, jealousy and resentment flare up inside him, regardless of the fact that you're completely his now, he cannot contain his emotions. He grabs you by the neck, squeezing just a little. Michael buries his nose in your hair, hiding his face in it and breathing heavily.

Michael fucks you so hard, so furiously, so fast that there's lack of air in your chest.

"His cock wasn't good as mine?" he pulls back slightly, leaving a kiss on your shoulder. It's like he purposely leaves bite marks and kisses to make sure that you really belong only to him.

You can't think, your eyes roll back in pleasure. You can only mumble plaintively to yourself.

"Yes! Your cock is so good, so good!. . ." you admit between ragged breaths. Michael smiles dreamily, feeling a sense of triumph, such recognition fills him with pride.

"That's right, baby," he bites your earlobe. "all you need is me."

The pleasure becomes all-consuming, hitting right into brain. Michael growls raggedly, feeling that hes also close. Another orgasm snaps in you, a discharge passes through your body. Mike also reaches his climax. His body is shaking. He pulls out of you at the last moment, cumming on the wall, moaning through clenched lips.

Both of you are just standing there, panting and trying to come to your senses. But you feel weak, still not understanding a single bit of what happened. You almost fall, but Michael holds you tight, both bodies sweaty and hot. Michael closes his eyes, breathing down your neck. Unlike you, he is aware and understands well what happened because he planned it all. Anger leaves him, but not jealousy. Michael is a very jealous person, especially when it comes to you.

The muscles begin to relax, a pleasant fatigue covers your body. Suddenly you feel his teeth digging into your neck, leaving a small painful bite. Michael runs his tongue over the small wound, at the same time his hands begin to squeeze your breasts, as if he is afraid to let you go.

"You're disgusting." you're mumbling.

"I take after my father." Michael answers you, not hiding the joy in his voice.

Though Michael will throw away the lip gloss anyway.

#fnaf x y/n #Michael afton smut #fnaf x reader #fnaf smut #michael afton x reader #michael afton #michael afton x you #michael afton fnaf #fnaf x you #five nights at freddy's

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simp4konig · 1 year ago

Note

Okay okay I have to ask, what’s your fav head canons of Nikto then? I love hearing other people’s ideas and head canons of cod characters ^^ 💕

Ngl, i get inspired by other people's headcanons, and i make headcanons off THEIR headcanons 🥲👍… I'm unoriginal 😔💔

SOOOO, im “” Tagging”” (by that i mean putting // after the @ so the original creators dont get the notifcation for this LMAO=) blogs whose own works inspired me to create my own headcanons 🥰❤️

General Nikto Headcanons ❤️

Word Count: 1,584.

Tag List: ♡ @simpforkonig ♡ @rustic-guitar-notes ♡ @best-soup ☆ @lotionlamp ♡ @trepaika ☆ @luci4theminorannoyance ☆ @happy-mushrooms ♡ @nightlyvoids ♡ @skeletalgoats ♡ @aethelwyneleigh27 ☆ @arrozyfrijoles23 ♡ @dobaddo ☆ @the-second-sage ☆ @wil-xyz ☆ @revnatheshadow ☆ @feelya

Allusions to NSFW beneath the cut! Readers are warned.

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Blunt and straight to the point. Sees no rhyme nor reason in beating around the bush and sugarcoating his words. As a result, he can be viewed as insensitive and lacking in empathy.

Impatient, and has a short fuse, so blows up often. Only you are able to be the calm after his storm, subduing him with soft reassurances and whispered words.

To say that he is possessive would be an understatement — he is extremely territorial.

After his torture, he is wary of the few things that he posesses and can actually call his own (you). His biggest phobia is losing you, and his irrational fear is someone stealing you away. Any prick unlucky enough to not catch on to you two dating will be lucky enough to survive the beating that he is given.

On that note, he is simultaneously self-assured, and insecure.

His mask is a part of him, and personal. It will take him months for him to shed said part of him.

Constantly fears that you will leave him once he reveals his face to you, so puts it off for as long as he possibly can. The day that he takes off his mask, only for you to be so casual about it and passing it off as your day-to-day, is the day that became cemented in his hard, stony heart.

Has conflicting views towards marriage. On the one hand, is an official document declaring your relationship really so necessary? Isn't an expensive wedding superfluous, and too sensational? To him, all of that is redundant — he's yours, and you're his…

…On the other hand, a glistening ring on your finger invokes a primal desire to make you more his than you are already. It would be a declaration of a love which even death wouldn't do part. Maybe he should pay more attention to the rings on display at the jewellery stores you pass by when shopping occasionally together.

An introverted man, who finds solace in solitude; excluding you, his partner, he has no companions, and rarely associates with anyone else. The voices in his head are bothersome enough, so why does he need additional voices bothering him? With that said, you would think that your presence would be a bother — especially with your mindless chatter when Nikto doesn't grunt at the idle small talk at times, wholly unresponsive for the majority of the time — but the moment you give any indication of leaving, he seizes your wrist, his cold, icy eyes silently pleading for you to stay. And you do. You always do.

Bringing me onto my next point: he is a good listener. Your ramblings are all that to you; ramblings. To Nikto, however, it's his chance to unpick all the information about you, down to the littlest of details. You wrongly assume that your words fall on deaf ears, but he listens, and he memorises every opinion you have, every statement you make, and even the small anecdotes that you share, which becoming engraved in his brain. He goes over every sentence religiously, as if it was the Bible.

He has an exceptionally good memory, tending to remember things that you had forgotten. Mention something that you craved in passing? He would surprise you with it the next time you bring it up. Alluded to someone who insulted you and ruined your day? Well, it would be no surprise that that person would never ruin your day ever again.

He is like a cat in the sense that he is an unwanted stray. However, when you came to want him, it dawned on you that he was no cat, but a panther. A predator — savage, vicious.

He would kill for you, no questions asked (He has already done it, but you don't know about that. After all, you hadn't asked him that question yet, only in jest. Truth be told, he has made so many death threats that you have become desensitised to them, dismissing them as nothing more than that: threats).

He would have died for you (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE @//charliemwrites’s DEPICTIONNOF NIKTO IN THIS SCENE??????? HAD ME ON MY KNEES 🛐💍🧎🏼‍♀️ PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE VI NEED HIM SOVBAD); however, when you were hyperventilating as you sobbed and were close to reaching hysterics, that's when he realised that he should value his life more.

Incredibly stealthy. You've seen his execution animations… 🤒 Uses that stealth to sneak up on you whenever your guard is down to smack your ass. 🤭

Insomnia troubles him at night, the relief of sleep rarely coming to him; therefore, he tends to be nocturnal, buying groceries and going about the usual errands you would have otherwise done during the day. When you wake up, that empty fridge is magically stocked with your favourite food, your bear snoozing sometimes — most of the time he stares at you like a creep. 💀 /aff

When he does sleep, it tends to be during the day, and it's almost as if he is a bear entering hibernation

He sleeps like a plank — on his back, his arms by his sides, and his legs straight. You'll curl onto his side, your head on his chest, his legs between your core, and a strong arm wrapped around your waist.

Snores. REALLY loud. 😬 ONLY when you are in his arms 🙄 — when he sleeps alone, he is eerily silent.

Subsequently finding him laying in bed, still and silent, you were sobbing, thinking that he died in his sleep. Finally, after minutes of shaking him awake, he opened one eye, and grumbled groggily: “Дорогая, shut up. I am not dead. Not when I have you to live for. Now, come.”

Once he is asleep, good luck getting him to wake up again; unless you somehow manage to disentangle yourself from his arms — only then, when his myshka is missing, does he begrudgingly get up from bed, stand outside the bathroom door, and whisk you back to bed, willfully ignoring your complaints.

Proud of being your protector. Always has his hand[s] on you in some way or other, protectively keeping you by his side.

Has 20/20 vision, and perfect hearing.

Don't mistake his opening of pickle jars and water bottles for you as chivalry — he is taking advantage of it to show off his muscles for you. Doesn't want you to ask if you want to cup a squeeze of his bicep — when he sees you staring, he will forcibly take your hand and put it on his arm, positively smirking beneath that mask of his.

Has a staring problem and is unashamed of it. From his point of view, there is no problem in staring at you all day and every day.

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Eye contact with him is intense. Whenever you avert your gaze, he instantly grabs your chin to angle it so it's facing him. Eye contact during sex is a given.

Despite not wanting to be a father, he has an insatiable breeding kink (does not care whether you are a female, a male, an infertile female, or other — he is delusional in that sense).

Although he isn't against children per se — mainly indifferent to them, if I'm honest — wouldn't want to pass on the generational trauma onto his brood. He would prefer his bloodline ending with him.

His dirty talk is so filthy that you get wet from just his voice and innuendo. (Thank you @//xoxunhinged for your headcanon 😫💦)

His animalistic instincts are so prominent that you've become convinced that he purrs whenever you stroke that sensitive spot on his scalp, and growls in between grunts as he thrusts into you.

Is rough, leaving dark hickeys and bruises, but he would never, ever hurt you. He's rougher than most, but has sufficient self-restraint to be realise ahead of time if he is making you uncomfortable.

You are his deity, and he worships you — if he was to ever hurt you, he would enter a state of loathing. Since you were a merciful God, he would take the liberty of punishing himself — retribution suited to his crime.

One time you two were play wrestling and he almost dislocated your hip on accident. He didn't touch you again for at least two weeks, until he finally considered himself worthy of your touch.

Is dominant in bed, for two major reasons: because he prefers exerting the control which was forced upon him, relishing in having you submit to him; manhandling you to showcase his strength

A third reason is because if you were to ever top him, he'd cum embarrassingly quickly.

Probably gets off to being stronger than you. Deliberately puts you in positions which render you powerless, only able to take what he gives you.

Whenever you enter his room, he always sits in the darkness. Insists: “I do not need lights. Lights are wasted when I can see in the dark.”

Which is true... but it is also a pretence to hide the concerningly detailed shrine taking up an entire wall, dedicated to you. You'll come to find all of your lost trivial belongings when you mistakenly flick on the light switch.

His loyalty and devotion is unparalleled to any other's. He is utterly and unashamedly down bad for you, and he is willing to do anything and everything to keep it that way.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to do much, because you, too, love him. A lot.

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A/N I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIMI NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEEDH IM I NEED—

Yeaah i thought comparing him to a panther would be cool 🐈‍⬛

“Guard dog” and just anything to do with a “dog” is an overused trope to me at this point 😐. Dont get me wrong!!!! , it doesnt mean that i dont LIKE the trope!!!! , but my own interpretation of Nikto is a little different, abd i think it suits him better,, Esp bc panthers technically 🤓☝️ do *not* exist, which links to how the definition of his name in Russian is “Nobody” :)

An unconventional animal for a very unconventionally attractive man😽,,

Anyways, it is time for a cigarette 🚬🤏😪. I will return in approximately 56 business days (trust me guys 😋✌️).

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thewritingrowlet · 9 months ago

Text

The Office Romance pt. 1, ft. tripleS Seoyeon, Kep1er Dayeon

tags: creampie, daddy kink

length: 8k+

author's note: It's been a long while since I've written about Seoyeon. So, to rectify that, I'm featuring her in this start of another series (this feels like a bad idea, ngl).

“Miss Yoon, to my office, please,” you say into the landline on your desk that’s connected to Seoyeon’s. “On my way, sir.”

Within seconds, Seoyeon appears in front of your eyes, and you lock the door behind her with a push of a button. “Sir?” You shake your head. “It’s not the time for that.” She knows what you’re getting at. “Oppa?” “I miss you, sweetheart.” She looks at you confusedly. “Sorry?” You take a deep breath before continuing your point. “We haven’t spent time for ourselves recently, have we, sweetie—we’ve been so busy with work.”

Seoyeon sits on the empty chair on the other side of the desk. “That’s true,” she sighs, “so, what’s your idea?” You suggest getting lunch together, but she seems hesitant to take you up on the offer. “People will see, though,” she says quietly. You close your eyes as realization hits: only a handful of people (who you trust the most) know about you and Seoyeon, and it’s safer for the both of you to keep it that way.

Without command, tears start flowing out of your eyes, and Seoyeon jumps off her chair in shock. “Huh, what—oppa, are you okay?” You nod. “I-I’m fine; I just realized how complicated our relationship is.” Seoyeon isn’t convinced that you’re fine, so she pulls you onto your feet and hugs you tightly. You put your lips on her forehead, feeling apologetic for bringing this life upon your lovely girlfriend. “I’m so sorry, sweetie—I didn’t mean to drag you into this life like this.”

Seoyeon has been your number one supporter since day one; she’s been by your side through all the ups and downs of the company, unwavering in her approach to this difficult job while maintaining the other side of the coin as your girlfriend. She’s doing all these things for you, and the only things she’s asking in return are your loyalty to her and commitment to the job—on top of appropriate pay, of course.

“It’s a good thing that you’re paying me a ton for this,” Seoyeon tries to lighten the mood. You crack a little laugh. “I’m glad that it’s enough for you.” She looks at you in the eyes. “I mean, with sex on top of it, it’s more than enough.” You smile a little before frowning again when another realization hits. “We haven’t had sex in a week,” you say quietly. Your girlfriend smiles, showing you the incredible patience that you admire her for. “It’s fine, oppa; like you said, we’ve been very busy with work.”

An idea enters your mind. “What do you say we spend this weekend for ourselves, sweetie?” Seoyeon nods enthusiastically. “Sounds great, oppa,” she says, “I must warn you, though: if you don’t touch me at least twice, I’m quitting this job.” “You got it, sweetie.”

Seoyeon asks you to return to your seat, and because you expect that she’ll want to leave your office and get back to work, you unlock the door for her. “I heard that,” she comments, “are you kicking me out, oppa?” You blink rapidly in confusion. “Excuse me?” She leans very closely towards you. “Don’t you want a blowjob first?” Her whispered words give you goosebumps everywhere, and you can’t help but nod. “That’s what I thought.”

Seoyeon pushes your chair backwards a little to make space for her to get on her knees. “Feed me your dick, oppa,” she allures. Without wasting too much time, you unzip your trousers and pull them down along with your boxers, exposing your hard cock to your girlfriend. “Omo, you’re excited to see me, aren’t you?”

You let out a moan when Seoyeon first lets you in her mouth. “That’s really good, baby—fuck, you’re so good.” Much to your satisfaction, your girlfriend starts bobbing her head along your length faster. Your eyes gradually close as your eyelids feel heavy, but that’s when she slaps your leg to get your attention—Seoyeon doesn’t like it when you’re not looking at her during a blowjob. “Sorry, baby; you’re just too good,” you reason.

She’s trying to say something, but because your shaft is lodged in her mouth, nothing but intelligible sounds come out. You see that she’s tapping the back of her head, though, so you guess that she wants you to put your hand there. “Alright, alright, here.” You place your hand on the back of her head, expecting nothing from her in return.

She proves you wrong, however, as she negotiates more of your shaft deeper into her mouth, possibly into her throat. “Good girl, baby,” you utter without thinking twice. Not satisfied yet, Seoyeon fixes her hands on your knees and forces herself to take the entirety of your length, ignoring whatever blaring alarm from her body and brain, and at the same time, taking you closer to cum-land.

“Baby,” you finally manage to say something, “I’m going to cum.” Seoyeon removes you from her mouth momentarily to gather herself. “S-sure,” she says between heavy pants, “one—oh, God, one second, please.” You lift her chin so that you can look right into her big, adorable eyes. “I love you,” you whisper to her, “thank you for making the time for this.”

You can tell that she wants to be kissed but is hesitant to come in for one considering your cock was just in her mouth, so you take the charge and kiss her passionately. “I like that,” Seoyeon quips, “that’s a green flag for me, you know.” You run a thumb back and forth on her cheek. “I love you, sweetie—I love you sooo much.” She smiles, a mix of cuteness and sexiness shown on her face. “Give me your cum, then, sir.”

Seoyeon opens her mouth as wide as she can, and there’s nothing better for you to do than to shove your cock into her mouth. “I’ll give you my cum, baby; don’t worry about nothing.” She closes her eyes when you start fucking her mouth while making sure her teeth are off your cock. “C’mon, Yoon Seoyeon, you can do this—you’ve done this dozens of times,” she tells herself. Thinking that you’re close, she fixes her hands on your knees again to prepare for your semen.

Even though she has prepared for it beforehand, Seoyeon still panics when her mouth is suddenly flooded with your cum. She tries to stay in place and receive everything, but despite her best efforts, it starts leaking out of the corners of her mouth, and she can only hope that it doesn’t land on her clothers. “Should’ve undressed first,” she thinks.

Salvation comes to her as you place a palm under her chin while pulling out at the same time. “Come here, sweetie.” You pull her head closer to you to help make sure her clothes stay clean. “Thank you, baby—thank you for everything,” you say as you clean her face with facial tissues.

“Do you want to spit that out, baby?” Seoyeon shakes her head, and instead swallows your load in one go. You show her a big smile. “You’re such an amazing girl, you know that?” She thanks you for the kind words (and the load). “Do I look okay, though, oppa? Am I too messy?” You run your fingers through her hair to help her tidy up. “Should be okay now, baby.” “Thanks, oppa.” She gives you a peck on the back of your hand. “See you later, okay?”

Seoyeon makes her way out of your office, and as soon as she closes the door behind her, she sees Dayeon, who’s sitting on a chair while hugging a big binder. “You were there a long time, Seoyeon-ah—what were you doing?” “I was just doing my job, Dayeon-ah,” she replies, trying to play it cool. “That must’ve been stressful, because your hair is quite messy,” Dayeon strikes for the second time. Seoyeon’s heart jumps a little, but she manages to deflect once again. “It was a pretty serious matter.”

She can tell that Dayeon isn’t entirely convinced, but whatever is in that binder matters more. “So, is he free now?” Seoyeon nods. “You might want to ring the bell first,” she adds, and apparently, it sounds odd to Dayeon, as proven by the raised eyebrows. “Is that so? Why, is he naked?” It’s getting hard for Seoyeon to stay serene. “No, but he has a lot of work other than whatever is in that thing.” “Sure, he does,” Dayeon presses the bell to your office, “well, see you later.”

Seoyeon watches on as Dayeon disappears behind the door to your office. “You’re not stealing him from me, you bi—” A ding from her phone interrupts her train of thoughts; it’s an incoming text from you, thanking her for making you cum and relieving some stress. “See this? He’s mine, not yours.” She takes a seat on her chair and promptly lets out a deep sigh. “Why are we doing it like this, oppa? Can’t we just tell the world we belong to each other?”

Dayeon enters your office with a big smile. “Yes, Miss Kim?” She reaches behind her head and frees her hair from the tie, showing you a rather sexy side of her. “Miss Kim? Really?” She slowly makes her way closer to your desk, and only now do you notice that the first two buttons on her blouse are undone, letting you peek at the white lacy bra she’s wearing underneath. “When are you going to treat me like you do Seoyeon-ie, boss? I don’t want to wait forever, you know.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss Kim,” you deflect, trying to stay solid under pressure. “Also, it’d be helpful if you'd stop trying to seduce me every time you walk into my office.”

Dayeon places her hands on your desk and bends forwards just enough for you to see her cleavage more freely. “Oh, c’mon, don’t be too hard on me.” She smirks when she catches you looking at her chest. “Don’t you want to touch these plump tits, boss?” You shake your head to both clear your mind and tell her no. “I have a girlfriend, Miss Kim,” you open a card, “please stop.”

You expect her to listen and stop trying to seduce you, but instead, she moves to sit on your desk with her legs slightly parted. “You’re such a good boyfriend, aren’t you, boss? Here you are, working hard at your company while she’s off doing God-knows-what.” “My girlfriend is a hard-working woman, Miss Kim,” you say, not accepting the slander. “So am I, and that’s why you should consider giving me a chance.” She must’ve missed the single most important detail of this exchange, which is the fact that you’re taken, but you just want to stop at this point. “Miss Kim, let’s address whatever you actually came here for, and we can pretend this never happened.”

Seeing that there’s no way to progress, Dayeon jumps off your table and tidies up her clothes. “Fine,” she sighs, “I guess we can talk about work instead.” She places the thick binder on your desk crassly. “These are reports on our trainees, let me know which of these girls you want to choose for debut.” “I need—” Dayeon interrupts by placing a flash drive on your desk. “Here are their practice videos,” she adds.

“Let me know about your thoughts about these girls soon, okay?” Dayeon then makes her way out of your office, and as soon as she disappears behind that door, you let out a big sigh. “Why are we doing it like this, Seoyeon-ah? Can’t we just tell the world that we belong to each other?”

“Seoyeon-ah, why are you still here?” Your question snaps her out of focus, making her jump in shock a little bit. “Oh my God, you didn’t have to surprise me like that.” She pats her chest to calm down. “Can I help you, sir?” You show her a warm smile while pointing at the clock hanging on the wall. “This is quite literally not the time for that, is it?” Seoyeon’s face instantly relaxes and her body sinks into her chair, releasing the tension she has been holding for hours now. “You want to go home, baby?” “I still need to finish this thing, though,” she says.

Your heart sinks: you forget how much you rely on Seoyeon for a plethora of things, taking her help and presence for granted more often than you’d like to admit. “We can continue tomorrow, love; let’s just go home, please.” Seoyeon stares at you blankly, possibly contemplating if she wants to finish it tomorrow and go home with you tonight. “Yeah, let’s go home,” she finally comes to a decision, much to your delight.

Seoyeon looks around to make sure there’s no custodian or security guard around, and when she sees that the coast is clear, she takes your hand in yours. “I love you, oppa,” she says softly, filling your heart with some much-needed warmth. “I love you more, baby, and I can’t do anything without you,” you reply, making sure she knows that she’s appreciated. Seoyeon giggles. “Would you consider giving me a raise, then?” “Yes, absolutely; I’ll see what I can do, okay, baby?”

As soon as you step out of the elevator, you see Dayeon hanging out with a security guard with her back turned against you, which gives you enough time to let go of Seoyeon’s hand and pretend nothing happened. Dayeon turns around when the guard points inside where you are.

“Oh, hello, boss,” Dayeon ignores Seoyeon and only greets you, “going home?” You put on a smile and simply nod to her question. “See you tomorrow, Miss Kim.” Initially, she doesn’t say anything when you walk past her with Seoyeon, but as you’re inching closer towards your car, Dayeon opens her mouth. “Do you sleep with your secretary, boss? Is she that girlfriend you spoke of?”

Both you and Seoyeon stop in your tracks, and admittedly, you’re very nervous. “What the hell are you talking about, Dayeon-ah,” Seoyeon comes to your aid, “I have a boyfriend, just so you know.” “You don’t actually think that I’m that stupid, do you? It’s not hard to put 2 and 2 together,” she presses on.

After thinking about it for a moment, you decide to interrupt and just reveal the whole thing. “Yes, Miss Kim, I do sleep with my secretary who is also my girlfriend.” You sigh, feeling somewhat relieved. “So, please stop trying to get to me; I don’t want to cheat on my beloved.” “Yeah, okay.” Dayeon bows while her eyes release tears, “I apologize, sir—have a good evening.” You look at Seoyeon, and she looks right back at you with this flat expression that you can’t figure out the meaning of. “You too, Miss Kim. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Seoyeon is oddly quiet tonight, visibly tense and deep in thought—not even a flavorful dinner managed to get her to relax. “Love, I hope you’re not thinking about work right now.” She shakes her head. “I’m just thinking about Dayeon-ie.” You stay silent and see if she wants to continue. “How long do you think she has had a crush on you, oppa?” “I don’t know, honestly,” you sigh, “I think the more important question is why me, because aside from my position, I’m just a regular, boring guy—even you acknowledge that I’m a boring person.”

Seoyeon moves to sit on your lap. “Just so you know, dating a boring guy is fun, as odd as that sounds,” she says. Truthfully, you’re glad to hear that, but you’re curious about the reason. “Just think about it, oppa: because you’d rather stay at home and be boring, I don’t have to worry about you running around the city looking for one-night stands or side chicks.” “I mean, yeah, but I also don’t go out much—isn’t it boring for you to stay at home with me a lot?” Your girlfriend shrugs. “I mean, you’re still willing to go out on dates when we have time.”

Now that Seoyeon has brought up that topic, you suggest getting dinner together tomorrow after work, which makes her light up. “Hmm, yeah, about that,” she fetches her tablet from the table, “the dance instructors are inviting you to attend a monthly evaluation tomorrow at 6 p.m.” “Okay, but can I have you after that?” Seoyeon doesn’t answer right away and scrolls up and down on her tablet. “Yeah, you can,” she says, “what do you have in mind?” “Dinner, love—did I not tell you that already?” Seoyeon laughs. “Sowwy, daddy.” “Daddy? What, you horny?” Seoyeon places her hand on her crotch and then yours. “I need a bit of warmup, but you seem eager.” “I’m always eager for you, baby, but do you want it?” You ask to make sure you have consent. “Only if you promise to make me cum.”

In the few years you’ve been dating her, only twice have you not made her cum, both involving you busting early: the first one was because you were strangled by her ass and couldn’t hold it back, and the second one was because you were not in peak condition. Seoyeon expressed her disappointment on both occasions but didn’t let you touch her to rectify your failure. Ever since then, you make sure to make her cum first before you try to chase your own orgasm, and it’s been working well so far.

You carry Seoyeon like a koala, and she circles different parts of your body with her arms and legs. Once you’re close to bed, you pretend as if you were going to drop her, making Seoyeon scream the loudest you’ve heard from her in recent memory—eh, actually, that scream she let out when you surprised her on her birthday was likely louder.

“That was so not funny, oppa,” she whines, “why would you do your girlfriend like that?” “Sowwy, baby.” You gently set her down on the bed. “How about that, love?” Seoyeon looks away momentarily. “I was about to get mad, but let’s be real, how can I get mad at you, oppa?”

You kiss her fleetingly. “You’re so sweet, aren’t you, baby? You’re always so kind and hard-working.” Seoyeon’s boba eyes widen even more while her cheeks are painted pink. “W-what are you talking about, oppa? Why so sudden?” You take a knee in front of her. “Baby, I’m so thankful for you, both personally and professionally; I seriously wouldn’t last a day without you.” She places her hands on either side of your face. “Thank you, oppa,” she says, “life has been very pleasant with you by my side.”

The two of you came to the bedroom to have sex, but here you are, crying to your heart’s content in each other’s arms because you’ve been overwhelmed by emotions. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” you wipe tears off your cheeks, “oh, I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to make you cry like this.” Seoyeon shakes her head. “W-with you, I-I cry because of the right reasons, oppa.” You chuckle slightly. “Is this a good segue to sex, though?” Seoyeon pecks you on the forehead. “Us crying right now means good emotions, and good sex needs good emotions,” she says.

After calming down, Seoyeon takes off her T-shirt, revealing a black bra that you love seeing her wear the most. “I consent, oppa.” You join her in undressing and let your clothes scatter all over the place. “I love you, sweetheart,” you say softly, “I’m glad to be with you all the time.”

Seoyeon falls backwards onto the bed, and you take the chance to take her shorts and panties off. “Oppa, before we start,” she calls a timeout by placing a finger on your cheek. “Please don’t get in my ass; I’m not in the mood for it.” “Of course, baby—thanks for letting me know.”

You grind your tip against her entrance, and Seoyeon promptly starts moaning. “Vanilla is great, isn’t it, baby?” “Y-yes,” she says, “I-I can feel how much you love me.” “That’s great to hear,” you whisper, “here I go, baby.” “Yes, make love to—oh!”

With little problem, you ease your cock into her pussy, her warm walls hugging your shaft snug. You hear her soft and angelic moans in your ear, and you’re doing your best to keep this tempo that’s nice and relaxed amidst the temptation to go hard and fast.

“Oppa, I love you—I love you so much.” “Oh, I love you more, darling; more than words can express.” Seoyeon lets out a mix of giggles and moans. “Really?” You peck her on the lips before answering. “We’re having sex right now so that I can show you, instead of telling you.” She places her soft hand on your cheek. “Keep showing me, then, oppa.”

You hug her tightly as your shaft moves in and out of her, exchanging moans with each other freely. Seoyeon suddenly lifts her butt off the bed while yelping. “You alright, cutie?” She nods. “J-just goosebumps,” she says. Now that she’s mentioned it, you notice that you also have goosebumps on your forearms. “We’re equal, baby.”

You’ve lost track of time at this point; the pace makes it feel like it’s been hours, but neither of you is showing signs of impending orgasm just yet—at least that was the case, until Seoyeon announces that she’s getting close. “Y-you need to go faster if you want to make me cum, oppa,” she says. “I don’t want to—it sounds exhausting,” you crack a little joke. She lets out a gasp of disbelief, playing along with your joke. “Su-surely you’re not that mean.”

You straighten your posture and fold her in half. “Oh, I’m so ready for this,” Seoyeon approves of the change of position. Once your knees are set, you start pumping into her fast and hard. “Yes, daddy, yes!” She pulls out the kinky name out of her bag. “Fuck me, daddy!”

Your girlfriend is moaning without any care about anything else, while you’re endlessly fucking her; whatever agreement you had about vanilla and making love has been thrown out the window.

“More, more! Make me cum, daddy!” Seoyeon is great at pushing the right buttons at the right time to egg you on. You fasten your grip on her ankles and move your hips as fast as you can while praying that you won’t bust too fast.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” “Y-you only no-noticed that now?” You chuckle a little. “Yeah, kind of,” you say, “are we ready to cum yet?” “S-soon, daddy.” “Hard to get, aren’t you, cutie?” Amidst the endless moaning, Seoyeon manages to let out a laugh. “Y-you love me f-for it, d-don’t you, daddy?” “Damn right.”

After what feels like forever, Seoyeon finally announces that she’s ready to cum any second now. “Just a bit more, daddy, please.” You opt to let her legs relax and come in for a hug, having had enough of being rough. “Come on, my love,” you whisper in her ear, “cum for me, please.”

A part of your mind wonders if the slower pace will postpone her orgasm, but no is the answer you’re getting, as Seoyeon asks you to pull out when her orgasm hits, her legs and thighs shaking as per usual. You lie on your side next to her while your hand gently runs on her head. “You’re always so pretty, baby—even prettier when you cum, might I add,” you praise her. She wants to say something back, but her heavy pants prevent her from doing so, hence the nods. “Take your time, baby; we have all night.”

You’re getting some looks from a bunch of people when you’re walking through the building with Seoyeon, and you wonder if you’re simply being paranoid. “Baby, is it just me or are they looking at us weirdly?” “I don’t know, and I don’t want to know.” Seoyeon picks up the pace of her steps while keeping her gaze forwards.

You invite her to your office before releasing her into the wilderness that is secretary work. “I’m sorry, baby; I just wanted to make Dayeon-ie stop flirting with me.” She sighs. “Yeah, it’s fine; I didn’t want to stay silent while she kept pursuing you either.”

The bell to your door rings, and Dayeon appears soon after. “Hello,” she says, “am I interrupting?” You and Seoyeon look at her in confusion. “No, no,” you break the silence, “please come in, Dayeon-ah.” As she gets closer, you see that her eyes are red—she must’ve spent some time crying. “I-I’d like to submit my resignation letter.” Dayeon places a piece of paper on your desk, sobbing as she does. You quickly scan the letter, and under the reason section, she’s written that “she is no longer able to stay professional at work.”

Aside from her shenanigans, Dayeon is great at her work. As a former idol herself, she has a keen eye when it comes to evaluating trainee candidates, hence how she was able to keep her position this long despite her occasional unprofessionalness.

As thoughts run amuck in your head, Dayeon sobs more and more. “S-sign it, please, sir,” she urges you. You pick up a pen from your shirt pocket, but you can’t bring yourself to sign the letter. “Oppa,” Seoyeon steals your attention, “don’t sign it.” Both you and Dayeon look at her confusedly. “Let her stay, oppa; we need her.” “I-I literally tried to steal your boyfriend, Seoyeon-ah—why would you let me stay?”

Seoyeon holds Dayeon’s hands. “I know you did, but at the same time, you didn’t know that we were dating; I don’t want to punish someone for being clueless,” she reasons, and you think that it’s a reasonable point. “She’s right, Dayeon-ah,” you support your girlfriend’s idea, “you’re a valuable personnel in this company.” You put down your pen and the letter. “Now that you know about our relationship, I hope that you’ll stop chasing me and be able to put your expertise to good use.”

Seoyeon pulls her into a hug, which makes Dayeon burst into tears. “T-thank you, Seoyeon-ah—thank you, boss. I-I promise I will work hard.” Your girlfriend looks at you with a smile and teary eyes, and your eyes are threatening to release tears because of this sight.

Dayeon quickly pulls away from the hug and wipes tears off her cheeks. “S-someone give me orders—please tell me what to do.” Seoyeon whispers something to her ear, and considering how her eyes widen seemingly in shock, it must be something crazy. “What did you say to her, sweetie?” Your girlfriend doesn’t answer while Dayeon makes her way around your desk and kneels between your legs.

“Let me suck your cock, sir.”

You look at Seoyeon, who has a naughty smirk on her face. “What the hell did you just tell her?” She shrugs. “She wanted your dick, so that’s what she’s getting.” You want to say something back, but you’re distracted when Dayeon unzips your trousers. “Look at her, oppa, and tell me she’s not excited right now.” Dayeon indeed seems excited and ready. “Fine,” you decide to play along, “we’re not doing this ever again, just so we’re clear.”

You inhale sharply when you feel Dayeon licking the tip of your cock. “I will make sure you remember this, boss—you can tell me later if I’m better than your girlfriend.” “Just get on with it, please,” you say, oddly eager about getting a blowjob from another girl—a home wrecker.

She parts her lips and slowly negotiates your shaft into her mouth, seemingly (and understandably) struggling with your unfamiliar size. In the corner of your vision, you see that Seoyeon is moving to stand behind Dayeon. “Deeper, slut—if you want to please him, you have to show more effort.” She pushes Dayeon’s head forwards, making her gag on your cock. “Sweetie, be gentle with her,” you say. “Nah, she can take it.”

It is when the gags get worse that Seoyeon lets Dayeon remove you from her throat. “N-not too rough—h-have mercy, please,” she begs. “Do you want to please him, or no?” Dayeon nods weakly. “I-I do, b-but please let me do it at my own pace.” “Fine,” Seoyeon steps away from you and Dayeon, “continue, then.”

Dayeon turns her attention back to you. “W-water, please.” You grab a bottle that has some leftover water from yesterday. “Open your lips, cookie.” Once she opens her mouth, you guide the bottle towards her and help her take a sip. She finishes the water in one go, and unfortunately for her, that’s all you have. “Sorry, I haven’t refilled my water today.” She shakes her head. “I-it’s fine, I-I’ll manage.”

She starts stroking your cock, indicating that she’s ready to go again. “S-sorry, oppa, my gag reflex is so bad.” You rub her face gently. “Do you want to stop?” “B-but Seoyeon-ie said—” “Don’t worry about her,” you interrupt, “if you don’t consent, then we must stop.”

After thinking about it, Dayeon decides that she wants to stop right here and asks both your and Seoyeon’s consent to try again some other time. Seoyeon suggests inviting Dayeon to your apartment on Saturday night, which you have no problem with. “We’ll see you again on Saturday, Dayeon-ah.” “Y-yes, sir,” she says, “t-thank you for the opportunity.” You smile at her. “Now, get yourself tidied up and start working, please.”

While Dayeon gets herself sorted, Seoyeon extends the invitation to attend a monthly evaluation to her, mentioning how Dayeon’s experience might help the company make decisions about these trainees. “Yeah, I’ll be there—thanks for inviting me.” During the exchange, you see that Seoyeon is starting to soften up to Dayeon, which provides you with some much-needed relief.

It is when Dayeon exits your office that Seoyeon approaches you again. “I love you,” she says, “everything I do for you is out of love, oppa.” “I know, sweetie; I’m always thankful for you.” You and Seoyeon move towards each other at the same time for a kiss. “I’ll see you later, oppa.” “I’ll see you later too, sweetheart.”

The clock shows 4:00, which means that it’s time to go to that meeting that Seoyeon has prepared materials for.

“So, to remind you, we’ll be talking about some debut-related stuff with a bunch of people—the important things for this meeting are in this binder.” “Thank you, sweetheart,” you take the big binder from her hands. “You’re attending too, aren’t you?” Seoyeon laughs. “We both know you can’t go through the day without me.” You nod. “I know, sweetie, and that’s why I asked.”

Seoyeon wraps an arm around yours as you walk towards the meeting room with her. “I’m nervous, baby,” you say. “Honestly, same,” she replies, “believe me when I say that I'm glad I’m not the boss of this company.” “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll be joining me soon, Miss Yoon.” You try making a joke to suppress the nervousness.

You believe that you have valid reasons to be nervous; the future of this company depends on whether the 5-member group that’s going to debut in January next year succeeds. Not only that, but these 7 trainees who have been spending so much time training at your company are very hopeful about making the debut team—it’s going to be so damn painful for everyone when you announce the two trainees who won’t be debuting in January.

When you enter the room, Min Suhye and Min Suji, the dance and singing instructors respectively, are waiting for you. “Hey, guys,” you greet them, “how are you two doing?” Suji’s face lights up. “We’re doing very well; these trainees have been working really hard and really well recently.” Her words blow tenseness away from your mind. “Well, you guys deserve all the credits; you’ve been tireless with them.” Suji looks at her sister momentarily. “Yeah, actually, we’d like to take a bit of PTO next week or the week after.” You figure that they deserve some much-needed rest, so you agree to let them take leave, and in turn, let the trainees get some rest as well.

After a short wait, you’re joined by the choreographer and music production team. “Hi, hi,” the choreographer greets you, “sorry for being late; I had a discussion with Sihyeon-ie.” “Is she okay?” You ask because you care about these trainees and their instructors. “Yeah, yeah—she just had questions about some choreo details.” You’re glad to hear that people are as serious about this as you are; it would be difficult to proceed if someone were to lose motivation during this long process.

To not waste more time, you start today’s meeting. The production team plugs in their laptop to the speaker and projector, taking the first turn to “speak.” “Which one do you guys want to check out first?” You see on the big screen that there are demos titled A through D, each around 3 minutes long. “We’ll start from the top, okay?”

Demo A immediately catches your attention; it sounds fun and exciting with the uplifting beat, and the supposed chorus part has that banger factor (your opinion, not official production term). Demo B and C sound cute, but C in particular sounds quite generic. “Maybe we can include B as a B-side,” you think. Finally, you arrive at D, which sounds like another title track material. “A or D as title,” you write on your little note.

“I’d like to hear what everyone thinks about each demo,” you start the discussion. The instructor sisters love C but are worried about it coming off as boring, so they vote for D instead. Your beloved Seoyeon, on the other hand, thinks that A should be the title track, like you do. You’re glad that she’s of the same opinion, but you make sure that your face doesn’t show any sign of bias in front of these people.

“I think A is great,” says the choreographer, “we should be able to make a catchy choreo that sticks to people’s minds.” Before casting your vote, you ask what the production duo thinks. “When we were making these demos, we thought that maybe we could include C in the EP; I personally think that it’ll be a fun addition to it, you know.”

After a short discussion, it is decided that A and C will be in the debut EP: A is the title track while C is a B-side track; someone suggests putting C at the end of the play. “Yeah, sounds great,” says production, “we’ll be working on the lyrics soon.” You thank everyone for making the time for the meeting and sharing their opinions on the demos, earning smiles from each present. “I hope you guys remember that you guys are important to me and this company,” you say. You want to say that you’ll be giving them bonuses based on the group’s success but it’s probably best to keep it as a surprise.

Seoyeon approaches you after everyone has left. “Did I do well, sweetie?” She nods. “You always do well, but sometimes I wish you’d show more authority.” You scratch your chin as you think about her words. “I mean, I just wanted to listen to everyone’s opinions first.” She nods again. “Thankfully there wasn’t much disagreement today, but should it happen in the future, you’ll need to be able to take point, oppa.”

Someone’s knocking at the door, so Seoyeon makes her way towards it to check. “Oh, it’s you—come in.” Dayeon appears at the door with a plastic bag in her hands. “Erm, I bought some kimbap for you guys—I-I wanted to get donuts but I don’t know if you guys like sweet stuff.” “Thank you, Dayeon-ah; we were about to get food ourselves.” With a sheepish smile, Dayeon hands the bag over to Seoyeon, who doesn’t seem to be in the best mood, before leaving the meeting room.

“You alright, sweetie?” Seoyeon sighs. “Just wondering if giving her a second chance was a good idea.” “Sweetie,” you hold her soft hands in yours, “you know I would never cheat on you, right? I’ll make sure Dayeon doesn’t get too close to me.” She sighs once more. “Just… don’t leave me for her, please.” You assure her that such thing won’t happen; you love Seoyeon so much and don’t want to see her go.

“Oh, hi, Jihyun-ah—going somewhere?” You catch Jihyun, one of the two eldest trainees, leaving the training room. “D-director,” she’s visibly surprised to see you, “I-I was going to get some water for us.” Based on her sweaty forehead, you can tell that she’s been practicing hard. “I’ll get it for you; please return to the training room.” Jihyun seems reluctant to accept your offer, but she doesn’t dare argue. “Yes, director—thank you so much.”

You grab a box of bottled water from the storage and carry it towards the training room where the trainees are. “Good thing you’re fit,” Seoyeon quips. You chuckle. “I know, right.” As soon as you enter the training room, you’re met with bows and hellos from the trainees. “Hi, hi, hi,” you put on a kind smile for them, “Jihyun-ie said you guys needed some water, so here it is.”

You hand a bottle of water to Jihyun, who then passes it over to the other trainees until everyone has a bottle in their hands. You invite everyone to sit in a circle on the floor, and Sihyeon, the other eldest trainee, tries to get a chair for you. “That’s not necessary, Sihyeon-ah; I’m just your co-worker, not your dad,” you make a little joke, making her laugh a little. “Come, guys, let’s just sit on the floor.”

“So,” you start, “how’s everyone doing?” You make sure your tone is gentle in front of these exhausted trainees. “We’re fine for the most part, sir,” Jihyun answers on their behalf. “Most part, Jihyun-ah? Is there something wrong?” Jihyun reveals that Sunbin has been feeling some pain in her right calf because she didn’t stretch properly. “Are you okay now, though, Sunbin-ah?” Sunbin says that she’s feeling better after having applied some ointment on her calf, which brings relief to your heart. Sunbin is the youngest despite being of legal age and is also a big softie, so it stings to hear that she was in a bit of trouble.

“Director, director,” Sunwoo steals your attention. “I-if it’s okay with you, can we have some pizza and fried chicken, please?” You burst out laughing. “Of course you can, Sunwoo-yah—look, do your best for tonight’s evaluation, and I’ll buy each of you a box of fried chicken and two large pizzas to share; how about that?” Everyone’s face lights up as the room is filled with excited cheers—look, Soobin is beaming right now!

As trainees, dietary restrictions can be quite rough on them, so the fact that you’re agreeing to their request brings joy to their hearts. “Order for them, please—buy some for us as well,” you whisper to Seoyeon, who immediately pulls out her phone to order food.

You spend some more time talking with the trainees and are soon joined by the Min sisters and Dayeon, who are here for the evaluation, and everyone starts getting on their feet. “Girls, huddle, please,” you join them in the circle, “you are so close to debuting, and I know you guys have what it takes.” “Thank you, sir,” Jihyun says. “Fighting on three—one, two, three, fighting!”

You and Seoyeon take a seat at the big table with the Min sisters and Dayeon. “We’re ready when you are,” you say. “Good luck, everyone!” The song starts playing after everyone’s gotten to their positions—they’re doing a dance cover of tripleS’ Girls Capitalism, followed by a full cover of Kep1er’s Love on Lock right after.

You put on a serious face as the trainees go through the first cover and nail some important details from the original performers—shit, Sunbin seems to be in discomfort. “Pull through, Miss Jeon; c’mon, you can do this shit,” you say in your head, hoping that it’ll reach her. Your attention is stolen by Jihyun, however, as she steps closer towards the table to make a big impression on you and company. “Good job,” you mouth to her, drawing a small, proud smile on her face.

Sunbin immediately falls seated onto the floor after the cover is finished, scrunching her face because of the pain. You step away from the table to check up on her. “Are you okay, Sunbin-ah?” She nods weakly. “J-just my calf, director.” Jihyun passes you the ointment and you open the cap. “Excuse me, Sunbin-ah; I’ll help you apply some of this, okay?” Only when she nods do you start putting ointment on her leg. You then help her sit on a chair and return to yours. “You can sing your lines while sitting, Miss Jeon,” you say, “everyone else, please proceed as planned—eh, actually, drink some water first."

“You’re so kind to them, director,” Suhye makes a comment. “I don’t want to simply be a boss to them, Suhye-yah,” you reason. Suhye doesn’t say anything back, and you take it as a sign that she agrees with your approach.

The girls move to take their positions for the next cover, and Jihyun is the last person to get ready because she was still taking care of Sunbin. She seems to have also said something to her, and you hope that it was words of motivation or comfort.

The second song starts, so you shake your head to get rid of other thoughts in order to focus on the performance. It’s been smooth so far; Sunwoo and Daeun seem to be more immersed in this cover compared to the previous one—they must like this sort of song more. Jihyun, the always passionate one, is doing her best too, along with Hyeonju, Sihyeon, and Soobin.

Unfortunately, however, Sihyeon’s voice cracks a little, but she manages to stay focused and carry on. You and Seoyeon, in a moment of like-mindedness, quickly put up the OK sign to help assure her that she’s okay. Another thing to note is that Sunbin is giving absolutely everything despite being seated, showing everyone present her perseverance that is second-to-none, and at this point, the best choice of action seems to be debuting all 7 of them.

Once the performance finishes, you start a wave of claps, and in response, the trainees bow in respect and gratitude. “Well done, everyone,” you say, “now, I’ll have your instructors say their feedback.” “I’d like to start,” Dayeon says, so you let her do so. To your surprise, she leaves her seat and starts undressing, thus revealing her idol-like practice attire that consists of sports bra and compression shorts. “Wow, she came prepared,” you think. Apparently, you’re staring too much, proven by how Seoyeon pinches your thigh as punishment.

Dayeon gives Sihyeon some feedback and goes as far as showing examples, and the other trainees start replicating her, taking the guidance seriously. “I understand if you’re not too big on showing your curves, but it’s often necessary,” she adds. “Oh, and don’t forget to make eye contact even when you’re in the center.” After Sihyeon, Dayeon turns her attention to Soobin, who apparently was caught lacking.

“Soobin-ah, I want you to look at me and then compare my moves with yours, okay?” She does this piece of choreography like the pro she used to be—muscle memory goes crazy when it comes to dancers and athletes. Dayeon then tells Soobin to do the same and is quick to see the part that was not good in her eyes. “Right there, stop,” she says, “where’s the detail on that move, Miss Park?” Soobin repeats the piece once more, but she still doesn’t manage to satisfy Dayeon. “Oh, c’mon,” she’s getting heated, “stick your butt out some more when you’re doing those steps, Miss Park.” Soobin does the move again as instructed, and admittedly, that last try looks better. “There, that’s better,” she says, “remember the details, okay?”

Behind the standing ladies, Sunbin is looking at the floor, seemingly in low spirits. “Let’s talk to Sunbin-ie,” you say to Seoyeon, who follows closely behind you as you walk towards Sunbin. “Miss Jeon, how’s your leg?” “I-it doesn’t hurt as much anymore, director.” “Then follow us, please.”

Right as she’s stepping out of the training room, Sunbin starts crying. “P-please don’t fire me, director; I-I know I was wrong for not warming up correctly, but—” Her gust of tears interrupts her own words. Seoyeon promptly hugs Sunbin, making her gasp in surprise. “It’s okay, Sunbin-ah; accidents happen all the time,” she says, “please don’t cry, we’re not punishing you or anything.” “B-but—” Seoyeon doesn’t let her make a counterargument, placing a finger on her lips to stop her. “Just worry about your legs first, and then, I want you to remember this instance and warm up properly next time, okay?” Sunbin nods and hugs Seoyeon more tightly. “T-thank you so much, ma’am,” she says tearily.

Seoyeon falls onto bed as soon as you enter the bedroom with her after showering. “God, that was such a long day—it's helpful that dinner was very good.” “Thank you for sticking around until the end, love,” you don’t forget to express your gratitude. “That was me both as your secretary and your girlfriend, by the way.” “I know, love, and I’m thankful for you, like I always am.”

Your girlfriend gathers her might and moves to sit. “If you’re that thankful for me, surely you can do me a favor.” “Sure, baby,” you take a knee in front of the bed. “What can I do for you, baby?” “Why don’t you make me cum, hm?” You chuckle. “Yeah, I’d love to—I thought you were tired, though?” Seoyeon shakes her head. “We can pile on some more exhaustion so that we get better sleep.” “Sure, baby.”

You stand back up and stretch a little. “Wouldn’t want to pull a muscle like Sunbin-ie.” Your little joke makes her laugh. “She’s so cute, isn’t she?” “Yeah, that’s something I wouldn’t say—I don’t want to come across as creepy, you know.” Seoyeon pinches your forearm. “You should be more worried about me, if you catch what I’m saying.” “Oh, I know.” You’re getting impatient to start. “Are we ready to start, or no?”

Seoyeon pulls her T-shirt over her head and uses it to cover her body. “Are you okay, love?” “I don’t like this bra,” she says, “I don’t think I look good in it.” A few questions pop up in your head: which bra is this, why does she not like it, and what did she mean “I don’t look good in it,” because Seoyeon looks good in everything and nothing. “Can I look?” She shakes her head. “Turn around, oppa; let me take this off myself.”

You do as she asks and let her do her thing. “Here,” she hands the bra over. You see that it’s a nothing-out-of-ordinary sports bra. “What’s wrong with this, baby?” “It makes my breasts look flat, and I don’t like it—not when I’m trying to have you between my legs.” You scratch your head as you try to come up with something to say. “Baby, look,” you start, still wondering if it’s a good thing to say. “You are attractive, ‘kay? You don’t need to worry about looking flat or whatever, because respectfully, you are very hot.”

Your girlfriend beams and taps your face gently. “Congratulations, you passed the test,” she says. “Test? What do you mean?” “Ah, don’t worry about it, oppa; just know that it was the correct answer.” You’re speechless, unsure of what to make of this situation. “C’mon, oppa, touch me.”

You’re still stumped even after getting rid of your clothes. “Baby—” Your words are cut off when Seoyeon starts stroking you. “C’moooon,” she picks up the pace, “get hard and fuck me already.” It is when she thinks you’re properly hard that she lets go. “There you go—now please fuck me.”

You pretend like you’re about to kiss her, only to turn her around and have her bend over. You place a palm on her pussy to check if she’s really ready. “You can feel how wet I am, can’t you, daddy?” A mix of gasp and moan escapes her lips when you stick two fingers in her pussy. “I-I’m ready for you, daddy,” she states the obvious.

With your cock in hand, you slowly and gently ease it into her, earning a long moan from her until the entirety of your length is inside. “S-say something, daddy; t-tell me I’m good.” The way you’re bending forwards allows you to hold her tits and say words right into her ears without compromising your pace. “You’re always good, baby; I will never get tired of you,” you say, “you’re such a good person on the outside and a sexy lady on the inside—speaking of inside, you’re also so damn tight all the time.” “T-thank you, daddy,” she lets out a moan before continuing, “t-the way you tended to Sunbin-ie was a-attractive, you know.”

You laugh internally; you say what you said because Seoyeon wanted to be praised, but she mentions Sunbin in her reply. “This moment is ours, love; let’s not bring work to bed, hm?” Seoyeon nods slightly. “I-I’m sorry, daddy.”

As a gesture of accepting her apology, you start moving your hips faster to reach that sweet spot of a tempo. Seoyeon then straightens her back so that only her knees are on the bed, and you do the same in cooperation. “Fuck me like this, daddy.” “You love taking me deep, don’t you, baby?” “Oh, oh, yes, I do; I fucking love it when you’re hitting me deep.”

Seoyeon is active today, moving her hips downwards to meet your thrusts in the middle. You reach around and begin stimulating her nub, making her moan louder and faster. “Daddy, daddy,” she chants, “y-you’re going to make me cum.” “Yeah? Is that so?” Your speech is rather breathy at the moment. She turns her head to the side. “Kiss me, daddy.”

Seoyeon, after taking a few dozens of thrusts from you, suddenly slams her hips while screaming from the top of her lungs—poor girl didn’t have the chance to announce her orgasm because of how sudden and hard it hit her. At the same time, her walls are squeezing your shaft really hard.

You notice that she’s getting weak and threatening to tumble forwards, so you fasten your hold of her body to make sure she doesn’t go face first into the bed. “Great job, love—that must’ve felt good, right?” “A-amazing,” she answers weakly. “You’re also amazing, baby.” You send a barrage of kisses to the back of her head (because you don’t have access to her face) to make sure she knows that she’s appreciated.

“D-daddy,” Seoyeon captures your attention again. “C-cum in me, please.” “Gladly, baby—here I go, okay?”

You start off slowly, savoring your girlfriend’s tightness and warmth to the max since you were busy being fast on her earlier. “I love you, baby; I love you so, so much.” “I love you more, daddy—oh, yes, daddy.” You ask if she can help you get closer to orgasm by grinding her hips against yours, and she does just as you ask. “Oh, you’re amazing, baby; you’re always so fucking amazing.”

With a grunt, you release semen into her core, filling her to the brim and earning a very sexy moan from Seoyeon, who immediately falls onto the bed as soon as you let go of her torso. You slowly retreat from her pussy while placing a hand underneath to catch the excess cum. “Oh, you’re holding it in—good work, baby.” “I-I don’t waste your cum ever, do I?” You peck her in the forehead after flipping her over. “That’s true,” you say.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #male reader smut #smut #triples smut

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mjlovescm · 6 months ago

Text

Everything on your wish list, Spencer Reid

A/n: trying new tagging systems so ig this is Boyfriend!Spencer x black!fem!reader

You and Spencer both had complicated connections to holidays. Growing up with complicated families, this time of year was always hard.

Before his father left, Spencer remembered his mom reading books to him before bed on Santa Claus and polar bears. As a logical child, he didn't truly believe in the large man up north. His father would leave presents under the tree. But being a “busy” man, he never had time to understand what a boy like Spencer would want. Or wrap any of his clearly thoughtful gifts.

As friends, you could always count on one another for something small and sentimental. You often giving Spencer signed books or classics. While he was one to pay attention to the little details. And with an eidetic memory, that was easy to do.

But with this being your first Christmas together, Spencer wanted to make sure he made it a good one. Starting with flashy matching sweaters that Spencer refused to call ugly. And decorations, leaving his apartment covered in colorful lights. The only thing that was left were your presents. And with Garcia's help, Spencer made sure he got you everything you wanted.

“Could you bring me more tape ?”

Spencer asked as he cut a long strip of red ribbon. He was insistent on adding bows to each of the already wrapped boxes. That and a personally signed noted. With a smile and a small “sure” you left the living room before quickly returning with the tape. But once you caught a better look at Spencer's Christmas tree, you were shocked.

Boxes upon boxes of varying sizes, all wrapped and all with bows atop them. And those weren't the only ones. The bowless gifts were sitting on the coffee table, in front of him.

“Spencer you know Christmas is in a few days right. You need to drop these off before it's too late. I thought you already dropped off everyone's gifts?”

He looks away sheepishly, unsure what to say.

“I have.”

Confused, your eyebrows pulled together.

“So whose gifts are these?”

He hesitates before answering. Taking a seat beside him on Spencer's couch, you pick up a cookie and took a bite. Humming at the sweet taste and warm, soft, certainly somewhat under done center.

“Yours.” he says with a small shrug, trying to ease you into the idea.

But you weren't quite catching onto what your boyfriend was suggesting.

“You mean ours ?”

He shakes his head, continuing to tie bows on boxes.

“Just yours.”

You continued to eat your tree shaped cookie as you looked over the boxes.

“All of them are mine? Like all of them.”

He nods and smiles sweetly.

“Merry Christmas.”

He looks beyond proud of himself. Excited even. It's so cute. The way his brown eyes and pink dusted face lights up. You could practically see the Christmas spirit in his eyes. The love for making people feel seen in the form of hand wrapped gifts and handwritten cards.

“Spencer, there's no way I had that many things on my wishlist. I can't even think of that many things that I want.”

When you spoke about gift giving, you agreed on a list. Naturally, both of you wanted to give the other a few things as genuine surprises. But this was far more than a few things. The corner of Spencer's living room with his unique and hefty decorated tree was backed with boxes. The large red tree skirt was overwhelmed, leaving only slivers of the bright fabric to be seen.

“You mentioned some things, and Garcia offered to helped me.”

Confused, you gave Spencer an uncertain look. Help from Garcia could mean a multitude of things. Legal and illegal. Though you knew she meant good, she wasn't one to shy away from doing things her way.

“Is this one of those prank gift things? Am I going to open the boxes, and they're empty ?”

Spencer wasn't one for cruel pranks. But from time to time him and Garcia would attempt it.

He shook his head.

“All the boxes are full.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

You stood and walked to the tree, unsure how much you believed Spencer and his plush Christmas tree.

“So you wouldn't mind if I open a few gifts.”

You weren't being entirely serious but now more than ever

you were genuinely curious to see what he'd gotten you. And how much you'd have to spend to compete with it.

“Normally people open one gift on Christmas Eve, but we can make a new tradition.”

Spencer picks one up. It was one of the smaller ones, wrapped with red paper and tied with a white bow.

“Here, open this one today.”

“Why this one ? What's inside it ?”

Your skepticism was hard to hide.

“If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise.” Spencer said matter-of-factly, yet there was a softness to his words.

You took the gift from Spencer. Both of you taking a seat by the tree and other boxes. You open the present and quickly found that Spencer was telling the truth. It was perfume, a designer perfume you'd had when you were younger. Something your mother had passed down to you.

You hadn't seen the brand in years. Nor the large bottle. The one you'd shared with your mom was smaller. Less than half what Spencer had bought you. And engraved in the glass was your name.

“Merry Christmas.” Spencer whispered with a small smile.

You were silent for a moment, taking it in.

“How did you-”

He explained how he'd remembered you talking about the perfume a few times. Originally, he'd gone to a few stores and malls himself to search for it. But after not finding it, he'd called Garcia for back up. Within the hour, she was able to find a few resellers online. That and haggle them on the price.

“Wait, so all of these are really my gifts?”

“Why wouldn't they be ?”

My full masterlist

Holiday shopping with sugar daddy Spencer 🛍️💳

Being with Spencer means getting lover letters on the regular

Illicit affairs

#christmas #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #black reader #spencer reid x black!reader #black girl imagines #black girl fluff #spencer reid fluff #mjlovescm #black fem reader fluff #black fem reader #christmas fluff

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godmadeaterribleerror · 30 days ago

Text

Spinning Around - A Babylon the Great Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Request from dioscockslut on a03! All time fluff chapter (I'm planning something evil). Also the lovely thing about not being paid for this is that I can make Dean go through a Wendy’s drive-thru.

Chapter title from Leave The Light On by Bleach Lab

Word Count: 2.9k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You, Dean, and allegedly Sam go to the movies. Takes place between Chapter 19 and Chapter 20. Usual warnings.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst, fluff

Read on A03!

Sam’s lucky he has one of the least punchable faces in the world. That he has big puppy-eyes and the energy of a sad orphan in the rain.

Otherwise, you’d lure him to the highest building you could find, and push him off the roof.

He’s supposed to be the last line of defense between you and feelings. The barrier between your love for Dean, and the fact that Dean’s not supposed to know you love him. Sam’s supposed to be there on cases so that you can swallow the urge kiss Dean on his stupid, pretty face every time he so much as grins at you. He’s supposed to serve as a reminder that this isn’t about you, it’s about the sake of humanity.

Humanity doesn’t need you to crash into Dean and all his Gold. Sam doesn’t need to watch you gape at his brother while there are people dying.

It’s not supposes to affect work. Loving Dean isn’t supposed to affect work.

Sam makes sure it doesn’t. If Sam’s there—even on a rare day off—he can pull you into a conversation about lore or a book, and you can pretend you’re not staring at Dean while he and Jo play pool. Then Jo can catch your eye and wink—sometimes she points between you and makes a gesture that makes you flush and short-circuit—and you can force your attention back to Sam.

Can’t think about how much you love Dean when you’re looking Sam in the eyes. Can’t think about how you want to crawl into Dean’s lap when Sam’s right there.

Sam’s supposed to stay there. Where you can see him.

But he’s a little goddamn traitor.

This was his fucking idea. Sam stood up suddenly and shouted that he wanted to see a movie. Sam said c’mon, guys, we might never have the time to do this again. Fucking Sam promised to pay for the tickets and snacks—with stolen money, but about 90% of all your collective net worths is stolen, so who cares—and to take responsibly if Bobby called you missed it.

Dean had been scowling at the road the whole drive, his voice a barely audible grumble. “If I wanted to watch a movie, I’d turn on the freakin’ TV, Sammy-“

“Dude, you sound like you’re an old man-“

“I do not-“

“Yeah, you do.” Sam had said your name, twisting in his seat to hold your gaze. “You want to go see the movie, right?”

“I mean,” you’d shrugged. “I don’t really care.”

Sam had sighed, and Dean had grinned at you in the rearview mirror.

“That’s my girl. Fuckin’ take that, bitch.”

His girl.

It’s a good thing Sam had only rolled his eyes and kept talking to you about how you’d like the movie—he’s been oddly dedicated to making sure you were on board—or else you might have audibly moaned.

“The leads are women.” He’d pitched, and you’d given him a flat look.

“And?”

“There’s, uh, not a lot of female led horror movies-“

“Why should I care about that?”

Sam had blinked at you. “I- Uh- You’re a woman-“

“I am?!” You’d gaped at him, and Dean had snorted. “Why did nobody tell me?”

“We thought you knew, sweetheart.” Dean had drawled, and Sam had slumped back into his seat with a sigh.

“No, I thought these were for decoration.” You’d frowned down at your boobs, pushing them up slightly, and the car had jerked slightly to the side.

Dean had coughed. “Sorry, uh-“

“You guys suck.” Sam had muttered, giving you one last pleading expression. “The movie theater will have lots of candy, you can get whatever you want-“

You’d scoffed. “We are not paying for movie theater candy. We’re buying it at a gas station then smuggling it in our bags, like real Americas.”

Dean had raised his brows. “You feeling patriotic, Princess?”

“I’m always patriotic, Deano. No theater snacks.”

“So…” Sam had looked between you and Dean with a hopeful expression. “You guys are in? On the movie?”

Dean had looked to you, and you’d sighed.

“Yeah. We’re in.”

“Great.” Sam had relaxed into his chair, grinning ahead at the road. “That’s really great. This is going to be fun, guys, I promise.”

“Sure. If you like cheap knockoffs of real life- Ow.”

You’d whacked Dean’s arm, and he’d only glared at you in the mirror. You’d held his gaze with a challenging look, and he’d sighed and shaken his head.

“It’ll be awesome, Sammy.” He’d grumbled, and you’d wanted to kiss the grumpy little pout of his lips. “But I want some freakin’ popcorn.”

“Uh,” Sam had mumbled your name. “Can we get popcorn at the store-“

“We’ll get it at the theater.” You’d shrugged, and the Spiderweb had fucking glowed when Dean’s grin had spread too wide and boyish.

It had stayed that way, for the rest of the ride. When you’d gotten the snacks and tossed him some jerky, and he’d stood a little too close to you at the check-out counter. He’d been grinning the whole time you were getting the tickets, and when you’d gotten the massive bucket of popcorn now in his lap, and when the trailers had started playing and he’d whispered jokes into your ear.

Then fucking Sam had betrayed you. He’d poked your arm and you’d glanced over to see him giving you an apologetic expression.

“No-“

“Jo needs my help.” He’d whispered, and you’d narrowed your eyes.

“Then I’ll go. Jo and I can hunt together blindfolded-“

“Uh- It’s only something I can help with.”

“Really.”

He’d rubbed the back of his neck, not fully meeting your eyes. “Yeah.”

“Samuel Winchester-“

“Enjoy the movie. Just- Uh- Keep your phone on and we’ll call you if we need help-“

“How are you getting there-“

“Jo’s picking me up. Bye.”

He’d stood up and shuffled away before you could grab him and force him to stay, he’s the buffer, if he doesn’t stay you’re going to kiss Dean again and that’s against the rules-

“Where the hell is he going?” Dean had said, and you’d taken a long, deep breath.

“Jo needs help.”

“Shit.” Dean had glanced at his popcorn. “Do, uh- Are we supposed to be going too?”

He’d been almost pouting again. And his grin had been so big when he’d gotten his stupid popcorn, and his thigh was pressed right against yours in the small seat, and where your shoulders keep bumping there were little stains of Gold all over you, and-

Fuck it.

“No, he’ll call us.” You’d settled into your seat, and Dean had nodded slowly.

“Alright. Awesome. You want some popcorn?”

“I’m okay, De. Thank you.”

He’d grunted, and you were okay.

Are okay.

You’re really good.

The movie is fine. Dean was right before about knockoffs of real life—it’s hard to take most horror movies seriously, when you know that it’s a case that would only take an afternoon to sort out—but it’s still enjoyable. The soundtrack is good, and the acting is fine, and you’re giggling a lot more than you probably should be when the demon girl starts eating men, but Dean gives you an amused look and leans down to whisper in your ear, so you’re good.

“You’re finding guys dying real amusing, Princess.”

You shrug, and grin at him in the dark. “Oops.”

He snorts and shakes his head, and you can’t stop smiling. It’s good it’s dark in here, otherwise you’d look like a lovesick idiot. And it doesn’t help how when Dean stretches his arm ends up over your chair, his fingers resting lightly near the bare skin of your collarbone. And when you shift in your seat to drop your head on his shoulder, he doesn’t shove you away. When you poke his thigh and look up at him with hopeful eyes, he chuckles and angles the popcorn bucket in your direction.

He’s so warm. And the theater isn’t exactly heated, and you’re so tired. If Sam hadn’t insisted on doing this, you would’ve probably taken a warm shower and gone to bed early. But Dean’s heartbeat is a little too close to your ears is more soothing than water—it means he’s alive, and next to you, and you can touch him and hear him and not choke on the air because Dean’s alive—and he’s Golden all around you, and he’s got you. He’s always got you.

You love him.

He smells like cinnamon.

And the theater is dark and Dean’s warm and-

“Princess.”

You hum, shifting until your face is buried in his chest, and Dean’s low laugh sends a soft rush of light through the Spiderweb.

“We gotta get up,” he mutters, and you can feel his fingers tangled at the base of your hair. Tugging on it slightly for your attention. “Movie’s over. You feel asleep.”

But you’re comfortable.

Dean says your name with a soft tone, and you let out a grumbling moan.

“Don’t wanna.”

He laughs again, but it’s a little more hoarse than before. “I know. C’mon. Eyes open.”

You sigh, and twist to blink up at him with a slight pout. “You suck.”

“Know that too, Princess.” He shifts around you, one arm hooking under yours to tug you to your feet. “Let’s go.”

Dean’s hand is resting on your lower back. And you haven’t stopped moving and doing things for maybe ever, and Dean’s right here and warm, and-

“Keep walking,” He mutters near your ear. “Once we’re outside I’ll get you to the car.”

You’re not sure what that means, but you listen. Let Dean guide you forward and leaning into his touch, your head too fogged with sleep to be able to think any better. The Silver is humming easily under your skin, and the Spiderweb is flowing peacefully and casting around your body. Dean’s here. With you. Alive and still talking.

He’s probably trying to keep you awake.

It’s not a great strategy. His voice is a little like a drug, shooting into your veins and making you fall further and further into his gravity.

Really, the only thing keeping you awake is sheer fucking willpower to not collapse in front of him.

“You wanna get Sammy back for ditching us?” Dean asks, and you lean back to meet his gaze.

He’s so pretty. You might have loved him before you even knew him—or maybe you’ve just always known him—because when you look into his eyes, there are tiny bits of his Gold pouring through, and it looks like home.

“I think I’m good.” You whisper, and Dean nods slowly, his gaze locked on yours.

“Yeah, uh- I think I’m good too.” He clears his throat, pushing open the door to the parking lot. “You want to get dinner and not bring him any back?”

“Dean-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He’s folding himself over you. Blocking you from the wind. “He can have whatever’s at the top of the menu, and he’s gonna be happy about it.”

You hum, turning your face so your cheek is pressed near Dean’s neck. “What if it’s dino nuggets.”

“Sammy loves dino nuggets-“

“He’s gonna think you’re making fun of him.”

“Good. He’s lucky I don’t kick his ass.”

The last words are muttered under his breath, and before you can frown up at him and ask what that means, Dean scoops you fully up into his arms and the world goes technicolor.

This is going to kill you. Being surrounded by Dean and bathing in him. Having him place you so gently onto the bench of the Impala before he moves around to the driver’s seat, and pulls your right back into his side.

“You sleepy, Princess?” He’s teasing you. You’re a little too high on just his proximity—Jesus, you need to get a fucking grip—to care.

“No ‘m not.”

“Alright, ba-“ He coughs, and the engine rumbles around you. “You look kinda sleepy. Closed eyes and all-“

You make a grumbling sound, and Dean just laughs.

He’s still grinning, when you tilt your head to blink up at him. He’s smiling at the road as if nothing’s wrong in the world. And you can feel it. Critical to your body and just to the right of your heart, singing like a hymn along the Spiderweb and all made of Dean. Handsome in the shifting lights of the sunset—casting long shadows that make his features sharper and golden lights that make him look like he’s glowing—and in this moment, yours.

Not really. Not all the time. Not embedded in you like you are in him, but still Golden and painted all over your skin, and one level a little deeper.

You must have always loved him.

You can’t imagine a universe where you don’t.

“You don’t suck, De.” You whisper, and he raises his brows at the road.

“Alright, sweetheart.”

“You don’t. You carried me to car-“

“And I’m gonna carry you inside, too. You’re tired,” Dean hums your name, and it’s probably for the best he’s not looking at you. The no love on your face rule is almost certainly being broken, “We’re gonna get Wendy’s, then you’re goin’ to bed.”

“Okay.” You twist your face to press into his arm, your words muffled in his jacket. “You don’t suck.”

Dean sighs. “I heard you the first time-“

“You’re my best friend.” You mumble, and that’s fine to say. You’re not breaking any rules by telling him that, and you’re hitting the point of exhaustion where you can’t control your words anyway. “And you’re the best person I know.”

“Best man?” He asks, and he’s teasing again, but his voice might be softer than before. Almost a rasp. “Not best person?”

“Jo’s better.”

Dean chuckles. “You’re wounding me, Princess-“

“Fine. Best person.”

“Wow, I’m telling Jo-“

“Shut up.”

“So bossy.” There’s a second of silence, and the hum of the engine and sound of Dean’s heartbeat are starting to lure you right back down.

It’s safe to sleep here. Against Dean.

You could probably stay here for a million years, and there would be nowhere better in the universe.

Dean clears his throat, and you can’t really hear him, but it’s still Dean’s voice, so you cling to every word like it’s flower, blooming right into your hands.

“You’re my best friend too.” He mutters your name, and suddenly there’s a comfortable weight over your shoulders, and the sound of his heartbeat is louder. “And the best person I know. It ain’t even close. I’d do- son of a bitch, I’d do a lot of messed up shit for you, ba- Sweetheart.”

You hum, wigging a little close into his side. You’re really not sure what he said.

You just know it sounded right. Just like every other part of him.

“You’re warm.” You mumble, and Dean lets out a long, slow sigh.

“Yeah, I know.” A big, warm hand tangles in your hair, and maybe this can be the rest of your life. “Go to sleep, Princess.”

It’s not immediate. You drift in and out of it, for the rest of the car ride. There are hay memories of the drive-thru—a chicken sandwich for Sam, spicy nuggets for you and Jo, and two baconaters for Dean because he needs one for later—and a lot of burry pictures of Dean above you, humming along to whatever he’s playing on the radio. But all you can really feel is safe. He’s here. Holding you to his side and Golden. And when the car finally parks—you don’t remember the motel being that far away, but maybe the Wendy’s was—you don’t even get a chance to try and stumble to your own feet. Dean’s faster, and you’re still half-asleep, and before you know what’s happening you’re back in his arms and being carried inside.

You can see Jo and Sam grinning at you from the table, the moment Dean marches inside. Wearing matching shit-eating grins.

If you can remember, in the morning, they’re going to get stabbed.

“How was the movie?” Jo’s voice is almost bubbly, and you flip Her off over Dean’s shoulder.

You don’t get a chance to snap back, though, before Dean’s laying you down on the bed. Helping you out of your shoes and jacket without a glance to Jo and Sam, then pulling the covers over your body.

“De,” you grab his wrist before he can move away, your eyelids around drooping. “‘m tired-“

“I know, Princess.” Calloused fingers brush over your brow, and you can hear him shifting slightly near you, until you’re half curled around him, and he’s settled on the edge of the mattress. “Sleep. I’ve got you.”

He’s got you.

Dean’s got you. And he’s not going anywhere. You can hear him exchanging low words with Sam and Jo, but he’s not moving from your side. His hand is even softly petting your head, and you’re not sure he’s doing it at all and-

Sleep hits you fast. And even as the last wave of it crashes over you and pulls you under, you know.

Dean’s still here. And you love him. When you wake up, you’ll love him. When the earth splits open or the Sky falls down, you’ll love him. Your heart could be ripped out of your chest and ground into the mud, and you’d still love Dean.

It’s the right thing to do. The only thing to do.

He’s Golden, and he’s got you, and whether it’s always this peace or an intolerable pain, you’ll always love Dean.

End Note: Sam cackling to himself as he drives away. His trap worked.

Thank you so so so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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