#the slightest sprinkling of smut

[lakefu]

A Perfect Warmth 🕯️

Summary: Astarion and Tav take a well deserved break away form the chaos of their adventures at an inn inside Baldur's Gate. They need to clean up and get back on the road but they keep getting distracted. Perhaps plans could be delayed for a night of passion...

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Tags: 18+, Explicit, fluffy smut, brief Astarion trauma response, PIV, erogenous elf ears, scent kink, blood + biting, a bit of praise, a bit of edging... a sprinkle of cockwarming...., these guys are in love...

Word count: 3.5k Note: This was my first fic originally uploaded on Ao3 on 11/27/23, inspired by the patch #4 dev note mentioning adding sponges to clean your companions. I've made edits from the Ao3 post.

“Remind me to sell this junk next time we pass by a merchant, would you dear?” Astarion was seated at the edge of the bed and rummaging through his traveler’s pack, placing various items on the nightstand for further examination. Two silver forks, an old necklace, and a handful of various polished stones ended up on the table before he plucked out an intricate sapphire ring and held it up to the sunlight peeking through the window.

“Good taste,” he muttered to himself. He placed the ring on his pinky finger in amusement and resumed the scavenge. 

“It’s going to get difficult sneaking up on people if I have to lug this heavy thing around you know.” He threw over a glance at Tav, who was preoccupied with gathering laundry together in preparation for the next day.

“It wouldn’t be so heavy if you didn’t pocket nearly every shiny thing we came across,” she teased, without even looking over at him.

He gasped dramatically. “Framed by my own lover? Quite the scandal. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the near dozen times you’ve asked me to hold onto your things because your own pack was too full.”

“Hmm. Maybe. I guess that might sound sort of familiar…” She giggled to herself and walked into the bedroom to catch his eye, meeting him with a mischievous grin. 

“Why are you such a- oh! Now, what’s this you’re wearing?” Astarion blinked and scanned her up and down, clearly enthralled by the wardrobe change. She stood there in an old linen robe that was yellowed with age, definitely unlike anything he had ever seen her in before.

“Just some old thing I found in the dresser here, isn’t it just fabulous?” Tav's words were dripping in sarcasm and yet she smiled, performing a grandiose little spin in the middle of the room as if she was wearing the most beautiful ball gown in the world.

“I… it’s just so different from your usual armor or that drow nightwear you fancy so much. You look so… domestic.” His eyes were locked onto Tav intensely, with brow furrowed as he seemed to be confused by his own words.

She felt her heart skip a beat and a flush run to her face.

“And you think that’s a good look for me?”

His eyes softened and he paused a moment before quietly answering.

“Yes… I do.”

Tav watched as his smile faded and the gaze of his eyes became increasingly more distant. The atmosphere seemed to shift and a slight panic ran through her body. Did she do something wrong? No... and it didn’t require a tadpole connection to get an understanding for what had brought down his spirits.

Astarion hadn’t considered a comfortable domestic life was possible for someone like him. Even the slightest concept of such a thing had been buried for over a hundred years, and he never expected it to resurface. Was he worthy of such a thing, and was it even possible? 

Oh, it was possible. The evidence was standing right in front of him, spinning circles in an ugly bathrobe. He could see glimpses of a happy future that was so close to being a reality he nearly felt nauseous. Not because he was unsure of himself, but because there were still too many unresolved matters they had a duty to attend to. Too many missions and stupid little quests that could now go wrong and threaten this idea of a happy ending he never even knew was possible.

Everything was different now that he realized what was possible, and he suddenly felt an unknown and uncomfortable pressure. All he knew was that he couldn’t afford to lose in the upcoming battles. Battles that some would say were impossible, suicidal even. The thought of loss at this point was beyond unbearable. It was sickening just to think about.

“Hey!!” Tav ran up to where he was sitting on the bed and took his head in her hands. She placed a delicate kiss on his forehead, knowing she had to get him focused on something else.

“Why don’t we go to the shop right now and get rid of that stuff,” she motioned to the collection of items that had been gathered on the nightstand.

“Wouldn’t hurt to get some more coin in our pockets, right?” She looked at him expectantly and felt a huge relief as a light seemed to return to his eye and meet her view.

“Please tell me you aren’t going to wear that horrid robe to see the merchant,” he sighed and looked up at her pleadingly.

“Of course not!! I’ll change and- oh gods!!! We’ve got to get this blood off your face, the merchant is going to think we are trying to kill him!” Tav exclaimed as she lightly shook his shoulders, and quickly began examining his body to see how much cleaning would have to get done before they could leave.

“Blood… on my face?” He raised an eyebrow and brought a finger to his cheek.

“Yeah!! Well, it’s all over you really, dontcha remember earlier today, fighting those cultists?? You sneaked up behind one of ‘em and BAM!!! Just obliterated with a single strike, it was amazing!! You’re so strong…you know.” Her pulse was racing at the mere memory of the event as she delicately traced the side of his face with her fingers and ventured down to his chest. 

“Ah of course. That was all so terribly easy I’d nearly forgotten,” he said proudly, adjusting his posture and keeping his eyes on Tav’s hand movements sliding across his chest. Her soft touch was becoming more firm as her fingers made their way toward his arms, giving his biceps a teasing squeeze before leaning her face into his and teasing a kiss.

Before their lips could touch, Astarion wags a finger in between their faces as if to remind Tav of the task at hand.

“Alright my sweet, let’s clean up shall we? You’re my mirror after all. So, go on then.” He took her hands into his own and gave them a kiss before placing them back at her side, encouraging her to go and gather whatever it was she needed to get him cleaned up.

Right, the supplies. It was nearly impossible to remain focused after moments of intimacy with him, no matter how brief they were. She quickly moved into the other room to acquire the washcloths and bucket of soapy water that she was using for herself not too long ago. Hands full, she scurried back to the bedroom to meet her lover, who hadn’t moved an inch.

As she approached him, Tav could feel the tie on her robe becoming increasingly more loose with each step that was taken across the floor. The embarrassment hit her as she realized she didn't have any hands free to do anything about it. She quickly tried to put the bucket down by the bedside, but the bending movement only resulted in the robe slipping off one of her shoulders, exposing a bare breast.

“Oh? You haven’t got anything on underneath?” Astarion cocked his head in amusement, eyes unmoving from the newly exposed skin.

“Ye-yeah that’s the whole point of robes isn’t it? I was doing laundry earlier ya know and umm,” She laughed nervously and started to fix the wardrobe malfunction but was quickly stopped by a hand over her own. Astarion reached out toward her until both hands were around her waist and pulled her in close to his body. Fangs were peeking through his devious smile while determined eyes looked her up and down. With a singular finger he crept over to the loose knot of the robe’s tie and flicked it completely undone with one swift movement.

Tav shuddered and felt her body starting to run warm despite now being suddenly exposed to the cool air of the inn. She was completely revealed to him now, the robe only just clinging to her arms and draped across her backside.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he sighed and began kissing her stomach and caressing the curves of her waist. “Come here.”

Tav gasped as she felt his cold grip around her waist tighten as he expertly lifted her up onto his lap with ease. Pleased at the new angle, Astarion shifted his attention to kissing the crook of her neck and started moving down her chest. He delightfully found her nipple with his mouth in no time, and teased it in circles with his tongue just as he knew she liked it. His gentle sucking continued for only a few brief moments before he suddenly withdrew and cleared his throat.

“Ah, well. You can reach my face better up here I’m sure. For the cleaning of course,” he said smugly. The elf leaned back and admired the view of his lover, nude and flustered, perched oh-so perfectly on top of him.

“The cleaning…” Tav nodded and remembered she still had a warm and soapy washcloth in her hand. The urge to throw the stupid cloth into some unknown corner of the room was nearly undeniable. All she wanted in this moment was for him to take her completely, in any way he wanted, it didn’t matter as long as she ended up getting fucked into oblivion. So fine. On with the cleaning.

She raised the washcloth to his temple and slowly began to wipe away the dried blood by working down his face. His cheeks were a bit sunken as usual but flushed adorably in this moment, clearly enjoying the tender rubs of cloth on his skin. She continued rubbing down toward his chiseled jawline, across to his lips, and back up the other side to repeat the process once more. She ran her fingers through his silver curls and noticed his ears would need cleaning too. 

One hand caressed the pointy ear to keep it in place and the other brought the washcloth in for a gentle scrub. A quiet moan suddenly escaped the vampire’s lips.

Oh? She had seemingly discovered a sensitive spot and noted that she would have to continue her work carefully. The scrubbing continued but Tav couldn’t keep her eyes off his face now. His eyes were closed but still noticeably moving behind their lids, and his lips were slightly parted with his breathing becoming increasingly heavier and more noticeable. 

Astarion was in his own world of pleasure. What in the hells had he been doing these past weeks, aimlessly scrubbing himself clean alone in the river when they could have been doing this the whole time instead?

He opened his eyes just to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. She was still there of course, diligently and lovingly taking such good care of his body. A wave of maddening lust rushed through his core and he needed her closer. He needed her as close as physically possible and even more so after that.

Their eyes met, revealing intense desires. Tav lowered her hands and she spoke slowly, “Can you take your shirt off? There’s a spot I can’t get to with it on…” 

She wasn’t fooling anybody, but he obeyed without hesitation. The shirt was gone in seconds, revealing his pale and perfectly sculpted chest. It was a sight that Tav never tired of admiring, and was in fact the subject of distracting daydreams on the daily. She shifted her body closer to his and continued scrubbing his neck and chest, despite it becoming increasingly more difficult to focus. Deep breaths.

She had always been fond of his cologne that he was quite proud of concocting himself. The scent of aged brandy, bergamot, and rosemary was now forever an Astarion specialty that she could never forget. Even during times of battle or travel, a gust of wind could carry his essence to her and bring along with it a sense of reassuring familiarity. As she continued to wipe him down, however, a different scent began to come to the forefront.

It was something that did not seem completely foreign, but it wasn't immediately identifiable either. There was something about taking it all in that felt forbidden. Tav tried to pinpoint what she was experiencing. He smelled earthy… raw… unnatural… it was without a doubt, the undeath.

An undeniable heat rose through her body as she engulfed herself with this pure scent from her lover. The washcloth, the bed, the entire room seemed miles away, and nothing felt coherent except for a craving to be even closer to him. Nothing else existed except their bodies and her overwhelming desire to-

“Eager, are we?” A sultry voice snapped her back into reality, where piercing red eyes amusingly greeted her return. She suddenly became aware of a presence between her thighs and glanced down, realizing she was sitting atop a clothed bulge. His hands had a firm grip on her backside and his encouraging movements made it clear she had been absentmindedly grinding on him during her trance. 

“Shit, I got carried away…” She hadn’t taken her eyes off his crotch and began to notice that her excitement had left a dampness on his clothes. Embarrassment nearly overtook her, but a gentle yet confident hand grabbed her chin and brought it up to meet his gaze. He leaned into her with a grinning open mouth and kissed her passionately, tongues intertwining.

She felt his fangs briefly scrape against her tongue every so often until a metallic taste became increasingly noticeable. She didn't mind the blood, especially since it seemed to enhance his arousal as noted by his hips continuously jolting faster up into her exposed crotch. Tav was soon pleasantly overwhelmed between his deep kisses and desperate hands groping her at every curve of her body. She longed to give him everything; her blood for his hunger, her body for his pleasure. 

Tav released herself from the kiss they had been locked into and tilted her head so that her neck became exposed as an undeniable gift. His mouth lunged at the presented spot as soon as it was noticed, fangs immediately sinking in deep. Tav cried out at the initial impact but soon was reveling in the experience. It was a perfect mixture of pain and pleasure that she was only capable of experiencing from him.

He remained on her neck for a while, still tightly holding on to her body and keeping one hand free to reassuringly caress the back of her head. It was only after the blood flow slowed to a near stop did he cease his medley of licking and sucking at the wound. Blood dripped down his chin and onto his exposed chest, but he was ultimately unfazed. He leaned back, clearly happy and mostly satisfied, but there was still a different type of satisfaction he had left to chase.

Astarion's throbbing erection was begging to be released from its clothed restraints. He quickly untied his pants and shifted his underwear to finally free it. He moaned a few incomprehensible words of relief and stroked himself a few times before looking up at Tav for approval.

Tav had been staring at his length from the moment it was exposed, an impressive size for an elf, no doubt. Her eyes fixated on his perfectly pink tip, glistening with precum just for her. She immediately fantasized of shoving him down her throat until she choked and cried, but that was a fantasy for another day. In their current position, they both knew there was only one simple way of how to continue.

“Astarion,” she whimpered. “Fuck me.”

Tav sat up on her knees and positioned herself so that her entrance was just nearly grazing the head of his dick, ready to take him in completely at any moment. She grabbed ahold of his shaft and guided the tip back and forth through her folds until he was covered in her slick. The new sensation of the friction between them left them both gasping and desperate for more.

Suddenly, finally, his arms wrapped around her body as he pulled her down onto him with one firm motion. Astarion grunted through his teeth while Tav moaned unapologetically, focusing on relaxing enough to allow her body to adjust to his length inside of her. 

The temperature differences between their bodies only heightened the feelings of pleasure whenever they became one. Her warmness was intoxicating to him, granting a sense of safety and bliss that was impossible to achieve anywhere else. He was already so close to the edge in this moment, but was not ready to give in just yet. He wanted this moment of heaven to last as long as possible.

Meanwhile, Tav was having the time of her life riding her man like there was no tomorrow. She had no intent to slow down until a pair of large hands suddenly gripped her hips in a way that prevented any further movement.

“I’m not done with you yet, love. Didn’t you notice the mess I’ve made after feasting on you?” Astarion took a finger to his chin and smeared a bit of Tav’s fresh blood down his neck.

It was true, he had made a mess. Quite uncharacteristically of him in fact. Tav had assumed he had simply gotten careless in his horny and feral craze but no- it was clearly all calculated. 

“Just be still and sit nice and pretty on my cock. Finish the cleaning, then I’ll take care of you myself. How does that sound?” 

How does that sound? His words echoed in her head, which was already spinning plenty enough as it was. She was unsure if it was from the blood loss or her seemingly never ending carnal desires, but perhaps it was both. One thing was certain, however, he could convince her to do damn near anything speaking in that low and lustful tone of his. Without uttering a word she slowly brought the washcloth up to his chest. 

“Good girl,” he whispered. He felt her body twitch around him in response to the praise, and he leaned back to relax and enjoy these final few moments of intimacy. 

It had taken everything in Tav's power to remain still while she worked. It wasn't exactly easy to focus- she was being split in half by a whimpering vampire beneath her after all. Astarion’s skilled fingers had been dancing around her swollen clit the whole time, just enough to keep her stimulated but never enough to let her come.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the blood was all cleaned up. She hadn't even realized when it happened or how he did it, but his pants were completely gone now. She reached over to place the cloth down and awaited her reward of sweet release.

Astarion’s hands moved to the knees that were straddling him and slowly pushed them farther apart, spreading Tav’s legs open bit by bit. She inhaled sharply as she took him in deeper. He opened her up more and more until she lost her balance and fell backwards onto his expectant embrace. 

“Relax darling, I’ve got you,” He purred in reassurance. 

Astarion took her entire weight in his arms with ease and laid her down amongst the soft pillows of the bed. He nestled himself comfortably between her legs, making sure their bodies were flush with one another. Nearly smothered by his body now, all Tav could do was claw at his back and arch her hips into his powerful thrusts. His mouth frantically traveled across her lips and neck with desperately wet kisses until he settled near her ear with a playful nibble.

“You’re so beautiful…” He whispered tenderly, while the rhythm of his lovemaking became increasingly sporadic. “So fucking perfect… Gods…just for me… I love you… so much...”

“Star, I- ah!” Her words cut short as she felt something snap within her. Pure ecstasy- she was falling and flying somewhere a million galaxies away and never wanted to come back. Obscene noises and curses filled the room as they rode out each other’s high in tight embrace. The smell of sex lingered in the air as their bodies heaved with labored breaths, finally collapsing on each other in exhaustion. 

They laid together a while longer, exchanging soft kisses and enjoying the short moment in time where nothing else in the world mattered. Eventually, Astarion rolled out of the bed and stood up to stretch. 

“Tsk, looks like it’s my turn to clean you up my dear,” He said with an accomplished grin, eying how her thighs were dripping with his sticky mess.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move an inch. Actually, I doubt you can move at all after that, ahaha!” He laughed and leaned over to brush aside a strand of Tav’s sweaty hair that was stuck to her forehead before walking over to the other room. 

“Shut up… dummy…” she smiled to herself and rolled over, feeling at ease enough that the weight of sleep was starting to overtake her.

“I love you too, Astarion.” Her eyes closed as she drifted off into a peaceful slumber, knowing that her lover would soon come back to her side like he always did, and always would.

[sttoru]

hai this isnt the same anon that initally requested it but i too would love to see brat! reader :3 maybe with gojo? <3

♯ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐊.

⟣ sypnosis. satoru eating you out simply because you had been pushing his buttons for too long.

⟣ note. has been in my inbox for a while but i finally got the inspiration for it nyom nyom enjoy

⟣ tags. dom!gojo satoru x sub!female reader. smut. pwp (diving right into it), sprinkle of degredation, edging, cunnilingus, spanking, uhh hes eating it out from the back, pre-mature ejaculation almostttt, mention of creampie.

“fuckin’ wet already, shit.”

satoru groans as his hands grasp at your hips, keeping your lower body in place — palm harshly making contact with your ass each time you tried to take away his view of your pussy lips spread out so nicely.

it had only been a minute since satoru’s switch was flipped; since he had enough of your games and placed you on your stomach, forcing your ass up like you asked for. you had been provoking him all afternoon — on purpose — to make him lose his temper. it was your own curiosity and stubbornness that led you to this current predicament;

you simply wanted to get a reaction out of your lover whilst he was busy checking some paper work for his upcoming mission. that reaction turned into your ass up in the air, panties down at your ankles, pretty cunny right in front of satoru’s face.

“‘toru, please — want you.” you still had the guts to beg him. satoru wasn’t taking any of it, not when he was already planning on how to take revenge on your earlier actions by edging you until you start to cry tears of frustration.

your lover flicks his finger against your wetness for a second. it felt like a pinch, yet you couldn’t help but be absolutely turned on by it. the slightest of touches made your sensitive body jolt. satoru’s hot breath on your gaping pussy was just adding to the overwhelming need to be eaten out;

“hmm. . i can tell you were touching yourself before this,” the white-haired man sighs, that exhale of air making you once again squirm — gaining another heavy slap to your left buttock, “sit still. i’m not repeating myself, baby.”

you try your best to keep your own (involuntary) reactions in check. maybe if you listened to satoru, he’d reward you by tasting your pussy. he was dying to do it — to put his tongue against you, use it in ways that were going to make you come undone in just a few seconds.

though, he also did want to punish you for messing with him. as much as he wanted to eat you out — bury his face in your folds and lap up your juices diligently.

“ohh? seems like you can listen to me now, huh?” satoru chuckles, seeing how you were trying so hard not to take matters into your own hands and push your hips back against his face, “if you had just behaved and listened to me earlier like you were doing right now, i probably would’ve eaten you out long time ago.”

“too bad ya decided to be a brat today.”

all you could do in that situation was whine and beg satoru in such a lewd tone that it got him gripping your hips tighter, almost leaving bruises by how hard he was trying to hold on to his current desire to edge you. to not give you what you want until you—

“satoru, please — i’m sorry. i need you, baby.” you moan and try to look over your shoulder at your lover. if your words weren’t convincing enough to make him forgive you, your pleading looks certainly will.

and you were right; that was his breaking point. to hear you moan out his name and the nickname ‘baby’ so erotically whilst also staring at him with those glimmering eyes of yours. . . he’s given up.

his mouth immediately latches onto your soaking cunt, sucking on it to relinquish in the taste of your wetness. his nose was buried between your pussy lips, skilled tongue working circles around your clit and below the bud — swallowing his own saliva which was mixed with your slick,

“mmph—fuck—you got me good this time.” he mutters whilst his eyes rolled back into his head from the way you were trying to ride the feeling of his tongue. his big hands held your hips down as he knelt behind you, keeping you from escaping even if the stimulation was becoming too much.

satoru could feel his cock stir in his trousers. it begged for a release - for a release deep inside your walls - the place his cum belongs. your loud moans and your round ass that jiggled slightly as you tried to grind against his tongue, made the sorcerer want to cum already.

“shiiit, yeah—show me that fucking ass.” satoru grunts once he feels you clench around nothing due to the feeling of his fingers digging into the fat of your ass. his mouth continues its magic on your dripping cunt, keeping your lips spread so his tongue could tease and dip the slightest bit into your throbbing entrance.

his own hips buck up into nothing—an automatic reaction to your needy whines and motions, along with the delicious taste of your tight little cunt. satoru could feel you shake, your noises of pleasure increasing — which could only be due to one thing;

“aht, aht. not yet,” your lover chuckles and pulls his mouth away last minute, before you could finish and hit your long-awaited release. you groan in frustration, though that only turned satoru on even more as he watched the sloppy mess around the skin of your pussy. a mixture of his saliva and your sticky wetness;

satoru could’ve sworn that he almost felt himself cum in his pants. if he hadn’t pulled back, he would’ve orgasmed right along with you — which he doesn’t want. he wants it to be with you and in you.

though, you’d still have to earn that latter. you’d have to earn your orgasm and his body if you wanted to get anything out of your current situation.

“did ya really think i forgot how much of a tease you were earlier?” satoru coos, almost in a condescending manner, his finger tracing your vulva slightly to keep you wanting more.

“how adorable of you.” he purrs before placing a soft kiss against your aching pussy — one that made it tingle and tighten up around nothing again.

it was in that moment that you knew: you weren’t going to catch a break tonight.

[junggunz]

lovin' on me |🔞

summary: I'm vanilla, baby. I don't like no whips and chains. cw: fembodied!reader | SMUT | pwp | fluff if you squint | sinu + breeding and daddy kink | jerry + size kink, sprinkling of service dom energy | jake + fwb to lovers | all characters featured are 18+ wc: 2.9k an: FIRST REQUEST FOR BIG BABY JERRY AHHHH. i couldnt help myself and added in some other daddies as a treat hehehe HAPPY VALENTINES DAY.

“I'LL CHOKE YOU BUT I AIN'T NO KILLER, BABY”

──★ ˙ ̟SINU HAN

Sinu lives for romance— of course he went all out on Valentine’s Day for you. From the little things like getting your shower started for you before you woke up so you didn’t have to wait for the water to warm up, putting your towel in the dryer then bringing it to you when you finished, and even ordering your favorite breakfast so you could start your day in the best mood. It’s hard to pick your favorite part of the day when it’s packed full of so many loving gestures that make you feel like you’re on top of the world.

Especially when it’s at the end of the day and you have Sinu rutting up into you and letting you feel every sweet inch of his thick cock filling you. The missionary position with him is the farthest thing from boring when every single one of his touches exudes so much passion. Hands glued to your hips while he pushes into you over and over, long hair disheveled as his head falls back with a honeyed moan at the sensation of your walls squeezing him so good; the two of you lost count of what round you were on now. So wrapped up in the embrace of pleasure, his sounds were starting to rival yours in volume. 

“F-fuck, baby, you feel so fuckin’ good!” Sinu rasps out, heavy lidded eyes drifting down to your point of connection and watching the way your folds squeeze around the tip of his cock each time he draws his hips back and pushes back into you. “I could do this all night, you’re not getting tired are you?”

Given how eagerly your sloppy little hole was sucking up his length with even just the slightest of movements, it seemed like your body had become dependent on his touch; several orgasms in and you felt like there was no end in sight.

“Sinu, I’m so full…” You barely get out between little moans, your voice starting to go and dropping to a volume so quiet it was almost drowned out by the sinful slapping of skin on skin and the squelching wetness seeping out of you. “If we keep going like this, you’re going to end up a daddy for sure.” You warn with a weak laugh.

It’s a joke but it gets Sinu’s thrusts to become less sensual and more jerky; the pace not picking up speed and only increasing in intensity. You don’t know what causes the change in demeanor until you notice where his gaze had been fixated on. Lowering your eyes, you see his cock glistening with a mix of your juices with no clear demarcation of where you began and where he ended.

“Oh god, yes, I wanna be a daddy.” Sinu groans, pushing his length as deep as he can into you; the tip stiffly kissing your cervix before you feel warm ribbons of his seed adding to the existing mess inside you. 

His actions don’t stop there. Absolutely not. Being selfish was simply not a part of his prerogative. Shifting the angle of his thrusts slightly, his cock presses into the spongy soft spot within you that he had been well acquainted with. With a few calculated and carefully paced pushes into you, it doesn’t take much for your thighs to start trembling and your walls to start seizing up around his cock; squeezing so tightly it tempts him into spilling inside of you again. 

It’s a flurry of paradoxical sensations overwhelming your body; you feel like you’re on clouds but at the same time, your limbs are so limp and heavy. This orgasm is more intense than all the other ones; the pleasure burns so hot in your core it almost hurts and causes tears to roll down your cheeks and has you gasping about how good it feels. As Sinu helps you ride out the high, his strokes slow to a snail’s crawl and he’s gently kissing away the tears that escaped your eyes.

“You took it so well, baby. Did you like that?” He whispers softly.

“Yeah, it was great.” You say, blinking heavily up at him as the bleary filter over your vision dissipates. “But now I’m wondering if it’s being called daddy or the idea of getting me pregnant is what got you so riled up.” You giggle.

Sinu laughs along with you, leaning in to nuzzle his face against your neck.

“Aw, baby, you know everything about you turns me on.” He replies smoothly; however you did pose a valid point and it had Sinu wondering which one of the two excited him more. There was plenty of time to figure out, but for now, he would let you rest.

──★ ˙ ̟JERRY KWON On Valentines Day, you and Jerry had planned to take the next step in your relationship. Everyone who knew him was well aware of his teddy bear like personality that contrasted his outward appearance. Even with that in mind, you still didn’t know what to expect from him in the bedroom. 

Big hands wander over the soft curves of your body: rough palms with a tender touch. Jerry’s fingers are significantly thicker than your own when you feel them teasing the slick ring of your entrance and it drives you crazy. 

“Need you inside,” you whine.

“Just let me prep you, baby, I don’t wanna hurt you.” Jerry murmurs softly, two of his fingers exploring the heat of your slick walls in search of your sweet spot. “You can’t even take the whole thing like this…” He hums, focused on the task at hand and his other hand keeping a firm hold on your hip to prevent you from squirming away. 

As impatient as you were, Jerry was right. 

Earlier, you had felt the hard outline of his cock through his pants and caught a preview of what was to come; your mind a whirlwind of thoughts about how it would feel to have him filling you up. Despite his fingers carefully spreading apart your tight walls to prepare you, there was no way he was going to be an easy fit— but the anticipation of a pain laced pleasure had you getting even more excited around his digits. 

A calloused thumb presses against your swollen clit in tandem with the fingers stimulating your insides and the pleasure warming the pit of your tummy has you begging.

“Jerry, please…I need more. You promised you would give it to me.” You whimper, needily bucking your hips against his hand. 

He’s conflicted. He wants to please you. He wants to share this moment of intimacy with you. But even the idea of hurting you on accident terrifies him. That feeling only increases when you take matters into your own hands literally and hastily strip him out of his clothes before settling beneath him once again; the hot length of his cock settling on the outside of your pussy as he slides it over your folds. You’re so wet, it doesn’t take long until the underside of his shaft is thoroughly coated in your arousal but you’re also just so small beneath him. Maybe if the size difference between the two of you wasn’t so dramatic, he’d no problem treading the waters.

Teeth sinking into his lower lip nervously, Jerry looks down at you while continuing to glide his cock through your folds. Back and forth, the heavy tip nudges your clit with a delicious friction every time. Forward then back again, your wanton expression finally gets to him and he stops with his dick laid out against your stomach; pulsing and leaking precum onto your skin. 

“Are you ready?” Jerry asks quietly, a light blush warming up his cheeks. 

“Yes, please let me feel you inside.” You mewl, canting your hips up toward him and encouraging him to mount you. 

Clammy palms splayed on the back of your thighs, Jerry spreads them and pushes your thighs closer to your chest, seeing your folds absolutely soaked and swollen for him. The tip of his dick lingers around your fluttering entrance before pushing inside, just barely stretching your pussy around the thick head.

“Ah—fuck—” You both moan at the same time, breathing catching in your throat at the long awaited contact.

The first inch slips in and you can already feel the sting of his cock stretching your walls open. Jerry is shuddering and you’re whining; the feeling is too good and he’s grappling with his own selfish desire to push all the way in with a single thrust. Babbling about how tight and wet you are around his cock, each breathy word is said with so much pleasure that you find yourself deriving your own enjoyment from providing him with this ecstasy. It makes your insides weep and expand to take more of him, urging him to sink even deeper into your sopping wet cunt. 

By the time Jerry’s fully embedded within you, your insides are so tight and sensitive around him, you can feel each throb of his cock against your walls; even if it hurts a little you need to feel him move. And at this point, all of his anxiety has dissipated and it’s like he was primed for your instructions; listening to every single one of your pleas and delivering them with gusto. His body is desperate for your guidance, knowing that it would bring both of you to a new realm of pleasure. 

“Jerry, give me the whole thing.” You pant, noticing the remaining inch or two that wasn’t glistening with your juices. 

And of course, he obliges; you take it all the way in spite of the pinching feeling that has tears pricking your eyes and your toes curling. Guilt washes over Jerry when he sees the tears beading along your lash line but at this moment, he’s feeling too good to acknowledge anything else. The little devil on his shoulder tells him that you were the one who asked for it so he shouldn’t pay any mind to your jaw hanging open with tiny choked out gasps escaping with each undulating movement of his hips. 

“A-are you— are you okay?” Jerry stammers, trying to get a grip and tear away from the lust frenzied state threatening to take over him.

“Feels so good. Keep going.” You encourage him, locking your ankles around his waist and pulling him balls deep into your tight heat.

Limbs wrapped around him, you draw him closer for a kiss; successfully quieting any lingering worries about him hurting you. He had promised to give you whatever you wanted today; and fear was holding him back from fulfilling his duties. Luckily for the two of you, the night was still young and there was plenty of time for Jerry to give you the Valentine's Day you deserved.

──★ ˙ ̟JAKE KIM

A friends with benefits situation is the last thing Jake would have wanted; but if it was what he would have to endure in order to get some semblance of intimacy with you, then fine. You say you’re not romantic and don’t wanna deal with the expectations and disappointments of a relationship and all it does is make Jake want to try and change your mind. 

Valentine’s Day is just another day out of the year, so it doesn’t mean much to you when you call Jake to come over. It totally slips your mind that this holiday was the reason there was so much lingerie on sale at the department stores. And any possible implications of you wearing lingerie when Jake shows up at your place are the last thing on your radar. 

“Jake, don’t leave so many hickeys.” You whine, feeling the way his lips remained consistently latched on to the sensitive skin around your throat and clavicle; teeth scraping the surface every so often.

“Why not? You don’t want anyone to know that you weren’t alone on Valentine’s Day?” He laughs softly into your neck while his hands remain glued to your hips and gently rocks your body on his lap; relishing in the feeling of your walls hugging his shaft. 

A groan tickles the back of your throat, unsure if it was because of Jake’s comment or the fact your pussy was so tight around him, you can feel every throb and pulse of his cock inside of you. Ignoring his question, you let out a shaky sigh as you pick up your hips until just the tip of his cock remained inside before you sink back down on him, taking every inch to the hilt and feeling his full balls press up against your ass. 

“You wore lingerie for me, you can’t tell me that you forgot what day it was.” Jake teases, lips leaving the column of your throat as he looks at you with a cheeky smirk, his fingers dancing along the lace edge of the sheer chemise you had on. The dainty and airy fabric fluttered with each of your movements, adding to the already stimulating visual of you needily fucking yourself on Jake’s cock.  

“Jake, just shut up so I can focus.” You mutter, planting both your hands on his chest before you push him to lay flat on the bed, now riding him harder and faster as you selfishly sought out your own release. 

As much as you hate to admit it, the flush that warms your neck and face isn’t just from the physical exertion of bouncing on his rather impressive length for so long; it’s partially because your subconscious desires regarding your relationship with Jake were creeping to the surface. It wasn’t an intentional decision for you to buy lingerie and wear it when you invited him over on the most romantic day of the year. The last thing you wanted was to give him any impression that somewhere between the late night hookups and platonic lunch dates when neither of you wanted to eat alone, something akin to a crush had developed. 

But it was too late. Things were working in Jake’s favor as his patience had paid off and he had finally been allowed past the high walls that guarded your heart. Every time the two of you had sex, he felt so far away from you—being balls deep inside you couldn’t close the distance created by your detached aura—but tonight, you showed him a more vulnerable side. From the way you get why when he tells you how pretty you are to how you’re more vocal about your needs and even the way you were riding him exudes more intimacy than usual. After spending so many evenings rutting into you from behind in your favorite position, just the sight of your pretty face contorted into an expression of unadulterated pleasure has Jake moaning softly. 

His chest heaves with elation, skin lightly glistening under the low lighting of your bedroom as he staves off his climax; letting you use him until you’re satisfied. Two orgasms in already, your pussy had made a mess all over his lap but it seemed like you had no intention of stopping any time soon.  

“Go out with me.” He abruptly blurts out, the slight strain in his voice becoming more evident when he feels your walls pulsing around him.

“Don’t say things like that so suddenly.” You pant, your pace unfaltering as another zip of pleasure starts to make your body tingle and your third orgasm draws closer.

Letting out a small chuckle of amusement at your stubbornness, Jake grabs both your wrists off his chest, pulling your arms behind your back to keep you in place as he starts thrusting up into you deeper and faster than before. Feet firmly planted into the plushness of your mattress, his cock digs deep into your sopping cunt and gives you the rush you craved. Being fucked like this renders you into a headspace that makes it impossible to think clearly; both you and Jake know this, so he repeats his declaration.

“I mean it. Let’s start dating for real.” He grunts, sweat beading along his brow as he tries not to get too lost in the soft warmth that was your body and the sinful silkiness of your walls gripping his dick. “I can’t play these emotional games with you forever…”

Eyes squeezing shut, you hear his words but any semblance of a response is nonexistent in your brain. All you can focus on is your body tensing at his pace that was getting progressively rougher as the two of you raced toward the edge of ecstasy. Each thrust seems wetter and sloppier than the last when your walls gush around him as he ultimately carries you to your finish once again. Body wavering slightly as he continued to pummel into you from below, you crack your eyes open to get a look at him and you can see the look of adoration that lays beneath all the lust. And in that moment, it’s impossible to deny him any longer.

“F-fine…we can try dating.” You try your best not to cringe at the words but once you finish speaking, you can already feel Jake’s cock throbbing at the sound of your agreement as he releases all his pent up frustration into the condom. 

From that point on, Jake promised to himself that he would try his absolute hardest to make every day—and every Valentine’s Day specifically— special for you so you wouldn’t have to fear love.     

[frenchkisstheabyss]

୨୧ ʝαɯႦɾҽαƙҽɾ (ƚԋɾҽҽ) ୨୧

୨୧ Pairings: rich boy!san x chubby!fem!reader, rich boy!yunho x chubby!fem!reader, rich boy!hongjoong x chubby!fem!reader, rich boy!seonghwa x chubby!fem!reader

୨୧ Genre: graduate school au/angst/smut

୨୧ Summary: It was never your intention to infiltrate one of the most exclusive social circles at your new university, seducing rich boys to get who and what you want. Wait, no, it was.

But your actions have consequences and, when the one who brought you into this turns out to be more devious than you expected, are you prepared to face them?

୨୧ Word Count: 2.0k-ish

୨୧ Warnings: a warning I must always add is that you're the villain. everyone's the villain. some more than others of course. kissing. strong language. San has some bruises from a fight. unprotected sex. sex gets a lil bit rough for a sec. a strength kink if you squint. finger sucking. lots of feelings. jealousy. bribery. backstabbing. corruption. pet names. mind games. ya know, wholesome stuff.

୨୧ A/N: This is part three in my Jawbreaker series. You can find part one here but you don't have to start from the beginning if you don't want to. Even though the reader's involved with everyone in this series, this entry is heavy on San with a sprinkle of Yunho at the end and a brief Joong appearance that'll lead into my Joong focused fourth entry. As always, I hope you lovely people out there enjoy it. Love ya.

It’s a morning like any other. Birds perch atop the branches of the towering oak tree outside of the window, chirping their tiny feathered hearts away. The early morning sun—only freshly awakened itself—stretches its rays through cracks in the embroidered curtains keeping you tucked in the gradually depleting shadows. Cologne, with notes of delicate jasmine and woodsy patchouli, pushes up your nose in small puffs each time your cheek presses into the silk pillowcase.

Deprived of any other details you can always tell whose bed you’re in by the scent of the cologne lingering on the bedding. But whose bed you’re inside of doesn’t always match with who’s inside of you. This is one of those times that it does. You know you’re in San’s bed by the cologne. By the sweet, hushed 6AM kisses that handsomely dimpled face snuck to you beneath the sheets. Kisses that led you to where you are now. Flat on your stomach—your plush body hugged by a mattress as soft and inviting as you are—with San so deep inside of you that the pressure’s almost maddening.

You whimper when he pulls out even the slightest bit and he just smiles, kissing you on the shoulder. “So pretty” he whispers, strong hands gripping your hips. With a grunt sensual enough to make you come right here and now, he thrusts into you, his hips working at a rhythmic pace. You feel the muscles of his chest flex against your back with each forward motion. If only there were a way of seeing him. How sinfully good he must look fucking you this way. Every fine muscle in his body dedicated to pleasing you.

It makes you even wetter picturing it. So wet he has to grip your hips harder, raising them an inch or so above the mattress to keep from slipping. The introduction of a new angle makes your body tremble. He feels it too. Your walls constrict around him, like a boa snake trapping its prey. He’s hard enough to meet you with equal intensity, stretching your walls so that the only sensation your body can recognize is this.

“San, oh god. Please…” you gasp, that magical prickly feeling radiating up your spine. “Please, what?” he teases, a hand coming up to stroke your cheek as his movements grow harsher. Your mouth falls open, your eyes twinkling like stars in the last remnants of darkness in the room. “Don’t stop” you beg, never one to hide how needy you are. Why would you when he finds it so goddamn hot? 

San’s fingers trace the bow of your upper lip, the curve of your lower lip, and rest at the tip of your tongue. You take them into your mouth, suckling and drooling as he gives you precisely what you asked for. No stopping. No easing up. All of him driving deep into you. Your lips quiver, moans muffled by his fingers, as the orchestra of pleasure that’s been playing inside of you all this time reaches the crescendo.

San snatches his fingers away, his timing perfect as always, just to hear your cries. Your fingers grasp at the pillow, tugging at the pillowcase while your body arches at the release. When you finally loosen your hold, your body calmed down to the point of only faint twitches, you feel his weight lift off of you. “Good morning, angel” he says, kissing the small of your back before rolling onto his.

Turning to face him, you slip into the comforting hold of his right arm. “Good morning, handsome” you yawn, eyeing the slight bruising on his face from last night’s run in with Seonghwa. It’d been easy enough to push the incident to the back of your mind, letting hours of infinitely satisfying sex bury the guilt you felt about what happened. Poor Hwa and what he must be going through. All of his work, the amalgamation of hundreds of hours of research, forever lost.

And San, achy and bruised, punched by his own best friend for something he’d never stoop so low as to do. “Tell him” the little voice in your head whispers. But how can you? Where do you even start? They’ll all hate you—San, Hwa, Hongjoong especially—and you’ll lose everything. It’s a knife to the gut when you realize that “everything” isn’t the money you came here in search of. Somehow along the way it’s become them. 

An alarm sounds, rattling you from your existential crisis. Recognizing it as yours, you grab your phone from the nightstand and return to his arms. “Shit, I gotta get to class. I don’t wanna” you pout, turning the alarm off and tossing your phone aside. San kisses your forehead, puppy dog eyes in full effect, “Then don’t go. Stay with me.” You want to say “Yes”, he doesn’t know how badly you do, but you still have to keep up with your academic responsibilities. 

“You know I can’t do that, San.”

“Why can’t you? You can do whatever you want.” 

“No, you can do whatever you want. I’m not you.”

“But you’re mine” he grins, caressing your cheek, “So technically you can. I make one call and you’ll make the Dean’s List without ever turning in another paper.” You’d almost forgotten he was a spoiled rich kid. He wasted no time reminding you. You roll your eyes, slipping out of bed to collect pieces of your clothing scattered about the room. “Has it ever occurred to you that I might want to have my own base of intelligence?”

San sits up to watch you get dressed, taking his time to enjoy the way your panties slip over your ass. “Not really” he answers, his gaze still fixed on your body. “You can be a real asshole, you know that?” you snap, rushing to put the rest of your clothes on, “Don’t worry about giving me a ride. I’ll call an Uber.”

San hops out of bed, swiping something up off of the floor, and drags you into a hug. Holding you from behind, his arms locked around your waist, he rests his chin on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” You try to wiggle free, knowing in an instant that you can’t. He’s far too strong and—hot as it was a mere 60 seconds ago—you hate him for it. “Whatever. Just let me go. I’m gonna be late.”

“Fine but take these at least” he insists, dangling a key in front of your face. You recognize it from last night. It’s the key to that sleek Lamborghini he’d let you drive him home in. It swings back and forth on the keyring, hypnotizing you with its beauty. “The Lambo? You’re letting me borrow it?” San laughs at how oblivious you are, “No. It’s yours. Think of it as an apology.” You spin around, prepared to protest, but he silences you with a kiss that turns your brain to a pitiful bowl of jello.

It was bait. A worm dangling from a hook waiting for some poor, naive little fish to bite it. And you did. A hook straight through the mouth, reeling you back into him. The key finds its way into your hand. Your panties drift back down around your ankles. You’re caught. Poor naive little fish.

“Would you like another coffee, sir?” the waitress asks, carefully refilling Yunho’s glass of water. Yunho peeks up from the laptop he’s been tapping away on for the last hour. “That’d be great. Thank you so much” he smiles, taking notice of the way she blushes when he looks at her. The waitress giggles, nearly overflowing the glass of water. She catches herself at the last minute, setting the glass back down and scrambling away.

Yunho laughs to himself, already sure that he’d have her in his bed by the end of tonight if he wanted. He’s not wrong. But first he has a paper to finish. He came here—to this cozy cafe with its floor to ceiling library and rustic exposed brick walls—in hopes that it’d help clear his mind.

Regret. That’s not the word for what he feels for what he set in motion. It’s more like doubt. Doubt about how far he’s willing to go to satiate his hunger for revenge. Blood’s already been shed and, now that he knows it’s a possibility, is it worth the risk of shedding a little more?

Screech! A car pulls into the empty parking spot outside in perfect view of his window seat. Yunho examines the car—the make, the model, the contour, the color—and knows who he expects to step out of that Lamborghini. “San?” he mumbles, rising from his seat. The car door opens and, in place of his old friend, he sees you headed straight for the door with rage in every step you take. He can’t see your eyes behind the dark glasses that conceal them but he knows they’re filled with hatred.

You charge into the cafe and meet him face to face, no pleasantries wasted on who you’ve come to view as your enemy. “I’m out” you say, removing your glasses to reveal the conviction of your statement. Yunho glances down at your outfit, an expensive black dress and heels from a Dior collection that doesn’t drop for another 6 months. “Hongjoong pick that out for you?” he asks, intent on getting under your skin. 

“Yunho, stop deflecting.” 

“So, the answer’s ‘Yes’ then” he gloats, adjusting the matching beret on your head, “You aren’t out, pretty baby. There is no out.” You slap his hand away, your defiance doing nothing to shake him. “After what you did to Hwa, there is an out. How could you…” The far away look on his face makes you question if he’s even listening. For once he is and the more you talk the clearer his true feelings become. He’s…hurt?

“What I did? You think I did that?”

“Ugh” you groan, massaging your temples, “Everything you’ve ever said to me was a lie. Can’t you be honest with me? Just once?”

Yunho takes you by the wrists, staring deeply into your eyes. “When I said something was gonna happen I meant to Joong, not Seonghwa. I wouldn’t do something that big without telling you” he says, his voice trembling, “You have to believe me.” The sincerity in his voice, the gentleness in his eyes, plays your heartstrings like harp. But your mind knows better. Going with your heart when it comes to him has hurt you too many times before. It won’t happen again.

“Uh, did you still want the coffee?” the waitress asks, awkwardly hovering beside the two of you with a small cup of coffee on a ceramic plate. Yunho switches the charm back on, taking the coffee from the waitress, “Yes, of course, thank you.” Seeing no point in staying any longer, you use this as your chance to make your exit. Staying there any longer can only lead to disaster.

“Pretty baby!” Yunho calls out to you as your hand reaches for the door handle. You stop in your tracks, curious what he could possibly have to say. 

“Do you know why I’d never lie to you?” 

You shrug, “I don’t know. Why?”

“You’ve seen the ugliest parts of me and stayed” he says, taking a sip of his coffee, “Why would I hide from you now?” 

There it is again. The tugging at your heart. It’s paralyzing. What if he’s telling the truth? The chances of that are as slim as winning the lottery but what if? Your head’s spinning when you climb back into the car, idling in the driver’s seat while you try to make sense of it all. It had to be Yunho. There’s no way it wasn’t. Everyone else on campus adores Seonghwa. Who else could even fathom hurting him? 

Tap! Tap! You jump at the sound of tapping on the passenger’s side window. Before you can investigate the noise a figure enters the car. “Hongjoong!” you shout, hitting him on the arm, “You almost gave me a heart attack. Shit.” “Oh, I’m sorry, cutie. You okay?” he asks, gently massaging your leg. Catching your breath, you notice something's...off. “I’m okay, Joongie but what are you doing here?” Stoic at first, his gaze shifts to Yunho moping inside of the cafe. When it comes back to you there’s an eerie, unnerving grin spread across his face.

“He’s so sad that you didn’t believe him” Hongjoong laughs, his eyes growing dark, “You should’ve.”

[misted-dream]

♟️ between heaven and hell ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ bodyguard!winwin x fem!reader ➛ part of the mad city series | go to district V

content | smut, sprinkle of angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, forbidden love but not really, forced proximity, a little bit of miscommunication, yn is mentioned to be shorter than winwin, slow burn?, winwin is kinda a dick at first

warnings | fingering, profanity, mentions of food, mentions of a shooting

word count | 18k

synopsis | being born into a repulsive fortune, your life is threatened more often than not. you’ve grown less and less affected by it throughout the years. however, as the day where you take on your father’s much coveted title looms nearer and nearer, more frequent and dangerous threats draw in. with all the money in the world, is it enough to buy trust?

note | ln stands for last name since yn is addressed by her last name quite a bit in this. the ending is a little bit rushed, pls excuse that and ignore the fact that this basically takes place in a week. what is pacing, idk.

tags @90s-belladonna thank you for supporting me!

a smattering of rain hits against the arched window pane of the library, filling the room with a soft pitter-patter. usually, from where you are seated, you can look directly into the well-kept and always blossoming garden. now, it’s too dark for you to make out anything but the slightest silhouette of your father’s treasured magnolia tree.

“miss ln?”

you direct your attention away from the book in your hands, and towards the library entrance that you had your back to.

“your father would like to speak with you.”

this late? you thought.

“thank you, priscilla,” you smile and your housemaid dismisses herself with a gentle nod. you glide your extended legs off of the couch and set down your book next to you on the velvet material of the sofa. sliding on your slippers, you make your way out of the library, softly close the door behind you, and amble along the long hallways and down the staircase leading to your father’s office.

you knock twice on the thick wooden doors painted in a pristine white. "come in," your father calls out. you apply pressure to the metal handle, cold to the touch, and the hinges creak slightly.

you greet your father, sat in his usual spot in the middle of the office with a floor-to-ceiling window to his back. then, something else catches your attention. a tall, backlit figure stands broadly next to your father. the room is illuminated by the moonlight and a gold accented lamp in the far corner, barely enough light to see 3 feet out in front of you clearly.

“yn,” your father addresses you faintly. you instinctively go to pull out one of the two leather seats tucked under the large, hand-carved wooden desk, its’ surface littered with documents and fountain pens. as you take a seat, your father begins, “as you know, your succession is planned for a little over a week, if all goes well. taking into account the latest incident, i have decided to take preventative measures to ensure no more dangers come to you during the lead-up.” your father pauses, his palm opens to gesture towards the man standing beside him. “this will be your new personal guard,” the man steps forward, “dong sicheng.”

confusion evidently sits upon your face. you want to flat out ask, ‘why do i need a bodyguard?’ but you bite back your tongue, trying to come up with a more eloquent and precise prod.

the man doesn’t reach his hand out, as you would expect, to introduce himself. he simply voices, “miss ln,” with a curt nod of his head.

you pull your eyes away from your new bodyguard, you still can’t make out too much of what he looks like. “father, i already have personal guards,” you state matter of factly.

“of course,” your father leans back into his chair. “but none of them are with you 24/7. sicheng will be, ensuring no harm comes your way.”

unbelievable. on the surface, it seems like he truly wants you under protection, but you understand your father’s schemes; you understand your father more than anyone else. what he’s really saying is that he has hired this man—dong sicheng—so that you will be put on his watchlist.

your father smiles a gentle smile. “but,” at the very first sound of a protest, the corners of his mouth begins to droop, “if this is about last time—”

with a firm shake of his head, your father cuts you off. “this isn’t negotiable, yn.”

normally, when you would argue things to be your way, your father would at least hear what you have to say. so, to be cut off so bluntly... a pang of helplessness strikes you square in the chest, and your eyes divert towards your new guard.

“i recommend you use your time to get adjusted to this change,” with that, your father dismisses the both of you out of his office.

you shuffle out into the cold, sterile hallways. marble pillars line the walls with ornate sconces attached upon them, each bearing a flickering candle. besides just hearing the firm footsteps of someone else tailing right behind you, you can also feel an almost omniscient presence shadowing you. swiftly, you spin around on your heels only to be met eye level with someone's chest. your guard's. you have to angle your head upwards so that you can look into his eyes; he seems to purposefully ignore your gaze, staring straight at one of the pillars opposite him.

he's undeniably gorgeous. the hallways are more lit up than your father's study, allowing you to examine every detail of your guard's face.

you wait a few seconds before breaking the silence, "are you not going to say anything?"

he drops his focus onto you. coldly, he replies, "that's not what i'm paid to do, miss." he lets his eyes linger on you for a moment longer, before returning to look at nothing.

he can tell that you're clearly annoyed by his response, but he makes no show of it. you continue, "if you're not even going to look at me, how are you going to protect me?"

"is there something i need to protect you from in your own home, miss ln?"

he knows. at least he's alluding to knowing about your last little incident. you curse yourself for being careless in your head. if you hadn't caused a ruckus when you snuck home a few nights ago, you wouldn't have this bizarrely handsome, yet callous man looming over you until your father sees a reason to think otherwise.

"no, i suppose not."

you turn around once more, facing the rest of the hallway. an archway leads to a stately staircase at the end of the corridor. you walk down the hall, trying to dismiss the delayed footsteps behind you, and enter through the archway. the staircase spirals upwards into the corridor connecting the bedrooms; yours and your father's. of course, there are other rooms upstairs, such as the library, the games room, other rooms that you don't concern yourself with too much. a grand piano sits in the centre of the spiralling staircase, its' glossy surface lit up by the moonshine flooding inside through the domed skylight.

you proceed up the stairs, not expecting your bodyguard to follow you up, but he does.

you pause, and look back around for the second time now in the span of less than 10 minutes.

"there aren't guest rooms upstairs," you point out flatly.

he responds, meeting your coldness with his own but only 10 times more intensified, "i won't be requiring one."

puzzled, you ask, "you're not going to be sleeping in my room, are you?" half jokingly, half serious.

"miss ln," he takes one step up on the staircase so that he's at the same level as you, forcing you to tilt your head upwards at him. the heels of his shoes echo loudly on impact against the quartz steps. "there are boundaries i must follow in my duties. so whilst i won't be requiring my own room, i also know not to overstep into your privacy." he scans your face, looking for any hint of understanding. then, he adds plainly, "i will be guarding your bedroom door outside. you can rest assured."

you can feel a sly smirk creeping up onto your face, "shame. here i was thinking that you would follow me everywhere. speaking of," you make an exaggerated movement out of looking down at the watch on your wrist. "i should better shower; it's getting late."

sicheng's face is unfazed but still, you simper, looking pleased with yourself.

he stalks behind you wordlessly as you make the rest of your way up to your bedroom. and sure enough, he stops and stands outside to the right of your door.

"you can't be serious," the thought in your head slips out through your lips.

he doesn't look back. "i'm afraid your father is a vey serious man, miss ln."

how does father expect this man to stand outside of your room all night long? assuming he doesn't sleep, given the 24/7 hour-ness as mentioned in your father's spiel, how will he even have to energy to do his job?

you study the profile of his back for a few seconds before pushing your door closer to the frame, not completely shutting it.

your bedroom connects to an en suite bathroom. to say it's grand is underplaying the extent of luxury which you live in. the room is unnecessarily spacious with marble counters and a tall ceiling with intricately moulded details. a round bathtub sits in the centre, integrated directly into a gazebo-like fixture. a golden chandelier hangs overhead the bathtub, softly lighting up the room, creating a warm atmosphere. to the right side of the tub, facing across from the mirror and the sink, stands a shower area enclosed by frosted glass doors.

you reach for your zipper on the nape of your neck. you slide your thumb underneath the metal tab and begin to pull it down between your fingers. it budges an inch or two before it gets caught onto the fabric of your dress. "ugh," you vocalise. forcibly, you attempt to get the zipper unstuck, tugging and tugging but it won't shift.

you can only think of one solution.

"uh," you call out loud enough so that your bodyguard outside is sure to hear you. you're not quite sure how you should address him; calling him by his name feels weirdly a bit too intimate.

putting you out of your misery, he responds, "yes?" from outside in the halls.

"could you... come in?"

there's a break before he answers back to you. "i'm afraid that's unbecoming of me unless there's an emergency, miss ln."

you roll your eyes, despite knowing he's not there to see. "there is an emergency. will you come in now?"

"...are you decent?" he seems to contemplate his words carefully.

"god, you're frustrating," you blurt out, "yes, i'm decent- who do you think i am?"

there's a brief pause in time before you hear footsteps step into your bedroom. you can see him stop in front of your bathroom doorway in your peripheral.

you look over at him, standing tall and poised with his hands clasped in front of him. "what's the emergency, miss?"

turning your back against him, you sweep your hair over your shoulders, baring your zipper. "i can't get this unstuck."

he doesn't take any steps towards you, "and you needed me to come in for this?"

your patience grows thinner and thinner by the second. "if i could've got it myself, i wouldn't have called for you, would i?"

with this, he takes one... two... and three steps. just three steps before he's in reach of you. you can feel a warmth draw closer to you. turning your head towards your shoulder, you can see him standing behind you in the mirror. without knowing, you hold your breath. he goes to pull gingerly with one hand on the back neckline of your dress, the other trying to unwedge the fabric jammed underneath the zipper. he frees the tab and smoothly, he unzips you down to the middle of your back, stopping himself from releasing the zip all the way down. immediately, he drops his head and removes his hands from your dress while simultaneously taking a large step back from you.

"if that's all, i will leave you to rest for tonight, miss ln." his head is still angled downwards, eyes glued to the bathroom tiling.

you mutter, "thank you," finally taking in a breath again.

he nods, and begins to step backwards out of the bathroom. before he disappears completely from your field of vision, he is stopped by your expulsion of an 'um.'

without a word, he waits for what you have next to say. turning around to face him, he lifts his head and meets your eyes, still as emotionless as they were when you two were on the stairs.

"goodnight, sicheng."

you can see his chest rise, and fall before he speaks again. "goodnight, miss ln."

there's gentle thumping at the door but you can't be sure. your head and senses are foggy from sleep. your eyelids remain shut, trying to phase out the knocking.

"miss ln?"

for a brief moment, you don't recognise the voice calling out for your name. it is much deeper than the normal voice of your housemaid. your eyes open to a squint to see the morning sun rays surging into your room through the mesh veil of your curtains. another part of the garden can be seen through the windows to the right of your bed.

"miss ln?" sicheng calls out again.

"yes?" groggily, you answer as you push yourself up, propping your back against the cushioned headboard.

"your housemaid informs me that you have errands to run today."

your head snaps, remembering what today is. the gala.

he continues speaking, "i tried to send some of my men to help carry out your errands for you instead, but i was told to get your permission."

you manoeuvre out of your bed, tossing the throw blanket off of you. heading directly for the double doors, you swing them open to find dong sicheng standing right outside with his arms behind him, his head bowed. the sudden movement causes him to jolt his head upwards.

"no, i'll go," you scan him quickly up and down. he's dressed in the exact same outfit as last night, hair still combed over only a bit more disheveled. you want to ask if he really stood outside of your room while you slept throughout the whole night, but you know what he will say. your father never made promises he can't follow up on, mainly because it was never him personally who fulfilled his promises.

sicheng, looking caught offguard for the first time quickly steels his face back again into his trademark stoicness. "then, i shall accompany you." he gives your get-up one swift look down, then back up. "i'm ready whenever you are."

feeling only slightly annoyed at his gesture, you close the door on him and go to get dressed.

...

sicheng sits next to you in the car. the driver in front seems to pay no attention to his presence. you glance over, trying to make your staring not as conspicuous, but to no avail. his posture is perfectly upright and his hair looks more groomed than when he was stood outside your bedroom door.

"do i look to your standard, miss ln?" it's only when he finishes asking his question that he meets your gaze. it's clear in that moment that he didn't expect an answer to his rhetorical question.

feeling only slightly embarrassed, you lower you eyebrows at him, "do you remember last night when you said you don't get paid to talk?" feigning curiosity with your head tilted to the side.

the slightest smile breaks on his face. "very well," eyes diverting away from you and onto the road out in front through the windshield.

the rest of the ride is silent, which your chauffeur took as a sign to turn on the radio. the first piece that blares out ever so softly is liebestraum no. 3.

the car then comes to a halt in front of a private wine bar. sicheng opens his door and holds onto the handle as he waits for you to shuffle out behind him. then, he shuts it and waves the driver off to a direction. you readjust your outfit from having been sat down.

carefully, you traipse your way towards the entrance of the wine bar, being deliberate to not place a heel down in between the crevices of the cobblestone that lined the courtyard.

"i'm surprised you haven't voiced your displeasure for me going out of the house, yet," you remark, "surely, my father told you i was not to be let out."

for having been against the idea of having a bodyguard just yesterday, you seem to have grown rather used to having sicheng around you rather quickly. you can only hope that he doesn't pick up on this.

"not to be let out without protection, yes."

he's quick on the draw. you pause right in front of the heavy mahogany door, the top of it curved inwards to a sharp point. your eyes gloss over the coffee brown grain pattern before you place a palm onto it and push inwards.

...

it's been a few hours since you've arrived back home from the wine bar, having picked out the perfect gift for the gala host tonight. sunset falls upon the horizon and that's your cue to start getting ready.

you've always had a habit of putting on your makeup by yourself as opposed to having someone else do it for you. however, that habit doesn't carry over to styling your hair.

you're sat in front of a full length mirror, a baroque style detailing frames the entirety of it. priscilla, one of the housemaids who's similar in age to you, stands behind you, attentively pinning the hair in the back of your head into a detailed updo. you look at your dress in the mirror. the square neckline makes space for your freshwater pearl necklace that glows softly against your skin.

"and... all done," priscilla announces.

you turn your head in the mirror to get a better view of her work, "it's a beautiful job." you stand from your seat, catching her eyes in the reflection, "thank you."

she smiles brightly, her youth glints in her eyes. "here," she looks to the side to grab a pair of long silk gloves, holding it out to you. you pull them over your left hand all the way up to your elbow, then your right, struggling a little over the bandage wrapped around your palm.

after tucking your purse in between your arm and your ribs, you're ready to head out.

sicheng is already in the foyer, waiting for you. when your heels first click against the quartz stairs, his eyes darts toward you at the top of the spiralled staircase. you delicately place a hand on the iron banister and as you make your way down the steps, you glide your gloved palm along the railing.

sicheng watches your every action.

when you reach the bottom of the staircase, you shake your head gently to push back the strands of hairs that had fell in front of your face.

"how do i look?" you ask with a teasing smile.

you can see sicheng's lips part faintly, only for him to clear his throat right after. "as you do normally, miss ln." he subtly straightens his posture and pushes his shoulders back. "after you," he gestures towards the front door.

...

sicheng pulls open the door closest to you. he extends his palm towards you, with his other hand cradling a small, rectangular wooden box. you take his hand as you lift one foot out of the vehicle and onto the tiled courtyard of the xiao family house.

the butler comes to greet you. you've known him and the family that he works for for as long as you can remember, and seeing him again tonight struck a chord within you. a certain spark of gloom settles inside your stomach when you see him smile, his wrinkles deeper and his hair greyer than you remember.

the butler leads you down the main entrance hall towards the gala that's already well under way behind the closed doors. you've been down these halls more than a handful of time, the same paintings have been hung up on the walls for at least a decade, but the air of elegance and grandeur that the xiao family home exudes never fails to knock your breath out of you.

sicheng notices you seemingly lost in a thought, and before the trio of you reaches the superfluously tall double doors, he quietly utters, "is everything alright?" being mindful and not wanting the butler to overhear if something was amiss.

you glance over your shoulder, out of your trance, "yes."

he doesn't press, anymore. even if he did want to ask more, ask if you were sure, he knew his place, and so he didn't pry further.

the butler pushes open the double doors and a gentle puff of wind blows against you, travelling along with the music to your ears. "enjoy the gala," he smiles, and you return his display of friendliness.

as he walks back down the other direction, sicheng inches ever so slightly closer to you.

the cold and eerily too refined hallway is starkly contrasted by the lively atmosphere of the gala ballroom. attendees are chatting, networking, dancing. they all look extremely distinguished; pearls and diamonds and crystals draped all over them. the chandelier hanging in the middle of the ballroom is glistening, and a small orchestra is performing at one end of the hall.

you pause on top of the stairs for a moment, taking in the scene in front of you, and simultaneously searching for a face. then, you find it.

you begin to make your way down to where everyone else was on the dance floor, and sicheng follows closely behind you. as you weave your way in between the attendees, your senses are hit and overwhelmed with notes upon notes of fragrances. it transitions from roses to vanilla, cedarwood to bergamot. individually, these aromas would typically be more than pleasant, but combined together along with the heat emanating off everyone, it muddled your senses so much that a headache began to creep its way into your temples. it's clear as you manoeuvre your way across the dance floor, that sicheng stood out to everyone as an unusual date of yours. they would flash a faint smile at you then take one, or two glances at the man trailing behind you. guards weren't uncommon, yes, but to bring a personal guard to a gala hosted by a well respected member of the upper echelon? that was uncommon.

finally, you're face to face with the person you've been looking for: the host.

"mrs. xiao."

"yn!" she enthusiastically greets you, a beaming smile on her face. her arms open up and pull you into a warm embrace. "goodness, i haven't seen you in so long!" she expresses as she begins to pull away.

"i know, it's been way too long," you politely respond.

if you were talking to anyone else in this room, you'd be dead before you were caught speaking so casually to them. but you grew up next to mrs. xiao and her family. her son, dejun, was practically your childhood best friend. well, it's hard to tell if a best friend really is a best friend when that was your only option, but nonetheless, your two families were close.

"oh!" you voice as you turn around to sicheng. you stretch your hands towards the wooden box that he was carrying and he places it gently into your palms. "here, i got you some merlot," you turn back around, "i asked barnie at the winery to give me your favourite," a curl stretched your lips taut.

a wave of gratitude washes over mrs. xiao's face. "you're still as thoughtful as ever, yn." she takes the box into her arms, and as if on cue, someone dressed in a neat uniform comes towards mrs. xiao and takes the box away so that she doesn't have to carry it herself for more than a couple of seconds.

and right at the moment, dejun approaches where you are stood in the centre of the ballroom, walking alongside some other guests, one you know, the other you don't.

mrs. xiao turns to him, trying to contain some of her agitation as she mutters, "where have you been this whole night?"

"i've been in here, ma," he responds equally as quiet, but more passive aggressively, disguised with that bright smile of his.

mrs. xiao turns her head away from him with her nose up, trying to swallow down her irritation. "anyway," she breathes out. "dejun, aren't you going to introduce your friends?"

he took that as a sign to do as his mother asked, but not before sighing a shallow breath first. in an instant, he puts on a charming smile. you know he's not doing it for you, he couldn't care less about being charming towards you; both of you knew you would see right through it anyway. "yn, this is rin. rin, yn. and hendery's here as well, i guess," he mutters the last part of his sentence.

you stifle back a smirk at dejun's attempt at humour and extend your palm for a handshake with rin. "it's a pleasure to meet you." she doesn't say anything but shakes your hand gently and mirrors your smile back to you, except hers looks very practiced and unnatural.

mrs. xiao tuts her teeth, so subtly that it's barely audible. she turns her body into you ever so slightly, leaning forward and muttering under her breath into your ear, "i really wish you were here to stop my jun兒 from falling into these circles. look at them, no manners at all."

dejun watches almost awkwardly, then he switches the attention onto you. "what about you, yn? aren't you going to introduce us to your little armpiece?" he cocks his head in sicheng's direction.

mrs. xiao shoots dejun a stern look, one that carries the weight of a thousand words. but in front of such a crowd, the extent of her reprimanding ends at, "don't speak so crass."

dejun only shoots up his eyebrows in response, and sucks in a quiet breath.

"this is dong sicheng," on instinct, your hand sweeps out to the side of you and sicheng nods. "he's the... bodyguard, that my father hired."

"bodyguard, huh?"

"don't start, xiaojun," you try your best to make it seem subtle enough, but dejun chuckles at the sight of you rolling your eyes.

mrs. xiao cuts through the brief pause in conversation, "well, we would love to stay and chat more but i should go greet some of my other guests. you don't mind, yn?"

"no, of course, not."

mrs. xiao gives you one last squeeze before she's off again waving halfway across the room to somebody else, and dejun and his friends trail behind her.

you're about to turn around when a waiter passes by you and sicheng, one hand balancing a tray full of glasses of champagne.

"a drink, miss?"

you pinch the stem of the glass in between your fingers and your thumb. when the waiter offers one to sicheng, he declines.

as you bring your champagne up to your lips, sicheng slips his fingers around the bowl of your glass and forcibly pulls it away from you. "he offered you one," you look at him in disbelief, but he acts as if you didn't say anything.

he hovers the rim of the glass under his nose, swirling the champagne around as he does so. you watch, still half incredulous and half in puzzlement. he brings the rim up against his lips, tipping the glass towards him as he takes the tiniest sip of champagne that you’ve ever seen. as he swallows, he smacks his lips together lightly, then he passes the glass back to you.

“what was that for?” hesitantly, you sit the bowl of the glass back into your palm. you’re not sure if you should sip from the same cup as he did—is that even appropriate in this setting?

“not laced,” he states nonchalantly, eyes darting around the room.

it takes your brain a few seconds to fully process what he just did, and said. “and why would it be laced?” a confusion intertwined with your voice.

sicheng stares at you, not blankly, but not aggressively either. it’s like you can read what he’s doing in his head, going down winding paths to find you an answer, but you can’t read exactly what it is that he’s thinking.

he finally responds after a good few moments of him turning your question over in his head. “you are my responsibility,” he can sense that you are about to object this statement, so he quickly continues. “regardless of what you may think, you are. whatever i do, i do in your best interest. do you understand now?”

truthfully, you want to reply, ‘not quite.’ how does that explain why your drink at a gala held by people you know, people you trust, would be laced?

sicheng leans in close enough so that you can hear him at a whisper, but not so close that people will see and start to speculate. "miss ln, may i remind you you're a successor. i know you've already lived through some threats, but if they were willing to threaten you when you arguably held no power, imagine what they would do if they knew you were taking over your father's position as mayor."

he backs away; face still as cold as steel, not letting anything that he's thinking or feeling show. you can't help but feel a bit shaken at his words. yes, you've received threats before, but they were mostly empty-handed words scribbled on a note. you never thought anything of them, until sicheng said something just now.

"there's no reason people here of all places would want to do anything to me; you're too paranoid." as the words leave your mouth, you can feel your doubt coating your tongue, but you wash it down with some sparkling wine. just a little bit.

sicheng studies your expression for a second, his head tilting slightly to the side. "have you ever heard of a wolf in sheep's clothing, miss ln? maybe you're not paranoid enough," his last word drags off and almost becomes inaudible.

you blink your lashes a couple of times looking up at him, and then an echoing voice pierces right through the ballroom.

"hello everyone! thank you all for attending my little gathering."

both you and sicheng turn your heads to the origin of the sound. mrs. xiao is stood on the little stage that the orchestra has been performing on.

a pleasant smile drawing on her face as she addresses her guests, "it is so great to see so many of you. as you all know, my husband and i-"

the lights cut. the chandelier that was hanging above the dance floor flickers off.

mrs. xiao's voice can be heard again, but this time loudly proclaiming without the help of her microphone over the gasps and murmurs of confusion. "everyone please remain calm—i'm sure the lights will be back on soon."

a sudden pang of fear hits you. your heart thumps faster in your chest, and your breathing becomes shallower and shallower. there's darkness all around you. you try your best to look for, or rather, feel around for sicheng but you remain quiet, knowing it will only add to the chaos. people all around you are shuffling, nudging everyone else. whispers and mumbles all fade into a singular stream of white noise around you. then, you feel a hand grasp on your upper arm. a sense of relief washes over your mind, sicheng. but then, the grasp feels begins to dig deeper and deeper into you, and it becomes clear to you that whatever grasping you isn't a hand. at least, it's not a hand coming into direct contact with you. the fingers digging into your arm are clothed by a silk or sorts; sicheng didn't wear gloves.

you try to free your arm by wrangling it away from whoever it is that has a hold on you. then, in an instant, you feel the hand drop from you so forcibly that it tugged your arm downwards along with it. a new hand has made its way onto you, this time just slightly below your shoulder. you hear a whisper in your ear, "come on, let's go," and the relief you felt earlier resurfaces. this time, it's definitely sicheng's voice.

he takes hold of your wrist, not too tight but just enough to guide you to the exit. as you two are about to head up the stairs to the double doors, the lights flicker back on and mrs. xiao is on stage again.

"there we are. i apologise profusely for that disruption," her hands grip onto the mic stand tightly.

sicheng leads you up the stairs and out the doors without second guessing; everyone else seemed too caught up in the middle of the chaos to notice.

...

back at your home, you and sicheng enter through your foyer and he's spluttering out orders and demands over the phone. as you pass by the large circular mirror hanging in one of the walls of the foyer, you catch a glimpse of your reflection. you double take. one of your ears are still adorned by the beautiful pearl earring that your father had got you, but your other one is missing.

sicheng gets off of the phone that he's been on since the beginning of the car ride home. then, he notices you staring at your reflection in the mirror. "what's the matter?"

you give a gentle shake of your head, fingers drawing at your bare earlobe, "nothing, just one of my earrings is gone."

"i'll have my men try to find it for you," he responds without missing a beat. "miss ln, are you sure that nothing else happened whilst the lights went out?" his eyebrows curve in a slight s-shape.

"yes, i already told you. someone grabbed me by the arm, but that was it. maybe they just thought i was someone they knew."

sicheng shows no reaction to your theory, "i will have this investigated, miss ln. i advise you to get some rest," he says with a bow of his head.

your nightly routine goes by like a blur. priscilla has been dismissed for the night, so you undo your hair, your gown, and clean off your makeup all by yourself, but your mind isn't fully in the present.

sicheng went off after telling you to get some rest, presumably to inform your father about what'd happened. you don't know for certain if he's still speaking to your father, or if he's standing outside your door right now.

it's not that your mind is dwelling on what happened; in fact, you are precisely thinking of nothing. everything in your vision passes by you like you're watching someone else lead their life. even as you get changed, crawl into bed, and try to drift to sleep.

suddenly, you hear a creak from outside your window. your eyes shoot open. trying your best to calm yourself, you reason that it's probably just mice who'd made their way into your garden. a strong gust of wind blows past. then, silence.

and another creak. all logic and rationale flys out of your mind. the only thing you can think of to do is...

"sicheng!"

you tried your best to hold your own earlier, down in the foyer, but right now the sense of urgency in your voice betrays you. sicheng bursts into your room, the buttons of the collar of his shirt undone.

"yes, miss ln?"

his eyes are solely focused on you, despite you looking out towards the windows.

"there's... i heard some weird noises," you gesture with your head pointing at the garden.

sicheng follows your gaze, then he looks back at you. he could tell you that you're in your own home, that you're safe, but instead, he walks over to your windows and draws open your curtains. "there's nothing here, miss ln." hoping that he can provide you with some reassurance, he looks back at you, "we've already done a perimeter check, you're safe here, i assure you."

you drop your eyes, responding with a gentle nod of the head.

"i'll be outside," he says as he begins to make his way back to the door.

before he can reach the handle, you stop him, "wait." he looks at you with an expectant expression. "can't you just stay here?"

even though he's a distance away, you notice a flinch in his brows as he registered your words. "i'm afraid that's not appropriate, miss ln." he says this, but he doesn't take another step.

"there," you point towards the sofa chair to the right side of your bed, "at least just stay there." you wanted to add a 'please,' maybe plead with him, but your dignity had to be kept even if you were fearful.

he doesn't protest as much as you thought he would. quietly, he shuts your door and makes his way to the chair.

your fingers hop from one note to another, pressing down with force and lifting again at the flick of your wrist. a familiar tune emanates throughout the room, rising up to the skylight, then sinking back down again.

your hands dance along the keys of the grand piano at the bottom of your staircase. a bittersweet melody fills your ears, and as you come to a decrescendo in the piece, the faint sound of footsteps through the marble halls overtake your playing. you swiftly turn your head around.

sicheng is stood behind you. under the bright morning light, his cheekbones stand out prominently. "i've been looking for you, miss ln," his chest falls as he says this.

"you dozed off," you turn your attention back to the piano, "i didn't want to wake you."

"i apologise; it won't happen again."

"you need to rest, too," you raise your hands and gently set them on top of the keys, "do you even sleep?"

there's a slight break in between your asking of the question and his answer. "occasionally, but not when i'm supposed to be on duty."

you turn back around, "well, like you said: i'm safe here." you scan him up and down, he's changed out of the outfit he wore to the gala last night, but all his outfits resemble each other. a black button up shirt, a fitted black blazer, black suit paints, a black tie, and a small white brooch on the lapels of his blazer. "do you play?"

he looks to be slightly caught offguard, "no. well, yes but-"

"play something for me."

you shuffle yourself to one side of the bench, making room for sicheng next to you. he slowly walks around and slides into the spot you've made for him. for the first time, you can visibly see that every one of his actions are carried out with hesitation.

his posture is perfect, head slightly tilted downwards and a curve at his wrist as his fingertips lay upon the whites of the piano keys. he clears his throat. then, a single note as he presses down with his index finger. the beginning is slow, slower than the piece was intended to be, but you know what he's playing regardless. nocturne op. 9 no. 1. there's a certain silent agony in the way he punctuates the flow of the melody. the second of the set of nocturnes that chopin had composed has always been regarded as chopin's more famous piece of work over this one. yet, the manner in which sicheng plays this piece makes you wonder why.

the stiffness that was prevalent in his body is now gone, fully immersed in the rhythm. the crescendo comes devastatingly, he leans forward into it, the melody tugging at your chest despite it sounding a bit brighter than the introduction of the piece. you watch in silence as his fingers glide and cross over each other masterfully, a sonorous tone emitting from his movements.

he doesn't finish the piece, but he finds a place to stop after a minute or so of playing.

his fingers linger on the notes as the melody fades out gradually.

"you play beautifully," softly, you remark, "where did you learn?"

he lifts his hands from the keys, clasping them together on his lap. "thank you—my mother taught me."

you watch as he swallows, his adam’s apple dipping slightly. a thought occurs to you. you barely know anything about this man who’s supposed to protect you. maybe that’s for privacy, confidentiality, or security reasons but, there’s a certain yearning in you that wants to find out more about him. after all, trust can’t be built without a foundation. you just don’t know where to prod.

“…and what about your dad?”

sicheng glances over at you, slightly confused at your sudden interest in him. his eyebrows flinch again. “he, uh, used to work for your father. that’s why i’m here. my family owes a lot to your father.”

he gulps again.

you’re not completely sure how to navigate through this conversation. do you ask where his father is now? what if it’s a sensitive spot, why else would sicheng be acting this uncharacteristically. his cold and cool demeanor seemingly melted away. “your father… is he…”

you don’t finish your sentence, but sicheng knows what you’re hinting at. “no, no. he’s just retired. too many injuries on the job.” he clears his throat and stands up from the bench. “sorry, i didn’t mean to intrude on your space, miss ln.” he begins to walk back around the bench.

you can’t help but let out a faint chuckle. “drop the title already. it’s just yn.”

he’s standing tall, hands clasped in front of him, and he purses his lips together. he dips his head rather jerkily, “as you wish.”

then, a ping sounds out.

you pick up your phone that was laid out on the top cover of the piano, and sicheng fishes for his in the inside pockets of his blazer. as he brings out his phone, you begin to hear a vibration sounding out. he holds it in his hand and flashes a quick glance at you, “excuse me,” then he accepts the call. as he brings it up to his ear, he spins on his heel and start to walk off into a distant hallway.

you divert your attention back onto your screen and begin to see messages popping up at the bottom. ones from dejun that read:

"my mum would like to apologise to everyone here about what happened yesterday."

it's sent to the group chat thread that you rarely respond to, though, you do keep up with its messages.

then, another:

"i don't believe in apologies without actions, so you're all cordially invited to come to dreamers' oasis in d119 tomorrow night."

"on me."

the last message was an important detail. you click on the notification bubble and already see others typing in the group chat.

hendery writes, "you are so gonna regret saying that."

a tiny smile creeps its' way onto your face. your thumbs begin moving on the keyboard; hitting send on a message that says, "hendery's going to bankrupt you," which earned you a dislike from dejun.

he ignores your comment, "will you finally be joining us yn? you know, seeing as it's your last week as a free woman."

the last part of his sentence hits you; maybe not to that extreme but it is your last week before you have to take on your father's responsibilities.

every time dejun invites you to a night out, it's most of the time a no brainer and not in a positive way. all the clubs and bars that your friends choose are out of your district's boundaries. and it's not like you didn't have clubs and bars in this district, but the fun ones—as dejun puts it—are only in district 119. you've only taken the risk a couple of times, but now, with especially an extra pair of eagle eyes on you, the possibility of sneaking out is practically 0.

before you can respond, hendery already sent out a message in your place, "have you seen her little boyfriend yesterday? there's no way man."

as much as you want to disagree, you can't. there is no way.

"not my boyfriend," you finally type out.

messages keep popping up on screen, a plan coming together with the people that can go. before you exit out of the thread, you type in "i'll see what i can do," but you stop short of pressing send.

quietly, you head off in the same direction as sicheng, scanning the halls for any sign of him. you're not quite sure what you'll do once you see him. beg him? please let me go out with my friends and get wasted? no. you haven't reached that point, yet; you still have some decorum within you.

you spot him still talking over the phone behind a marble pillar. as silently as possible, you sidle over to where he is, not wanting to disrupt him. once you're close enough, you catch glimpses of his conversation that he's having: "do you understand? whatever you do... we can't let her find out what happened."

your brain made the connect pretty quickly, the 'her' in question had to be you—who else? and what is he keeping from you? he continues speaking but nothing is going through you. all you can think about is, what is he not telling me? as quietly as you came, you retrace your steps back into the piano room.

you'd be lying if you said there wasn't a spark of fury beginning to catch within you. if you are to trust sicheng, why would he purposefully keep something from you? the more you think about it, the more agitated you grew. the fact that he seemed to treat you like a child needing protection every step along the way annoyed you—and what if his intention wasn't to protect you? your head can only spin with theories and speculations.

you unlock your phone again, and hit send on the last message you typed out.

...

your father wanted to have dinner with you tonight, alongside sicheng, of course. and you know now after sitting down to begin your meal, he really wanted to have dinner with sicheng tonight.

"any updates?" your father directed the inquiry towards your bodyguard.

the three of you are sat on a long, oval table. your father sitting at one end, and you and sicheng sitting across from him, sharing the other end. the candelabra stands in between you and your father in the middle.

"no, not yet, sir. we're still trying to investigate the intent behind yesterday's actions."

he finishes his sentence before continuing to cut into his ribeye. you sit adjacent to him, observing every movement he takes. as he stabs into the meat with his fork and brings it up into his mouth. he sets his fork down on the edge of the plate, bringing the napkin laid flat on his lap up as he chews.

"yn, you're not hungry?" your father's voice booms from across the room, breaking your attention away from sicheng.

you look down at your plate, barely touched aside from you swirling the sauce around. "no, i'm afraid not." you set down the fork that you have been toying with flat on the tablecloth. you pull the napkin from your lap and place it on the other side of your plate. standing up, you voice, "i'm a bit weary tonight." you spot sicheng shifting to get up from his seat in your peripheral, "no, no, please finish dinner. father, would you excuse me?"

"well... of course," with your father's approval, sicheng sits back down. you turn around, the heels you're wearing click at a steady pace as you're headed for the doors.

you haven't spoken directly to sicheng since dinner last night. the whole of today you spent cooped up in the library. that's not to say that you were being passive, though.

you haven't forgotten about dejun's invitation for drinks tonight—you just needed the perfect cover.

it's around 8pm, your maids have come and gone bringing you food and tea from time to time. you glance at the grandfather clock propped up against the wall in between all the bookshelves.

you slide the book that you've held in your hands back into its spot on the shelf. rather than actually reading it, your eyes have been skimming the pages and the words scattered throughout absent-mindedly. you turn your plan over around in your mind as you did so, and you have been for the past few hours, at least.

you drag your feet over the wooden floorboards of the library and crack open the doors. you peak your head out into the crack, then the rest of your body follows. oddly enough, sicheng isn't standing right in front of the room.

like a stereotypical action movie, you give the hallways a quick glance in one direction, then the other. you've never felt as much like a thief in your own home. sneaking, tiptoeing around the hallways, caution bubbling in every part of you.

when you reach your bedroom doors, footsteps sound behind you.

the looming presence of someone else doesn't speak, the only indication of them even being there is the shadow of them casted over your own feet.

you turn around, and you're met with the face that you've come to expect these past few days. "i'm... having an early night in."

sicheng's expression is unfaltering. the return of his stoicism makes you feel like a schoolchild being reprimanded by some vague authority figure; desperate to give more and more answers, to keep speaking and reasoning.

he watches your frozen body, as if you'd been caught doing something you're not supposed to, when in reality you're just stood outside of the doors to your own bedroom. "just thought i'd tell you," you add.

"well, don't let me stop you." his torso leans forward ever so slightly, the tone of his voice catching on the edge of a faint whisper.

the handle of the door clicks as you push onto it. when you look back to shut it, sicheng repositions himself with his back to the wall that lines the outside of your room.

once you're completely alone, you strip yourself of the sleeping clothes that you'd been wearing for entirety of today immediately and go over to your closet where you'd already hung up an outfit that you picked out last night.

you slip it on hastily: a tight fitting camisole top with a miniskirt, paired with some knee high leather boots and an oversized jacket for warmth. most of this outfit doesn't even look like it belongs to you. the people in your life knows you for wearing pretty dresses and skirts that reach your knees at least, but if tonight's going to be anything close to fun, then you need to look the part. you can't afford sticking out like a sore thumb, especially in district 119.

you'd texted your friends—or rather xiaojun, and his friends—earlier, asking if they could park right outside the gazebo at the far end of the garden, waiting for you to show up. this plan has worked precisely 2 times before with a 100% success rate, and you're counting on it working for a third time.

you would open the doors to your balcony, climb over the balustrade and scale your way downwards on the water pipe right next to your balcony landing. the garden wasn't fenced in like the front of the house. after all, this house was on private land belonging to your father; anyone who tried to trespass would've been seen by at least one person working on the property. so, it was an easy enough escape from the garden compared to your exit route down from your room.

you walk through the gazebo, hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket as you try to shake the cold of the night off of you. dejun's suv is there, headlights off.

they must've seen you even in the dark, because once you're about a step or two away, the passenger door to the suv swings open—dejun himself in the driver's seat.

...

after finding a quick place to park, you and the group walk a block to where the club is, having had a drink or two on the way here.

the streets are anything but quiet. the heavy void of the sky sits atop the city like a dome, the neon signs colouring the deep blue like a palette of dulled paint. the closer and closer you get to the club, the music already begins to boom from within. laughter erupts from the rest of the group from a joke that you missed.

a pair stands right outside the entrance of the club, one of them leaning against the brick wall whilst the other squats; cigarettes in both their hands. you hold your breath as you walk right into a fresh cloud of smoke, courtesy of the man standing up.

on one hand, you want to let loose tonight; have fun. but on the other, you can't help but wonder if you were meticulous enough, or even at all. there's no guarantee that sicheng wouldn't just open your door and find that you are nowhere within the vicinity. but he wouldn't for no reason, you try to calm your racing mind.

you find yourself at the back of the pack, watching everyone in front of you filter into the entrance, disappearing into the darkness surrounded by a rectangular frame.

dejun is right in front of you, he takes note of your hesitation. he comes back down from the steps leading to the entrance stopping right next to you.

lowering his head, he looks at you through his brows, "don't tell me you're gonna pussy out when you're right outside."

you try to dismiss the doubts flaring around in your head. "you wish. drinks still on you, right?" you shoot him a quick wink, then stride up the steps and like others before you, submerge into the darkness.

and immediately, flashing lights take over the darkness. a neon green fog floats just above the floor. a circular platform stands in the middle of the club with a metal pole going through the centre of it. the club itself is a lot bigger than you'd imagined, given what the exterior of it looked like. circle booths surround the platform and smaller ones are peppered all throughout. the ceiling is tall with decorative vines and ivies hanging from it, not low enough for anyone to reach. 2 bartenders stand behind the bar, busying themselves with orders upon orders for a room of, what looks to be about 200 people. a small, spiralled staircase stands to the right of the bar, leading to what resembles a loft platform with people drinking and laughing up on it.

it's as if your feet are stuck to the ground as you take in the scene before you. dejun places a hand on the small of your back. he utters right by your ear, "come on, that way," as he guides you towards one of the bigger booths right in front of the platform.

you plop down on the red leather couch, warmed against the back of your thigh.

remixes of popular songs blast unapologetically out of the speakers that lined every few inches of the walls. you can hardly hear the people in front of you speaking, debating what drinks to get first. you lean forward, wanting to get an in on what they're discussing. shots, shots, shots. after a word or two from dejun, everyone agrees that they should do shots first. melon flavoured, to be exact.

dejun vanishes into the group of people crowding around the bar.

"so, yn, how's leaving your house for the first time ever?" one of dejun's friends sprouts up.

you can feel your breathing pick up its pace. you weren't expecting much conversation seeing as 'friends' isn't exactly the label you'd put on these people, with the exception being dejun, and maybe hendery.

"great actually, thanks." you slide back into your spot on the booth, only slightly cramped with the amount of people sharing one area.

hendery lands a punch on the guy's arm, "watch how you speak to our princess." a smirk picks up on the guy's lips as hendery finishes his sentence, his tongue poking into the crevice of his cheek.

and just as quickly as the attention turned to you, it leaves you even faster. comments are thrown around about the female bartender.

"hendery, i'll give you £100 if you don't ask for her number tonight," someone chimed.

hendery quickly steals a glance at his phone before returning his eyes to the bettor, "i guess we're not leaving until after midnight, then." he sits back, throwing an arm around the girl next to him.

dejun makes his way back, hands holding as many shots as he could—which was 8. not all of them were filled equally, which you can only assume was attributed to dejun's bumping into people as he was on his way back. the small glasses were filled with a somewhat cloudy liquid. everyone picked up a shot as he set them down on the glass table, including you.

"to xiaojun bankrolling us!" a voice chirped up with a glass in the air. everyone else followed with a chorus of cheers, clinking the shots together before tipping their heads back and downing it.

as you swallow, there's a hint of sweetness from the melon flavour but the vodka is inescapable. you can feel it travel all the way with a burn down your oesophagus until it settles in your stomach, a heat spreading from it.

...

the overwhelming boom of the music does not phase you anymore. you are past the point of hazy where the only thing you can comprehend is what is immediately happening in front of you. object permanence? gone.

for the past few hours, you and the rest of the group you came here with downed shot after shot, drank beer after beer. no matter how high your tolerance was, tonight definitely pushed you over that line.

"xiaojun!" you shout across to your friend at the bar. he acknowledges you with a quick wave of his hand.

the others have their arms around each other's shoulders, foundering as they approach the exit. you lean against one of the walls right in front of the fog machine, waiting for dejun.

"come on, yn!" one of the girls shout, grabbing your wrist in her hands and linking you to the rest of the group. dejun finally makes his way back over, and instinctually you fling an arm around him, too.

the bunch of you look ridiculous; grown adults stumbling their way out of a club in the dark. half present smiles seemingly glued onto your faces. all of you count together as one by one, you take the couple of steps down onto the pavement.

once back on the street, you open your eyes to more than just a squint. the road looks the same as before. time has no effect on this district, neon signs still alight with strangers roaming the streets at any hour of the day. you bask in the warm orange glow of the lamp post directly above you, and you scan around for dejun's suv.

and that's when you see something across the road.

a tall, lean figure slanted against the hood of a car. you recognise his posture all too well.

oh shit. shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

you'd gotten so carried away tonight that you completely forgot that you weren't even supposed to be here. the drinks flushed every doubt, every worry out of your mind. it is only when your eyes see sicheng standing right across the road from you, and your mind consciously registers that, that every thing you tried to forget comes rushing back to you.

"xiaojun," you mutter under your breath, but he's not entirely in it, either.

sicheng spots the group of you, head tilted, and that's the moment he recognises you, in an outfit he'd never seen you in before, around people that he has seen before. he pushes himself off of the hood and crosses the road. you have exactly 3 seconds before you're done for.

the night is blustery, gentle, but breezy nonetheless. he's wearing a white button up with his sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone. as he's making his way towards you, his hands are tucked into the pockets of his trousers.

sicheng takes 3 steps onto the pavement that you're on, and you are met face to face with the guard that you attempted to escape tonight. he quickly eyes the rest of your group, too drunk to even comprehend what is happening and who he is. a misstep happens and three of them stumble, fall, and stack on top of one another. they laugh it off.

he returns his gaze to you. "miss ln."

it's magical the way you suddenly feel sober. confrontation is one hell of an antidote. "listen," you breathe out. but it's no use, even you know it.

sicheng spares you no pity. "shall we head home?"

you don't know what you prefer: him still being cool and calm and collected, or have him be so seethingly furious with you like your father would be. in that moment, you decide that his reaction is much worse. how can he stand there with the state of you like this and still ask such a question with a steeled face? does he not care?

you look over to dejun, who has now walked around you to help his other friends get up.

trying to make up your mind whether to plead your case in that moment, there is something else that you can decide easier. going home with sicheng. there's no use fighting it, and frankly, you didn't want to. so, you take a step, passing by where sicheng stood in front of you, and then another, and until you're across the road about to get into the car. your friends left on the curb—they'll manage, you figured.

your body can't help but shake as you step into the passenger seat. a jittery feeling overtakes you. do you explain? do you not? what even is the explanation?

sicheng gets into the driver seat. he turns on the engine, back up from the parking spot, and begins to drive off, doing this all without a word.

you steal a glance over at him, not wanting to appear too sheepish. a sudden apologetic sentiment freezes your body, but that same feeling quickly turns sour. you open your mouth to speak, but no noise leaves you. quickly, you snap your head back around and lean against the window. the quietness of the car ride has you feeling all the effects of the events tonight.

"you didn't think i'd know?"

your eyes shift over. sicheng's focus is entirely on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that the veins on his arms are prominent under the moonlight. he might not sound angry, but his body language gives it away.

"no, i thought..." you take a deep breath in. "i don't know what i thought," you finally admit.

if he'd heard your answer, he gave no indication of it. he continues driving, fingers still clenched tightly around the wheel. his silence lingers around for a good few minutes. no music, nothing; just the sound of the friction of the tyres speeding against tarmac.

"if something had happened to you, do you know what that means? for all of us?" he asks, in a tone that's more or less condescending.

you stay quiet—you didn't see a point in arguing your case. or maybe it was just the alcohol taking the fight out of you, the steady rocking of the ride seem to begin to lull you to sleep.

the rest of the car ride home was silent. sicheng's grip never loosened. and you can tell none of his frustration dissipated by the way he slammed the car door shut.

as noiselessly as possible, the two of you slide in through the main doors into the foyer. you pull on the heels of your boots to take them off, struggling with your balance slightly. as you're about to make your way up to your room with your boots in your hands, sicheng stops you with one statement.

"i won't tell your father."

you turn, feeling a disjointed mix of emotions. you're relieved, but confused...? and grateful, but suspicious. "why?" you bluntly ask, questioning his ulterior motives if he has any.

sicheng takes a deep breath in and rolls his head to his left side. he takes a single step towards you. the rest of the house is dark, the only light being from the two sconces on either sides of the foyer. as he looks into your eyes, his irises are two swirling rings of mystery. you can never guess what he's thinking.

"because it won't look good on either one of us," he whispers. "if you wanted to go out, you could've just told me and i would've helped you," he added, now with a certain softness breaking into his gaze.

your focus shifts from one eye to the other. sicheng can read every wrinkle in your brow and every glint of confusion in your stare. what are you supposed to make of the fact that the man your father hired to watch you like a hawk is willing to help you get up to things your father will never approve of?

"but why?"

it's as if the drinks had broken down your every guard, every filter that you're so used to imposing on yourself. the bluntness in your tone is something even you didn't recognise.

"tonight proved that you would sneak out regardless of circumstances. so, why not tell me so i can at least keep you as safe as i can?"

sicheng finds himself exploring every inch of your face with his gaze, studying the smudged eyeliner and lipstick on you, before meeting your eyes again. he continues, "i have a job to do, you know?"

it seems as though you're not the only one with a broken down barrier. the formality in which he normally speaks with is nowhere to be heard.

"and why should i trust you?" there's an edge in your voice that makes the question come out as offensive. "i can't," you quickly add before he even has a chance to reply.

and now it's his turn to be stumped. your sudden change in attitude evokes a return of the wince in his eyebrows. "what do you mean?" he falters.

"i heard you yesterday." your head shakes, the clear of your eyes glisten with a lack of faith. "what am i supposed to think of you when you're actively hiding something from me?"

it's like a wave of realisation hits sicheng. he recalls the phone call that he took yesterday, and realises what you must've overheard. it takes him a few seconds to collect his thoughts together.

"you can't possibly think that i would want to harm you."

"i don't know you!" you exclaim, maybe a bit too loud for this hour. "you waltz into my life and tell me that you're trying to save me, but i don't know you."

sicheng exhales and drops his head. his chest rises slowly as he takes in a deep lungful of air. "i didn't want to tell you because i didn't want you to feel... betrayed."

your body language communicates all there is to say. you urge him to go on with a shake of your head and a furrowing in your eyebrows.

"we have reason to believe that..." his voice is small, and soft, as if he's laying down cushioning for telling a child that santa claus isn't real. "the person threatening you runs in your immediate coterie."

your friends. that's what he's hinting at, that's what he's explicitly telling you right now. that possibly someone you went out with tonight have reason to threaten you. sicheng thought that telling you now would diffuse the situation, but in fact, it does the opposite.

"isn't that all the more reason for me to know? and you hid it from me for w-"

"yn," he corrects his slip of words, "miss ln." he cuts you off ever so calmly, "i understand that emotions are heightened right now. i think it's best we talk in the morning."

a knot works its way up into your own chest. your frustration is fuelled even more by his coolness. you stare at his ridiculously poised expression, and in that moment, you give up trying to argue.

you finally begin to walk up the stairs, with your boots still in your hands, ready to crash and give out onto your bed.

you wake up the next morning, or rather the same morning, with a throbbing pain in your head. one of your ears feels blocked and no matter what you do to try and make it so that noise isn't muffled as it filters into your ear, it doesn't work.

in the bathroom, you stare at your reflection and are in shock over how badly you removed your makeup last night. eyeliner stains the corners of your eyelids, patches of concealer are still on the sides of your face. you turn on the faucet, wait for it to become warmer, and scrub the remainder of the products off of your face.

in the midst of washing your face, you realise that you haven't had a proper meal since yesterday afternoon, as signalled by a grumbling in your stomach.

as discreetly as possible, you try to get out of your room, taking a gentle step out onto the hallway. you're not entirely sure why you needed to be stealthy, perhaps it's just the aftereffects of last night.

however, your plan to be concealed quickly falls to shambles as sicheng is, as always, guarding your door outside and your father is walking down the hallway heading in your direction. your heart starts to beat faster and faster; if sicheng didn't stick by his words last night then you are dead for all you know. that conversation you had in the foyer didn't leave your mind even for a second when you tried to fall asleep earlier, and you plan on following up on that talk he offered you.

your father reaches your room and stops to take one look at you.

"goodmorning, father." you utter. a tinge of sheepishness can't help but crawl onto the apples of your cheeks.

"goodmorning, dear," he stretches a warm smile directed towards you, and gives a simple nod of the head to sicheng.

so he didn't lie. that's the first thought following your relief that your father isn't absolutely furious with you. you glance at sicheng as your father walks past you continuing his way down the hallway. he flashes you an expression, one that says, 'what did i tell you?'

sicheng keeps his eyes on your father and as soon as he's out of earshot, he mutters, "surprised?"

a look of almost disbelief takes over you. the nerve on this guy. your heart almost jumped out of your chest and he has the cockiness to make a remark like that.

"stop fucking with me. you still owe me an explanation."

sicheng says with a simple shrug, "i've told you everything i know."

before you can speak back and challenge him, one of your housemaids yell out your name from the foyer.

you quickly make your way downstairs with sicheng following right behind you.

you spot priscilla kneeling down to pick up a package left right in front of the doors to the house. "what is it, priscilla?" you ask, as she begins to stand up again.

"i'm not sure—but it's addressed to you, miss," she responds, reading the tag tied to the parcel with a thin ribbon.

it's odd enough that a package made its way directly onto your doorsteps since the mail that you and your father receive are usually intercepted and collected at the mail room, or placed into your father's study. it's even more strange that it's directly addressed to you with your name typed and printed out in a sans-serif font.

you hold the box in one hand as your other goes to unravel the ribbon. you pull the knot through, and the box undoes itself. the 4 walls fall down revealing another note with your name on it, this time handwritten in a sparkly, gold paint.

you pick the note up and twirl it around with your fingers. sure enough, there's a message for you on the back. it looks like it was typed out on a traditional typewriter, it reads: "next time, i'll have your pretty head along with it" signed with kisses.

you suck in a sharp breath, a shock dawning on you. you look down at the opened box, under the note was a cushioning of tissue paper along with one earring. it took you a few seconds to study the singular earring, then it hits you: the pearl earring that you lost at the gala. your fingers begin to tremble, and sicheng watches as you're overcome with theories and conclusions.

he snatches the note from your hands, eyes scanning every word hastily and sees the earring in the box. it doesn't take him time to put two and two together.

immediately, he voices, "priscilla, did you see who left this outside?"

"no, uh, i opened the door because there was a knock and as soon as i saw the parcel with miss ln's name on it, i called for her." priscilla is evidently taken aback by the sharpness of sicheng's voice. her gestures are overt as she explains the situation.

sicheng pulls his phone out and his thumbs slide over the bottom part of his screen as he swiftly sends out a message.

he turns to you, "i'll go look over security footage right now. yn, go back up to your room." he motions over at priscilla as if to tell her that you needed to be escorted upstairs.

usually, you wouldn't just blindly listen to what anyone tells you, but your mind is running at 100 miles per hour. you recognise that gold paint, the writing, the flicks and hairline strokes that stylised your name. you've received a note from the same person before. only that last time, it wasn't as explicit a threat as it is this time.

...

you haven't stepped foot out of your room since sicheng told you to go back this morning. your maids have come up with breakfast and lunch earlier, but now it's well past dinner time, and the food outside your door remains untouched. the sky outside is darkening, with some rogue streaks of orange and pink as the sun dips below the horizon.

nonstop, you've been thinking it over and over in your head. putting together what sicheng told you and what you know yourself. someone close enough to you is threatening your life—but why? sure, there's the obvious reason that in a matter of days, you may possibly take over your father's title of mayor, but who would risk so much to send you a petty note? and everyone in your circle has a good enough status; what would they have to gain from this? surely, there's a blind spot that you must be missing.

your train of thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a knock at your door.

"come in!"

sicheng walks in to find you curled up in bed, knees tucked against your chest. he glances backwards briefly before closing the door behind him, "you didn't eat?"

"i'm not hungry."

you notice that he's not wearing his usual attire. a thin t-shirt covers his torso, and his regular slack pants are replaced by loose-fitting joggers. his footsteps are muted as he approaches you. there seems to be a debate in his mind whether or not he should be approaching you as he stops with at least 10 feet of space in between you and him.

"did you need me for something?" you mutter, patience thinning out on the edge of your voice.

you watch as he opens his mouth, but a response fails to be conjured up without a pause. "no, i just wanted to check on you."

you throw your blanket off of your feet and push yourself off the bed. the distance that sicheng left between the two of you disappears as you draw nearer to him.

you're not entirely sure what to do, or what to say. you look up at him and he returns your gaze. a breath hitches within you that you try your best to stifle. a knot forms in your throat and you swallow hard, dropping your eyes from sicheng.

"hey," he murmurs airily, bringing his hand up to your face. sicheng stops just short of cupping your face in his palms. you reach for his hand, taking it into your own, and he takes that as a sign to delicately graze your cheek with the side of his thumb. the lightness of his touch floats over your skin. "you're okay," he reassures you with a whisper.

it's hard to pinpoint what it is that you're feeling. there were books and lessons when you were growing up on how to be well-mannered, how to hone in your etiquettes, but there were never any rulebooks to teach you how to feel. especially, in a situation like this. how do we know if there's a right way to process our complexities?

you lean into sicheng's touch. "what can i do for you right now?" his tone coming off as a genuine offer of comfort, rather than him sounding like he is indebted to you.

finally, you lift your head, eyes running up against sicheng until it lands onto his again. "just stay with me tonight," though you meant it as a statement, bordering on an order, it ekes out of you with an uncertainty.

he nods, mouthing a soft 'okay.'

with his hand in your grip, you lead him to the edge of your bed. you can feel the hesitance in him, but he doesn't outright stop in his tracks. sliding into your covers, you shuffle over to make room for sicheng. admittedly, he didn't think this was what you meant when you asked him to stay with you tonight. he thought that he would just spend another night in the chair next to your bed, like he did before, but no.

you sit up against the headboard.

"you're... comfortable with this?" his voice is softer than dusk.

you nod, and with that, he slowly slides into your bed, a respectable distance between the two of you.

sicheng lays on his back, one hand behind his hand as you shift closer to him. though he tries his best to hide it on his face, the beating of his heart gives him away when you lay a hand over on his chest.

he rolls onto the arm closer to you, now face to face with you on the bed, leaving your hand in front of his chest on the mattress. he looks at you with a lustre in his eyes, the strong arches of his brows soften and his eyelids flutter.

you're close enough that you can hear the rhythm of his breathing and feel the warmth of his body against you. your fingers inch back onto his chest, running over the fabric of his shirt delicately, and onto his jawline. the tips of your index finger skim the contour of his chin, and up along his cheekbone. your eyes follow your fleeting touch against his face when it runs back down to the corner of his lips.

there's a few seconds in between you inching closer and closer to sicheng, and him whispering.

"we can't."

you stop—your breathing stops as well.

though you don't voice it out loud, the look in your eyes expresses every ounce of regret that you feel. your hand stiffens on sicheng's face, your fingers resting on the edge of his jaw.

his gaze flickers in between your eyes and your lips. it stays on your lips for a moment longer.

"i can't kiss you like we're lovers, when we're not."

the last three words slip out from his lips breathier than the rest.

you draw your body even closer to sicheng's, until there's only a sliver of empty space in between you.

"then, don't kiss me."

you plant a soft peck on his bare neck, and he can't bite back the tiny hum he lets slip. your lips stick to the warmth of his skin, a saltiness to it mixed with the clean scent of his cologne. simultaneously, he tucks your hair behind your ear, fingers laid flat on the nape of your neck as he pulls you in closer.

his hand runs down the side of you, finding a spot on your waist which he grips onto tighter. your teeth grazes against a vein in his neck and a groan catches in his throat.

your hips seem to have a mind of their own as they start swaying forwards, colliding with sicheng's thighs. "what are you doing to me?" he mumbles under his breath, so faintly that you nearly couldn't make it out over your own humming against his neck.

sicheng is overtaken by instinct. his hand find its way between your thighs, sliding up and down over the softness of your skin. you can't help the purrs of approval that tumble out of you involuntarily.

his fingers trace soft, soft rings on the inside of your thighs, stopping just an inch below the hem of your shorts. whatever you've started, you needed to have more of it. you pull your lips away from him and wrap your fingers around his wrist that hovered so close to the heat pooling underneath you. if he wasn't going to touch you, you'd rather have him not tease you at all.

sicheng looks at you through half-lidded eyes with a faint tug on his lips, "put my hand where you want it."

you drag his hand an inch upwards, and almost naturally, sicheng finds his fingers slipping under the fabric of your shorts. "fuck," he breathes out. "you're not wearing anything underneath?" you smirk, unable to say anything because if you did, he would know how insane the raspiness in his voice drove you.

the tips of his fingers trace along the folds of your cunt, smearing your wetness all over. your breath escapes you shakily, and he revels at the sight of you. god. he knew you were pretty but you've never looked prettier than when you're squirming under his touch.

he rubs a loose circle around your clit with his middle finger, eyes steadily watching your every expression. your whole body is electrified. you feel as though you've come alive just from his touch. then, he draws another. you sink your teeth down into your bottom lip, trying to keep your breathing at a constant. the hand that you have wrapped around his wrist untightens itself and it runs up sicheng's arm, nails digging themselves into his bicep as his fingers move faster and faster on you.

then, they slow right back down. your eyelids shutter open fully, looking at him watching you with a gentleness.

he eases one finger inside of you, engulfed into your warmth. a gasp falls upon you quickly followed by a moan, which sicheng muffles with his other hand. he shushes, "you can hold it in, can't you?" you nod your head against his hand covering your lips. so badly, you want to just scream out his name, but you can't.

then, he slides another finger inside. the two of them drag up and down your heated walls, coated in a slickness. you struggle to keep from sounding out noises that ultimately gets caught in your throat. you pull his hand down from your mouth, managing a breathy, "fuck, sicheng."

he continues shushing you, balanced out with a subdued, "i know, i know." the length of his fingers carries on diving deeper and deeper into you, his thumb working small loops on your clit. you can't help but grind down against his hand, meeting him halfway with every stroke. your own fingers replaces his thumb, rubbing so relentlessly that it makes you throw your head back.

you begin to feel a tightening in your core. each moan that comes out of you is strained and muffled, your sealed lips pressing together so hard that it starts to become numb. "i'm so close," you try to voice out but a broken string of whimpers fall out instead.

your knees impulsively push themselves together, trapping sicheng's hand in between your thighs. "yeah, like that, baby. just like that," he picks up the pace in which he plunges his fingers in and out of you, "keep it quiet, though, okay?"

at this point, you've lost focus on what he's saying. the only thing on your mind is how good his fingers feel inside of you, and the violent pressure that your own fingers are exerting isn't helping. your arm is starting to ache when you finally begin to feel the release in your core. the knot tied in your stomach falls apart and so do you. your hand stops and grabs onto sicheng's wrist again. each moan that's knocked out of you quickly transitions into you panting for air. all sicheng can do is caress your cheek as you slowly come down and steady yourself again against his embrace.

you lay there next to him as you're catching your breath. sicheng comforts you with words that you can't quite hear. you take his hand up to your face, fully shutting your legs together, and lick the slickness off of his fingers. he watches you with a groan as you take his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks. you pull his hand away slowly, and when your lips close together, he lets go of a deep sigh.

sicheng looks deeply into your eyes, the faintest trace of satisfaction visible on his face. "get some rest now, okay?"

a part of you doesn't want to just stop now, but the other part of you is worn out beyond repair, not just from this. your post-orgasm crash wears over you like a spell putting you to sleep, and you have no will left to fight it. so, before you know it, you drift off to sleep with sicheng's arms wrapped tightly around you and your face pressed up against his chest.

he wasn't supposed to and he wasn't planning to, but sicheng dozed off last night with you cuddled up against him. the only thought running through his head this morning: i fucked up. and that's only taking into account that he literally slept with you next to him.

the chorus of bird chirps sounds aloud from out in the garden. the bright symphonies fill the morning air.

as slowly as he can, he pulls his arm back from underneath you, a tingling feeling spreading from where your head laid upon it. hushedly, he slides his legs off of the edge of the bed, trying not to wake you. he stands up, and his movements are halted by a hum from you.

your eyes peer open, and sicheng is glancing back at you. "morning," he clears his throat, "i didn't want to wake you."

"it's alright," your voice scratches. you push yourself onto your palms and sit up, straightening your back. "um," you stutter out, looking around your bed to avoid any eye contact. there's an unspoken tension between you and sicheng that you can sense right away.

sicheng presses his thumb into the palm of his opposite hand and echoes your filler words.

you want to ask out loud, 'why is it so awkward?' but that will probably do nothing to help ease the atmosphere.

sicheng breaks the silence, "i shouldn't have... came in last night."

your eyes dart towards him, but he's looking down at your sheets. is it bad that you felt a sinking in your chest right as he said that? you didn't think you regretted what happened, but maybe you should given what sicheng's stance on it is.

"i don't..." you trail off, unable to finish the rest of your thought.

"it was my mistake. we don't... have to talk about it."

"is that what it was to you? a mistake?" words take over you before your rational thinking can catch up. if you really slowed down and thought it over, his words probably didn't warrant as much of a reaction, but in the moment, you're hurt and that's all you can focus on.

"no, i mean," sicheng struggles to find the proper words to expand on his point. as he opens his mouth again to speak, he's interrupted by someone else knocking at your door.

the knock is closely followed by a call out of your name, "miss ln!"

it distracts you from the conversation, but sicheng's comment is actively sitting on the back burner of your mind. "yes?" you return.

"your father has arranged some prior engagements for you. your chauffeur is waiting for whenever you're ready."

you can't help but let out your frustration in the form of a quiet 'ugh,' before going back and thanking the messenger, which they then dismiss themselves.

you're not in the mood for whatever errand your father has arranged for you. one, because your body is so physically tired out for some reason that even getting up out of bed will take a substantial amount of effort, and two, sicheng will follow you to whatever activity and there won't be a conclusion to this conversation you're having because there's no way you're willing to discuss this in public.

sicheng speaks up after the footsteps travel away from outside your bedroom door, "i'll leave you to get ready."

"don't-"

but sicheng completely disregards you, and leaves you alone in your room.

...

turns out that the 'errand' your father has planned for you was to pick out a few outfits from the atelier. this past week you've been so preoccupied busying yourself with activities that you haven't fully recognised that your father will officially announce you as his successor in a couple days' time. that means more responsibilities, more problems. you don't know if you're fully prepared for it, but it was never up to you; it never has been.

you posed like a mannequin for the seamstress for a good couple of hours. every blazer and every skirt being tailored to fit you perfectly. sicheng sat in the beige couch in the corner watching patiently as she took in your measurements, held up garment after garment up to you in the mirror, and finally was content with what she had created for you.

by the time you were done, you had a handful of bags in each hand, each containing a new bespoke outfit made just for you.

you're walking out of the studio with your new belongings in your hands, sicheng opening the door for you. the designer bids you an affectionate goodbye and you step out onto the concrete, heading for your ride parked in the middle of the lot.

during the whole of this visit, sicheng hasn't said a word to you. and vice versa. so when he's the first to say something, you try to look at him with an indifference in your expression.

"let me carry the bags," he offers.

"i'm alright, thank you."

you'd be lying if you said you weren't at least a little bit upset with him. although you knew there's nothing to be achieved from petty displays of stubbornness, you wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine: his nonchalance, and frankly apathetic attitude.

he doesn't challenge you, perhaps he knows better than to do exactly that. his footsteps trail behind you as you approach the car. your chauffeur pulls open the door to the backseats for you before returning to the driver's seat. sicheng simply observes as you begin to load in the bags, not wanting to tick you off even more by helping.

he catches a flare in the mirror image of the window panes all the way up on the rooftop of a nearby building. he swivels his head around, looking directly at where the spark was in the reflection. his throat tightens.

"yn, get in the car." the calmness in his voice wasn't something you weren't used to, but as you turn and find him fixated at a spot up on a roof, an alarm starts ringing in your head. "now."

you jump up onto the ledge of the footboard and hop inside with a slight panic. sicheng grabs all the remaining bags and throws it in with you. he hastily slams the back door shut and turns his focus towards that same spot again. you can barely see out of the tinted panes, but you think you hear a distant pop and sicheng's body jerks, curving his spine inwards. he clambers into the front seat, a hint of franticness in his movements. the passenger door shuts with a crash and sicheng flings his head back against the headrest.

"drive. go, now." he tells the chauffeur, clearly in a state of confusion, but he listens to sicheng. his voice is weak and breathy, like he just ran a marathon.

you push your way up to the space in between the front seats. "sicheng... what happened?" apprehension sounding out in your words.

he gives a faint shake of the head, his hand gripping tightly onto the fabric over his shoulder as he swallows a lump in his throat. you mutter a faint, 'oh my god,' under your breath as you go to pull his hand away.

sicheng breathes deeper and deeper. you uncover a small hole in his shirt, the edges splayed out with raw threads hanging off of it.

"sicheng-"

"i'm okay," he exhales. does he know how ridiculous he sounds?

a wave of distress suddenly overtakes you. "you're-"

"don't worry, i'm okay."

half of your mind has gone blank, and the other half is still stuck in 5 minutes ago before whatever happened, happened. words tumble out of you, laced with confusion and unease.

...

as soon as you arrive home, you barge in telling your housemaids to call over your doctor. sicheng has one arm wrapped around the chauffeur as he inches in with his help, his other arm limp by his side.

everything blurs past you.

sicheng is set down on the long leather couch, laying against the arm as he holds his shoulder. someone pushes past you to tend to sicheng's injuries, and all you can do is stand and stare.

...

you sit on the other end of the couch watching as the nurse is wrapping bandage around sicheng's shoulder, his torso completely bare. he grunts as she pulls tighter on the strip looping underneath his arm.

"you're lucky it didn't hit you in the ribs, or it'd be a lot worse."

sicheng mutters a soft, 'i know,' sucking in a steady breath.

the bullet sits in a tray next to the couch, completely clean, the light ricochets off of it and it gleams.

you look back over to sicheng, a deep burgundy already seeping its way underneath his skin. if it weren't for the bulletproof undershirt he was wearing, you'd be looking at admitting him into the ER. still, he's not completely devoid of any injuries.

the nurse said that aside from bruising, he had a fracture to his collarbone. "it should heal on its own anywhere in between 6 to 12 weeks."

you nod, and she gives you a brief smile before she helps fasten the sling around sicheng's neck and begins packing up her kit.

several sets of footsteps approach the doorway to the guest room that sicheng was set down in. you don't look over, eyes fixated on sicheng as he winces at any slight movement that he does affecting his injured collarbone.

the footsteps move in closer and closer to you. sicheng hears them as well and opens his eyes. "sir," he manages gravelly.

you and the nurse simultaneously look up, and there you see your father with his assistant a few steps behind him. he nods towards the nurse.

"the doctor couldn't make it on such short notice, but mr. dong's injuries are mild. i've already informed miss ln of mr. dong's condition," the nurse explains to your father.

"thank you for your help," your father tells the nurse. she picks up the kit that she brought with her and bows her head before leaving the room.

the expression on your father's face is ambiguous to say the least.

sicheng takes your father's silence as an opportunity, "i should've been more careful. i'm sorry..."

your father inhales shakily, "it was too close, yes." he looks over at you sitting on the couch, then back at sicheng, "but yn wasn't injured, and i have you to thank for that."

"it's my duty," sicheng simply responds.

your father gives him a satisfied smile. "take some time to rest, i'll have someone else look over your responsibilities for now."

with that, your father and his assistant leaves you and sicheng alone in the guest room, now allocated for his recovery.

you haven't said a word to him since the car ride back.

you sit on the edge of the couch, palms planted flat on either side of you. "does it hurt?" you look over, and sicheng leans on the sofa back, his injured arm suspended in a black mesh sling. his eyes are closed as he takes in a heavy breath after another.

he opens his eyes up to a squint, glancing over at you. "a bit," you think he's gone insane when you see a slight tug at the corner of his mouth.

you shift over towards sicheng, his unwounded shoulder being closer to you. the bandages the nurse had wrapped him up in doesn't entirely cover up his bruising. a gradient of pink, red, and purple spreads over atop his pecs. your fingers trace over his abdomen, hovering when you draw near his injury. "you scared me," you whisper.

"i know," sicheng says, "i'm sorry."

"why would you do that?"

he looks at you, a dazedness in his eyes, "do what?"

"take a bullet like that." you gulp, feeling the coarseness in your throat.

sicheng expels a weak chuckle. "to be honest, i didn't think i would." you peer at him with a tilt of your head. "i was so focused on you not getting hurt, but now that i think about it..."

he trails off.

"what?" you prompt gently.

"i don't think they were aiming at you."

your eyebrows raise themselves gingerly.

"i mean, they had every opportunity to... shoot you, but they didn't. with the time it took me to even notice them, they could've gotten the job done and vanished."

you realise what sicheng's implying. and you suppose he is right. thinking it over in your head, your reaction wasn't the fastest, given the state of shock and confusion that you were in. so, that means they were gunning for sicheng. but why?

he carries on, "and with where the bullet hit me—it was nowhere even near where you were stood." he shakes his head, "it just doesn't make sense."

"so, why?"

"i mean, i don't-"

"no. why would you ever risk yourself like this? a job like this; it surely isn't the first time you got injured."

sicheng looks at your face, so painstakingly close to his. he runs his good hand through your hair, twirling the ends of a strand in between his fingers. "it's not," he smiles weakly, but falls short of an answer to give to you.

you swallow hard. "you know, you've made it clear to me countless times that you're supposed to keep me safe... but who looks after you?"

"i can manage myself."

"i know—you're more than capable. but..." the words you're speaking has to be dragged out of you, a broken intonation. "that's not the same as looking after yourself."

he drops his gaze from yours, fingers now fidgeting and cracking his knuckles as a means of escape from this conversation.

"you don't let me kiss you, you want to forget whatever we did and dismiss it as a mistake. that's fine, but is that what you want, or is it just your guard?"

he turns his head towards yours, but still avoiding eye contact with you. for a moment, you thought he would say something, but he doesn't.

you sigh.

"just let me take care of you while your shoulder heals, okay? i'm here."

you're about to push yourself off of the couch, you lean back, but sicheng holds onto your hand. he draws you in to the spot you were at before. your faces inches apart from each other.

he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, "kiss me."

your heartbeat drums against your lungs. you slide your fingers up onto his face, pulling him in closer. and gently, you oblige.

his lips fit yours perfectly, as if you were both individually sculpted for each other. you try not to lean onto sicheng given his injury, so the most pressure you put on him is through your hands pulling him closer into you. you press your mouth against the softness of his lips, a tenderness to his movements. he breathes your scent in, and it's like it completely soothes the sharpness in his shoulder. you take him in deeper and deeper. his lips had a hint of peppermint to them, but sweeter. he let you utterly devour him against your own lips, fuelling a desire you didn't know you had in you. god, you didn't want to pull away, but your stupid, stupid lungs had to regather some air within them. and you part from him with a gentle smack.

sicheng's eyelids flutter open, like you'd just woken him from a dream. "if your father ever finds out-"

you shush him with a finger up to his mouth. and you attach your lips onto his again.

you're deep into your sleep when you hear alerts coming in nonstop on your phone. you stayed in sicheng's room with him; he's asleep on the bed and you've decided to give him more room by taking the couch. you open your eyes groggily, the sky outside doesn't make it clear to you what time it is. reaching out onto the coffee table, your phone doesn't stop buzzing in your hand.

the brightness of the screen causes you to squint. messages roll in, from dejun. without reading the notifications first, you click onto the grey bubbles. a litter of text threads open up on your phone. ones reading, "are you okay?" and "i heard what happened," and of the like.

stiffly, you go to type in a response. you tell dejun that you're fine, briefly glossing over the situation.

...

the second time you wake up this morning is when you hear sicheng talking to someone just outside of his room, the conversation muffled. he shuffles back in and you're more or less glaring at him, unintentionally.

"who was that?" you strain.

"um," he lightly massages the back of his neck. "they... found the shooter. and he talked."

that instantly catches your attention. you sit up straight, and signal to sicheng to take a seat next to you on the couch.

he slowly paces himself over, his back kept upright the entire time as he sits down next to you.

"the shooter is no one special, but," he begins, an almost sheepish look on him, "he told us who sent him. and we think that it's the same person who sent you that note, with your earring."

"who?" you jump in, impatient for him to tell you.

sicheng looks into your eyes for a split second. the sky outside is still dark. half of your face is lit by the orange ember that glows out from the fireplace.

"who?" you repeated, this time a little bit louder.

"i don't know how close you are to her. rin? full name, rina lee. her dad... owed some debts to your father."

your brows furrow. rin? you've only met her once, and that was at mrs. xiao's gala. what would prompt her to threaten you to such an extreme?

"i'm sorry, it must be-"

"no- what else do you know?"

sicheng sucks in a quick breath. "well, it's rumoured that her father, mr. lee, took a loan from your father. it was never paid back... and let's say your father didn't like that."

you didn't know what to make of your emotions—what to make of yourself. did you deserve this?

subconsciously, you start shaking your head lightly. you were in denial, but of what, you didn't know.

"i'm sorry," is all sicheng can say to provide you with some semblance of solace.

"i just..." you breathe out a heavy breath, "i can't believe it."

"i know, but it'll be over, soon. you'll take on your father's role tomorrow, isn't that something to look forward to?" sicheng tries his best to divert your focus away from the news.

you scoff. and then a sigh.

"i guess."

sicheng runs a hand over your head, smoothing over your hair, "let's go back to sleep, it's still early."

the whole of yesterday you spent getting ready, signing agreements, and attending meeting after meeting with your father. you'd spent the night before tossing and turning, unsure of if you'd be happy with this route that you're headed in.

last night, you were doing the same. tossing, turning, thinking. you never really had a choice, and it's weird how you feel apathetic towards that.

you've always lived comfortably and maybe you're just not ready for that to change yet, that's what you thought to yourself.

you woke up this morning, still a bit shaken up, mind still fuzzied from how your life has spiralled seemingly out of your control over the last week.

and now you're standing behind the drawn back curtain to the balcony, where your father's speech is being broadcasted live.

"serving as mayor to this beautiful district has been one of my greatest prides. but i'm afraid people grow old, and i am experiencing that for myself first hand."

your father's voice wavers, and it stings your cheeks a little.

"nonetheless, i know there has been rumours going around surrounding my retirement. i would like to keep this concise. today, i am officially stepping down as the mayor of district V, and appointing my daughter to serve the rest of my term." he turns towards you, hand stretching out in your direction, and you step out onto the landing.

your father steps aside to grant you some space on the podium. you take a deep breath in, before crouching down slightly to speak into the microphone.

"it is my honour to be appointed the role of mayor for a district as notable and celebrated as district V." you recite the script that your father's assistant had written for you, the syllables drilled into your brain throughout all the practices yesterday.

you remember the words that the assistant had said to you, 'this district's citizens don't care much for politics. they just want to know if they can continue living in their merry way as they did before.'

"i will see to it that this transition is as seamless as possible, and i will do my best to humbly serve each and every citizen to the best of my ability. thank you."

you back away from the podium and disappear off where it is visible on the landing. your father continues on delivering the rest of his spiel.

it's been less than a minute since you've officially accepted your new position, but you can already feel a tightening around your chest. you plop down on a chair all the way on the opposite end of the balcony, thinking it over again. is this what you want?

that's when you catch sicheng peering into the room from the hallway.

"what are you doing here? you should be resting," you jump up onto your feet.

"i didn't get to see you yesterday, so i thought i should at least congratulate you today."

you sigh, and plaster a grin onto your face, "thank you."

sicheng takes one step closer to you. "so, miss mayor, i suppose i'm no longer at your service?"

slowly, you can feel a genuine smile twinging at your lips, "you wish." you swiftly glance over at where your father is, back still facing you. you steal a quick peck from sicheng. he looks at you with his eyes wild.

"what?" you tease.

even though you're not sure the path given to you is what you want, you know that as long as sicheng is by your side, you'll manage to find joy in the little moments. the stolen kisses. and the fleeting glances.

and it's not for ever, anyway. just until this term ends.

"you are now under me," you whisper with a smirk.

humming, he raises his eyebrows with interest. "so, what's the first order of business?"

you roll your eyes. "focus on healing your shoulder up, and then we'll talk."

he leans in closer to your face, a cheeky spark in his eyes. "yes, ma'am."

© misted-dream 2024

thank you for reading between heaven and hell ! this fic is a part of a series which you can learn more about here ! hope you enjoyed :)

[luvu2themoonand2saturn]

your valentine, forever

joe burrow x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ content!!! smut, vaginal fingering, praise kink (reader), pet names galore, established relationship, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, soft dom joe, dirty talk, smidge of cum eating??? idfk, there’s also lots of soft and cutesy fluff sprinkled throughout

word count: 4.6k

note: vday fic is finally here, only a week late! used a prompt from the incredibly talented @scealaiscoite in this fic - their fluff prompts are literally the sweetest things <3 prompt is bolded in the fic! also a little treat for swifties in this one! hope you enjoy this smutty fluffy shitshow <3

“Joe! Can you come and zip up my dress?” you called to him from your en suite, where you were getting ready for your Valentine’s date night.

“Be right there, sweetheart,” he responded from your bedroom as he shrugged into his white button down, not bothering to do it up before giving you a hand. He stepped through the doorway that separated you, met with the sight of your back, bare except for the strips of delicate black lace that made up the straps and band of your bra, exposed between the unzipped panels of your dress. It was a classic little black number, with sheer sleeves that ended in cuffs at your wrists. The hem hit just above your knees, your collarbone and upper chest revealed by the v-neck cut.

“Baby, my god,” he said, eyes raking up and down your frame, gaze heated as he took in everything that was revealed to him and savoured the knowledge of everything that was hidden that he would get to touch, to kiss, to caress later that night.

You blushed, helplessly flustered. “Do it up, love, it’ll look better then,” you replied quietly.

“Hard to imagine you getting any prettier,” he said, but he did as you asked and zipped you up before his hands slid down your waist to rest on your hips, his lips dipping down to meet your neck. Your eyes drifted closed as you tilted your head to the side, sighing softly as he pressed kisses along the sensitive skin, working up to the spot behind your ear you especially loved to feel his lips on you.

He gently nipped your earlobe, murmuring, “So goddamn beautiful, babygirl.”

You squirmed around in his hold so you were facing him, eye level with his bare, beautifully sculpted chest. Your hands danced along the ridges of his abs, sliding around to rest on his lower back as you peered up at him. “You don’t look half bad yourself,” you said, pressing a lingering kiss to the bare skin of his chest.

He cupped your face in one warm palm, leaning down to kiss you, while the other hand pressed against your hip, guiding you to step backwards as he walked you towards the bathroom countertop. His lips remained locked with yours as his tongue slipped into your mouth, drawing one of those pretty whimpers from your mouth that he loved so much. When you bumped into the edge of the countertop, both of his hands slid down to cup your ass, easily lifting you onto the marble surface.

He stood between your legs, moving his lips to your neck, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses to the column of your throat. One of his hands massaged up your thigh, slipping under the hem of your dress, straying closer to the black lace of your panties, already soaked through. Your legs wrapped around him, holding him in place against you as your hands tangled in his soft blonde hair.

Detaching his lips from your neck with a wet pop, he pressed a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth as one of his knuckles ghosted over your clothed clit, the slightest touch, but it still made you arch your back into him, trying to regain the contact. “May I?” he asked, voice low and husky with need.

“Please, Joe,” you half mumbled, half whimpered, craving, wanting, needing his hands on you, in you.

Through the haze of desire clouding your mind, you recalled what you had originally been getting ready for in the bathroom. “Joe,” you whispered breathily. “Our dinner reservation.”

“Let a man enjoy his appetizer, pretty baby,” he mumbled against your skin. “Y’know I can make this quick when I need to.”

You giggled at his last comment, but you weren’t going to argue it. He was right.

He pushed the fabric of your panties to the side, before he slid two fingers down towards your entrance, feeling the wetness seeping from your core, already dripping for him. “Fuck,” he groaned, fingers teasingly circling your opening. “So fucking wet for me. Always ready for me, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

Your only response was a needy moan as you tried to grind your hips against his fingers, desperate for more. He couldn’t resist your whimpers, slipping one thick finger inside you, adding another after a moment. “Shit,” he grunted through gritted teeth. “Can’t wait to be inside you later, babygirl.”

“Joe,” you moaned as he pumped his fingers steadily in and out of your weeping cunt.

“Does it feel good, sweetheart?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the edge of your jaw. You only whimpered in response, prompting him to add, “Use your words, tell me how good I make you feel.”

“You make me feel so good, Joe, it’s so good,” you cried out as his fingers curled to brush the soft spot inside you that sent agonizing spasms of pleasure throughout your body.

“Good girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Maintaining the speed of his fingers inside you, he pressed his thumb against your clit, the added friction causing you to grind yourself against his hand.

“Don’t stop,” you whimpered, your eyes closing as you felt your orgasm building in your tummy.

Just as you felt a gasp of pleasure rising in your throat, Joe’s phone on the countertop beside you rang, grabbing your attention. “Joe,” you started, seeing it was a local number.

With his free hand, he guided your head back to face him, keeping his hand on your cheek to hold you in place. “Shh, baby, don’t worry about it, c’mon, you’re almost there,” he said soothingly, feeling your walls fluttering around his fingers, still pumping deep into your cunt. “C’mon baby, focus for me, you can do it,” he urged you, keeping his thumb rubbing small circles against your clit. His words drowned out the sound of the phone ringing, as all of your attention returned to him. Where he was on you, around you, in you. “Let go for me, pretty girl, show me how good you are. C’mon.”

You gasped as the first wave of your orgasm broke, brought on by his soft spoken words, as your head fell back against the mirror and you ground your hips down onto his hand to glean every last ounce of pleasure from your release. You shuddered, grabbing his bicep to steady yourself. “Fuck, Joe,” you groaned, out of breath.

“That’s my girl,” he said, satisfied, as he pulled his fingers from your cunt and grabbed his phone with his clean hand, hitting answer just before it went to voicemail.

“This is Joe speaking,” he said into the phone. While whoever was on the other side spoke, he stuck the two wet fingers that had just been inside you into his mouth, silently sucking them clean. Your legs were still entwined around him, keeping him between them. You leaned into him, cheek pressed to his chest and arms around his waist, as his free arm looped around to your back, hand softly rubbing up and down as you recovered from your orgasm.

You weren’t listening to the crackly voice on the other end of the line, but you noticed he had frowned at whatever was being said, and you subconsciously mimicked his expression in concern.

“Yeah, that’s okay. Alright. Sounds good. Bye,” he said, hanging up.

“What is it?” you asked, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him.

“Bad news, sweetheart,” he said. “That restaurant you wanted to go to fucked up their reservations and overbooked, so they cancelled us because we were the last to reserve a spot.”

Your face fell. “What!? We booked it months ago!” Although you and Joe usually preferred to stay in for date nights, for Valentine’s Day you always made an effort to actually go out, making up for all the anniversaries and birthdays spent at home in bed, drinking wine and making love. You had booked a spot at an upscale restaurant nearby your home weeks in advance, somewhere you’d never eaten before.

Joe interrupted your thoughts when he said, “I know, honey, but we can go another time. To make it up to us they’re covering our bill next time we’re there.”

“That’s nice,” you conceded, but he could still read the disappointment in your face as you tucked your cheek back against his chest.

“Hey, look at me,” he said softly, gently grabbing your chin and urging you to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. “We’re still going to have an amazing night, sweets. I promise.”

“But you were so excited to go to this place! You’ve been talking about it for months,” you said dejectedly.

“Baby, the restaurant isn’t what was going to make this a special night. I just want to spend time with you.” During the football season, it often felt like you barely saw each other. Joe was often out of town, and when he wasn’t, you were working long days. It seemed like the only time you had together was over breakfast and dinner and then five minutes cuddling in bed before you fell into a deep sleep, drained from work. “I’d rather do nothing with you than anything with someone else,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

You took a deep breath, letting some of the tension out of your shoulders. “Same,” you murmured in response.

“Would another orgasm cheer you up?” he asked cheekily, smirking. “Now the reservation’s cancelled we have no time restraints.”

You lightly hit his chest, laughing. “I need to eat something first. You’re insatiable, Burrow.”

“Hard not to be when my girl is so goddamn beautiful. I’ll never be able to get enough of you. Speaking of how pretty you look,” he murmured. “I’ve got one thing for you. C’mere.” He helped you off the counter, your legs still quivering, guiding you back into your bedroom and gesturing for you to take a seat on the king sized bed. He fumbled in the drawer of his bedside table, pulling out a teal Tiffany and Co. bag.

“Joe! You didn’t have to do that!” you exclaimed, accepting the bag when he offered it to you. “You’ve already done so much for me today, sweet boy.”

He settled himself beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your clothed shoulder as he murmured, “It’s nothing, sweetheart. Just a little something.” Everything was “just a little something” to him, from the massive bouquet of roses you’d found in the kitchen when you had gone downstairs that morning to the hot breakfast he’d made for you (and made of you).

You pulled a box out of the tissue paper in the bag, opening it to find a note sitting on top that read, “Because I really know you.”

“Stop,” you gasped, lifting up the paper to reveal a necklace adorned with a simple circular pendant bearing a cursive letter “J.” “Joe, that is so sweet.” You turned to wrap your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “What did I do to deserve you?” you wondered aloud.

“You deserve the world, sweetheart. You always have,” he responded. “Here, let me put it on you.” He gingerly lifted the chain from the box as you swept your hair off your neck, allowing him to lay it across your collarbone and clasp it in the back, not without some difficulty. “Why do they make these things so goddamn small?”

You laughed. “C’mon, Joe, you’ve done this before.”

“Yeah, but this one seems even smaller than they normally are,” he muttered, focused on uniting the clasp and chain, which he eventually succeeded in doing. “Go look in the mirror, sweets, tell me what you think.”

You stood, re-entering the bathroom to admire the chain around your neck, the J pendant resting against your upper chest, identifying you as his.

“It’s beautiful, Joe, thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it. It suits you. Now, dinner,” he started, as he began buttoning his shirt up. “Where will it be? We haven’t got much in the house.”

“What about that grab and go sushi place? We haven’t been there in a bit and god I feel like I could eat fifty pieces of tempura right now. And we just have to pick it up so we won’t have to worry about that fact that everywhere is full tonight.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I cannot wait to wow the world in this dress for three entire minutes while we pick it up,” you said sarcastically.

“You’ll be wowing me for a lot longer than three minutes, sweet cheeks,” he said, giving your bum a pinch as he walked by to pull his suit jacket off of a hanger. It matched his dress pants, a gorgeous crimson satin.

“I should think so,” you shot back, giving him a look.

After you applied one last swipe of lip gloss and Joe was satisfied with how his hair was falling, you both put on your shoes before descending the stairs to the front door of your home. Joe held your hand, rather tightly, as you walked down the stairs, prompting you to give him a quizzical look. He was a gentleman, absolutely, but he knew you could walk down the stairs in your own house just fine. “Not letting go of you until you’re back on solid ground,” he said, eyeing your heels with a look of distrust.

You laughed, still smiling at his antics when he opened the passenger side door of his car for you, brushing a kiss to your knuckles with a joking, “M’lady.”

“Why thank you, Joe,” you replied, laughing.

He hopped into the driver’s side, starting up the car. He turned up the heat, as he always did when you were riding with him. He was prone to overheating, but you tended to be chilly, something he was always mindful of. He rested his warm palm on your thigh, bare where your dress had ridden up, absentmindedly stroking his thumb across your skin while singing along under his breath to the chorus of the song on the radio.

The night sky was clear, and a bright moon cast a soft glow on the road. It had rained earlier, leaving the pavement shining, reflecting the light.

After a short drive, Joe pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall. Most of the shops were closed, their windows dark, but the sushi place was still open. Through the windows, you could see couples eating in the dimly lit dining area. Joe hopped out of the driver’s side to open your door for you, shrugging out of his suit jacket and draping it over your shoulders when you shivered as the cold February night air blew over you.

While waiting in line to pay for the sushi you had chosen from the grab and go refrigerator, you admired a piece of artwork on the wall, eyeing the price tag, unaware that Joe was busy admiring you. He loved seeing you out in public in that gorgeous dress with his initial resting around your neck, his blazer draped over your shoulders, knowing he was the only one who would ever get to take you out and take you home.

He slid an arm around your waist, bending down to whisper, “This dress looks phenomenal on you, sweetheart, but I can’t wait to take it off.”

“Joe!” you exclaimed under your breath, your cheeks warming with a blush. “What if someone heard!”

“No one heard, lovely, don’t worry,” he soothed you. Joe paid for your sushi, tipping the servers generously. With your trays of sushi packed away in a brown paper bag that rested on your lap in the passenger seat, you began the brief drive home.

“Do we have any wine in the fridge?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Of course we do, sweetheart. One bottle of white and a bottle of bubbly, whatever you prefer.”

“Perfect.”

Once back at home, Joe directed you to sit on the couch in the living room, but you insisted on changing out of your dress first. “This wasn’t made for cuddling on the couch,” you said as you dashed upstairs with him right on your heels.

“Neither was this suit.”

You dressed in clothes more suitable for the cozy occasion, you in one of his large tees adorned with an illustration of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck (the man loved his cartoons) and a pair of flannel pajama pants, while he pulled on those ridiculous Seinfeld sweats. He pulled you in for a kiss, whispering, “No one else could make Looney Tunes and pjs look just as sexy as a black dress and heels.”

“I don’t think anyone else could pull off these Seinfeld sweats,” you whispered back, slipping two fingers into the waistband, brushing against his pelvic bone and pulling back, allowing the elastic to snap back into place before you turned and exited the room, leaving him hanging.

You headed downstairs into the living room while he disappeared into the kitchen. You fiddled absentmindedly with the new pendant around your neck while you awaited his return. He stepped into the living room, carrying a tray, upon which rested your sushi, neatly plated on a ceramic dish, alongside a bottle of bubbly. He grasped two champagne flutes in his free hand.

“Good evening, ma’am. Welcome to Burrow’s Fine Dining, the most prestigious restaurant in Cincinnati. Your food,” he said, setting the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch, where you sat curled up under a blanket, smiling like an idiot at his act. “Might I interest you in a glass of our house champagne?” he asked officially, displaying the bottle to you.

“You might,” you replied, laughing. He filled a flute, passing it to you delicately, clearly waiting for you to take a sip. You did, holding his gaze. “Fabulous. The best I’ve ever had. I also like the uniform here,” you said suggestively, eyes flicking between his bare chest and the blue sweatpants slung low on his hips.

“Only the best for our customers,” he said with a wink. “Please let any of our staff know if you need anything else,” he said, turning as if about to walk away.

“Hey! Staff! Could you find a Mr. Joe Burrow for me? We’re meant to be on a date, but he still hasn’t showed.”

He spun back around, smiling, raising his arms. “Here he is!”

“You’re an idiot, Joe,” you said, most lovingly. “Come and sit, baby.”

He joined you on the couch, pouring his own flute of champagne. “Just wanted to show you we can have a perfect night even without that restaurant. The service at home is just as good,” he said, propping his legs on the coffee table as he leaned back, sipping his champagne.

You rested your head against his shoulder. “I think the service at home is even better,” you murmured. “Thank you, Joe.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

You ate your sushi together on the couch, losing your mind when Joe overestimated his tolerance for wasabi and ended up with tears running down his red cheeks as you just choked on your own laughter, passing him a tissue. The bottle of champagne steadily emptied alongside the platter of food, as Joe’s laughs became heartier, your giggles more forthcoming, both of your cheeks growing rosier.

Joe set his champagne flute on the coffee table, taking yours from your hand without explanation. “About that other orgasm,” he began, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting your face towards his.

“Mmm?” you hummed.

“You gonna be a good girl and let me have it?” he asked, his pupils dilating with unfiltered lust.

Warmth pooled in your core, anticipation fluttering in your stomach as you nodded. “Whenever you want it.” You closed the distance between your lips, connecting them with a passionate, breathless kiss.

His hands guided your body to lay down on the couch, keeping his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth. You felt his hard cock on your leg through his sweatpants, and your hands went to his waistband, unsuccessfully trying to push it further down.

“What do you want, baby?” Joe asked teasingly, as if you hadn’t made it perfectly clear.

“Want these off,” you whimpered.

He shimmied his sweats and boxers down and off his legs as you lifted your hips to impatiently strip off your panties and pj pants, awkwardly wriggling on the couch, your sole focus getting it off and getting his warm body back on you. He helped you pull your his tee over your head, his practiced hands unclasping your bra and tossing it onto the carpet beside the couch, leaving you entirely bare beneath him.

His hands ran along your body, down your waist, over the curve of your hips, gripping the flesh of your ass while his head dipped down to take one of your hard nipples into his mouth. His tongue flicked against the sensitive bud as you arched up into him, whimpering his name, which somehow made him even harder. His lips popped off your nipple, giving it one flat lick before switching to the other, mumbling, “You’re fucking perfect, babygirl.” As he sucked your nipple, one of his hands found your core, groaning as he felt your soaked entrance.

Tangling your hands in his hair, you pulled his head from your chest back up to your face, desperately attaching your lips to his as you tried to grind up against his cock.

Breaking apart your needy, messy kiss, he asked, “You ready for me, baby?” Both of your lips were plump and red, glistening with each other’s saliva.

“Please, Joe,” you begged, aching for him, feeling wet beads of his precum on your thigh.

He spat into his palm before reaching between your bodies to give himself a couple firm strokes before he lined up with your weeping entrance. He began slipping his cock into you, grunting at the feel of your tight, wet heat wrapping so perfectly around him. You squirmed underneath him, adjusting around his size, filling and stretching you just right. “Relax for me, baby,” he said through gritted teeth, slowly easing into you until he bottomed out. “Lemme know when you’re ready for me to move,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“‘M ready,” you mumbled.

He began thrusting, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in. He rested his head in the crook of your neck, pressing wet kisses and sucking marks into the soft skin as he grunted with each thrust. “So tight for me, baby, so wet, fuck.”

Your hands scratched at his back, leaving red marks in their wake, as you let out breathy, open-mouthed moans. “Sound so pretty for me, baby,” he grunted. Using one hand, he lifted one of your legs up, bending your knee, allowing him to thrust deeper into you.

“Oh, Joe, fuck!” you cried out at the intensified sensations, his strokes hitting every spot inside of you perfectly in the new position. Ecstasy coursed through your veins, lighting your skin on fire, and when Joe started toying with your sensitized clit, you felt ready to explode, the force of your pleasure so strong it almost hurt. You whimpered in his ear, grinding your hips against his hand, and he sensed that you were close.

“Cum for me, baby, c’mon. Cum on my cock, my good girl, that’s it,” he said as he sensed your orgasm breaking. You cried out, your fucked out frame shuddering beneath him as your walls clenched down around him. He maintained the rhythmic pace of his movements, allowing you to ride out your high, stopping himself from chasing his own orgasm until he knows yours is complete.

When the tension of release leaves your body and you fall limp beneath him, your eyes drifting shut while you catch your breath, he speeds up his thrusts, his breath hot on your shoulder as he moans. His hips are snapping against yours, the vulgar sounds of your wet cunt filling the room as he fucks you hard and fast. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he grunts. His body stills above you as you feel the warmth of his release fill you, his teeth gently grazing your shoulder as the force of his pleasure washes over him.

He let more of his weight fall on you as he caught his breath, his sturdy body against yours while he was still buried deep within you the best feeling. “God, that was so good, Joe,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple, his head still hidden in your shoulder.

“You’re incredible, baby. So damn good for me, everytime,” he said softly. He shifted onto his elbows, pressing a peck to your lips. “So lucky to have you, my beautiful girl.”

“I’m so lucky to have you, my pretty boy,” you echoed, as you brushed a stray curl from his forehead, fingers grazing his jawline. Your yawn interrupted the moment, as your hands went to cover your face.

“Time to head upstairs?” Joe asked, smiling.

“Mhm, I want to be in bed but I don’t want to move,” you grumbled, holding him against your chest with arms wrapped firmly around him. “One more minute here.”

After a few more minutes of just resting in each other’s embrace, exchanging giggly kisses and soft praises, he slowly pulled out of you. He stood, tugging his sweats on, leaving you bare on the couch. You grabbed a blanket to cover yourself, the room suddenly chilly without him on top of you.

“Be right back,” he said, picking up the dirty dishes from the table and heading to the kitchen, where he deposited them in the sink. He’d do them in the morning - they could wait while he spent time loving his girl.

He returned to the living room, where he bent down to tuck the blanket more tightly around you, before gathering you, blanket and all, against his chest, easily supported by his strong arms.

“Thank you,” you mumbled sleepily, nuzzling your head into his chest. With you in his arms, he did his nightly rounds of the downstairs floor, flicking off light switches and double checking the doors were locked, before heading upstairs, nudging the door of your bedroom open with his foot.

He laid you gently on the bed, heading over to open up your closet door. He grabbed himself a fresh pair of boxers and one of his long sleeve tees for you. He changed before helping you stand up, sliding the shirt over your head.

“I’m so tired,” you said, yawning as you walked into your ensuite on shaky, post-orgasm legs.

His hand came to your lower back to steady you. “We’ll have you cozy in bed soon, sweet girl.”

After using the bathroom, brushing your teeth, and taking off your makeup, you crawled gratefully into bed, immediately rolling over towards Joe’s side where you could snuggle into his inviting warmth. He slipped under the covers beside you, flicking off the bedside lamp and wrapping his arms around you.

"Thank you for everything today, Joe. You're the best Valentine ever. I love you so much," you murmured in sleepy contentment.

"I love you too, sweetheart. Is it too early to ask you to be my Valentine again next year?" he asked quietly.

"I'll be your Valentine next year and every year after that, forever."

"Good. I'd never want anyone else."

[bakubunny]

bkg smut hc: thoughts on mean katsuki

contrary to some of my own writing, i don’t think katsuki’s that into degradation or rough sex. sure, he would be great at it - if it was something he wanted. but he’s the type who deeply cares about his partner and can’t imagine intentionally hurting them in the bedroom. you’d have to be the one to ask for it, and he’d start out pretty slow with it if he’s never done it before. sprinkle in lots of enthusiasm and encouragement on your part, and eventually he might come around to it.

if he does grow to enjoy it, just like everything else in life, he goes in hard - he’ll give you as much as you can take. even then, though, he’s intently focused on how you respond because he’s still a little scared of going too far. and he’ll always want reassurance afterwards because he needs to know that you still love him just the same and that you wanted every bit of it.

but dilf!katsuki (40+) though? he’s been around long enough to have experienced how much some people enjoy it. he’s not afraid to say nasty shit or rough you up in the slightest.

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

hey, can you please write sub! lowkey masochist! kappa smut where he’s like totally obsessed with the reader and devoted? and he also has a hair pulling kink🤭

ARF ARF ARF! BARKING RIGHT AT IT!...and by that, I mean I added some puppy play because I like giving y'all a little whiplash 😘🐶

Worship

Summary: Kappa is begging to be touched. That's really all you need to know.

Pairing: Kappa x fem!Reader

Content Warnings: Kinky Smut 18+!, Two Idiots In Love Your Honor, Dry Humping, Affectionate Petnames, A Sprinkle Of Dumbification, Puppy Play Because Deep Down Kappa Just Wants To Be A Good Boy, One Sloppy Handjob, Premature Orgasm, So Much Begging, So Much Gratitude For Reader, A Teeny Tiny Bit Of Crying

Word Count: ~1,4k

A/N: I feel like I'm becoming more and more unhinged by every new fic and I love that for me.

Tagging the hoe squad (gender neutral!):

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @alalalaaallaaalaaa @bvg-w1res @milsthouqhts @roryculkinsbf @roryculkinsgf @amayalul

Weigh down on me

Stay till morning

Way down, would you say I'm worthy?

- Just Pretend by Bad Omens

Turning another page from the book that you were reading, you smiled to yourself softly. Gentle snoring blubbered out of Kappa’s half-way closed mouth, his head resting on your chest. He must’ve fallen asleep while your free hand had toyed around with frizzy strands of his black hair. You couldn’t blame him, not even the slightest bit, for just dozing off. If you just could, you would’ve, too, but a relentlessly racing mind kept you awake. All the what if’s, the uncertainties mixed with a heaping pile of overthinking was hardly shut down by the light reading you did, but at least it helped somehow.

Yawning a little, you placed the book onto the concrete floor right next to the old mattress and leaned yourself back against the wall, careful not to wake Kappa. Your gaze wandered down to his sleeping body. He looked so beautifully calm and relaxed all curled up into your arm like that…vulnerable even. You felt your heart swelling in your chest at the sight in front of you. You knew that he trusted you but sometimes it’s the little things that really hammered it down home.

“Such a good and pretty boy…” You whispered under your breath and placed a loving kiss to his head, inhaling his scent for a moment before you closed your eyes in a new attempt to find some sleep.

You didn’t really believe in it but you could at least give it another try, right?

To soothe your ever so loud thoughts, you concentrated on Kappa’s slow, peaceful breathing, acknowledging the tiny snores falling from his lips here and there and enjoying how his cheek felt all warm against your chest. For a second you wondered whether he’d fallen asleep listening to your heartbeat. At times he liked doing that.

“Huh…?” For a split second you were, in fact, about to drift off a little but then you felt Kappa pressing his form closer to you.

Curious as to what was going on, you opened one eye just enough to let your view wander downwards.

“Oh…” The corners of your lips curled upwards into an intrigued grin as you realized how he rolled his hips against your thigh, pressing his crotch to your skin in subconscious movements.

“Are we having nice dreams, huh?” Your voice barely audible and more of an amused comment to yourself as you opened both eyes to watch him.

In slow yet surprisingly aimed, little thrust of his hips against your thigh Kappa was dry humping you and you bit down on your bottom lip, feeling the rising heat from the friction of skin grinding against skin. With every small movement his hardening cock stroke over your thigh, the first eager droplets of pre-cum pooling at its head.

“You’re such a horny boy, no?” It rolled over your tongue in a light chuckle as you watched him, wondering what was going on in that dreamworld of his.

With your mind a little absent, your hand wandered back to the mess that was his hair, your fingers entangling themselves deep into it before carefully grabbing a whole fistful. You pulled slowly yet steady, dragging his head back inch by inch until his face pointed right at yours, the sensation apparently enough to wake him up just a bit.

“Uh..?” Kappa looked at you with half-lidded eyes, his voice drowsy and raspy.

“Naughty…” You stated, the grin still playing around your lips.

For a good moment he was completely oblivious to what was going on but after a few deep breaths Kappa must’ve started to grasp the situation he was in as his eyes widened.

“ ‘M sorry, I..” He started scooting away from you, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Oh no, you stay right there, naughty boy!” Your demand hit him in a serious tone as you yanked him right back to you, your hand still tightly intertwined with his hair.

At that a needy moan erupted straight out of his throat.

“Oh, you like when I do that?” The words had hardly left your mouth before you pulled his hair tighter, more vigorous.

“Yes, Ma’am…yes..” Kappa mewled, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief instance.

It sent a seething hot pang of arousal directly down between your legs seeing him like this, hearing his already desperate voice addressing you like that.

“Good boy…you really need me right now, don’t you?” You teased him, looking straight into his bright, steel blue eyes.

“Yeah..” He admitted, staring back at you with a silent plea.

“Yeah, what? Use your big boy words, Kappa.” Another jolt of longing rippled through your system.

“I need you, Ma’am.”, Kappa answered, his entire face flushed with a soft tint of red, “C-could you please touch me, Ma’am?”

“Hmm…”, You tilted your head to the side, “Where do you want Ma’am to touch you, huh?”

It took everything out of you to not grin widely as you witnessed how Kappa blushed even harder, his jaws clenching as the need for your attention and his own embarrassment fought for the high ground.

“Hmhmm, please..” His body squirmed as his crotch jutted against your thigh once more.

“No, no…”, You drew his head back by his hair a little further, mimicking a sympathetic frown on your face, “If you don’t tell me where, I guess I can’t help you, puppy.”

"My cock…", Kappa pressed out reluctantly," 'M so horny right now, Ma'am."

"Oh, I can see that.", You chuckled a little,"Then be a good puppy for me and beg."

Kappa nodded slightly, his pupils blown wide and his cheeks tinted red. His facial expression an already fucked out stare before anything even really happened, not a single thought left behind his slightly watery eyes.

"P-please…please touch my cock, Ma'am, I…I can't help myself but I'm so so fucking horny right now, Ma'am.", It cascaded right from of his quivering lips,"I..I'm just your dumb little puppy, Ma'am! Please…please…."

You couldn't deny it, his desperate begging made your cunt clench and throb. It was so deliciously pathetic.

"Hmm…I'm not really convinced, puppy." You shrugged your shoulders and Kappa looked like he was close to crying out of desperation, faint tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

"Fuck… please, babe…I mean Ma'am, shit! Please, I need you to touch my cock…'m just your stupid, brainless puppy, Ma'am!"

"Hmhmm..see? That more like it.." You sat up straight and your free hand reached down between Kappa's legs, palming his twitching hard on.

He mewled at the touch and a few wayward tears started running down his flushed cheeks.

"T-thank you, Ma'am…good god, fuck..thank you!" He rambled as you let go of his hair.

Sobbing a little in relief, Kappa hid his face in your shoulder, pressing his head to your skin.

"I'm to thankful that you touch me, Ma'am.." The words got lost in your shoulder whilst you started stroking his thoroughly pre-cum smeared cock in languid, fast thrusts.

"I know…I know…", Your voice soft as you whispered against his forehead, "You're such a good little plaything for me, aren't you? I love you so much, puppy."

"I-I love you too..so fucking much…ah, fuck." Kappa's body turned rigid in your touch and a surprised gasp left your mouth as hot, sticky spurts of his cum covered your hand.

"I'm sorry…" He sniffled, his voice coarse.

"Oh, no…it's okay, babe. You were just so horny, don't you worry." You pressed a loving kiss to his forehead.

"But how about my good puppy now cleans up the mess he made?"

[heerated]

JOIN ME ? — 박성훈 !

┄﹐## kinktober day two | SHOWER SEX. 💬⛓️

roomate!sunghoon x f!reader ! g. smut, roomate au

synopsis. you recently lost your job, which worried sunghoon that money might be tight, so he proposed an impromptu shower to save money on the water bill. warn! cursing, shower sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), fingering, breeding wc. 1.5k

kinktober masterlist.

you slammed the door to your apartment that you shared with your roomate, sunghoon, and threw your jacket and purse on the floor not long after. you heard footsteps instantly making their way to the living room. sunghoon looked at you, as you had an angry expression raging on your face for a reason he didn’t know of. he cocked his eyebrow up at you and said, "what happened?"

"as if you care!" you shouted at him as you plopped yourself down on the couch, crossing your arms over one another. you think that, since you and sunghoon were roommates, you’d be even the slightest bit close to each other. you’re not. he barely even acknowledged you and always had his friends over, pretending as if you didn’t live there along with him. him asking you what happened to explain why you’re angry just made you even angrier.

he put his hands up in the air, turning around to return back to his bedroom. "my job just fired me," you sighed, giving into his question. you had a soft spot for sunghoon even though you didn’t know him all that well. he stopped in his place, swinging back around to stare at you with wide eyes. "they what?!?"

"shut the fuck up, sunghoon. i don’t wanna hear your shit." you weren’t in the mood at all to hear him ask you a bunch of questions pertaining to how you got fired. sunghoon ran his hands through his hair as he paced back and forth in the living room as you watched him from your place on the couch.

"you know rent has been getting really tight lately, y/n. i can't just pay it on my own," sunghoon says to you before shaking his head and sitting right next to you on the couch. you rolled your eyes before lifting yourself up from the couch. "sunghoon, i don’t want to hear it. i’ll get a new job before rent is due. god you’re so fucking selfish."

sunghoon sat and stared at the floor as you stormed off to your own bedroom. he didn’t mean to make you more upset; just the thought of not having enough money for rent really stressed him out.

later that night, you heard a soft knock at your door that could only be the knock of sunghoon. "what?" you yelled in a blank tone as you continued to read the book in your hands. the door opened, causing you to look up from your book, revealing a shirtless sunghoon in his casual nighttime sweatpants.

"i have to shower. and i know you do too," sunghoon says to you, lifting his arm to rest it on your doorway. you closed your book and turned to look at him with your eyebrows furrowed "okay and?" "we have to save as much water as we can to keep the water bill cheap now."

"don’t tell me you’re saying what i think you’re saying," you sternly said to him. sunghoon smirks and nods, "i am. so come join me, babe." "no! are you crazy?" you shouted at him and jumped off your bed to push him out of your room. he didn’t budge as he remained in your doorway, the smirk never leaving his face.

he leaned down suddenly, lifting you up by your legs to throw you over his shoulder before walking over to his bedroom. you kicked and threw hits at his back that he could barely feel. once you made it to his room, he threw you on the bed and ordered you to get undressed. you had never seen sunghoon like this, and you would’ve never thought that you would end up showering with him.

you gave into his orders, and next thing you know, you and sunghoon were standing in the shower together. you felt some of the warm water sprinkle onto you as you waited for sunghoon’s turn to be over. he promised you that he wouldn’t look at your naked body, and you promised to do the same. as you stared at the floor waiting for him, he couldn’t help but take small peeks at your body.

he had never seen you naked before, but he always imagined what you looked like without clothes. he had high expectations based on how sexy you looked in your usual attire, and how you looked while you were naked exceeded his expectations. you finally looked up from the shower floor, only to make eye contact with sunghoon. your eyes widened as your arms immediately covered your breasts, even though he was already looking at them "i told you not to look, sunghoon!"

he chuckled before reaching his arm out to grab your waist, pulling your wet body close to his own. "i’ve been wanting to see you like this for a while now," sunghoon confessed to you. you felt something rub up against the inside of your thigh, causing you to look down and see what it was. sunghoon was hard, and he was hard because of you.

sunghoon took his hand and grabbed your chin, bringing your face close to his so your lips could meet. as he kissed you roughly, his kisses were full of lust. you kissed him back without hesitation, feeling his hands sneak up to your ass to lift you up. you let him lift you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his stiff cock rub against your heat from how close you two were.

he pushed you up against the wall as he still held your bottom to support you. his kisses moved from your lips and down to your neck. his left hand remained on your ass as his right hand was placed between your legs. he ran his fingers through your folds, causing shivers to travel down your spine and a soft moan to leave your mouth.

you gasp as he inserts one finger inside of you, pumping it in and out of you slowly to tease you. you run your fingers through his wet hair as you let out muffled moans against his shoulder. he leans his head down to whisper in your ear, "am i making you feel good, baby?" you nod yes as he continues to finger fuck you faster.

you already feel yourself about to release all over his fingers, but he suddenly stops and pulls them out from inside you "i think it’s time you take my dick now." he taps the side of your thigh to indicate that he wants you to stand again. you do as he pleases, and once you're back on your legs again, he grips your waist to turn you around. your face is now pressed up against the steamy shower wall, with sunghoon tapping his cock to make a slapping sound on your ass.

"been wanting to fuck you for so long," he announces under his breath, but you still heard every word. "i’m going to put it in now, okay?" you nod, "p-please just fuck me already, hoon." he smirks at the little nickname you’ve given him before ramming his dick inside of you and thrusting at a high speed. you practically let out a scream as he continued to fuck you senseless, grabbing a fistful of your hair to pull your head back a bit.

with his other hand, he gripped your hips hard so he could get the best angle while thrusting in and out of you. your walls started tightening around him, causing him to hiss "fuck" under his breath and start fucking you even faster. "who does this pussy belong to?" he asks you as you feel yourself coming close to your orgasm.

you could barely get the words to leave your mouth, "y-you hoon. it belongs to you." hearing those words come from you almost made sunghoon cum right then and there. you were just his roommate before, but he always has eyes for you, and only you. whatever girl he was fucking at the time, his mind was always on fucking you and seeing you cum undone all over his cock.

now, sunghoon was getting exactly what he’s been dreaming of. he doesn’t need to jerk off at the thought of you anymore. he could have you and fuck you whenever he wanted to, the first time being in the shower. "fuck, i’m close," he says while his grip on your hair gets even tighter. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as one of your hands reached out to hold sunghoon’s hand that was gripping your hips.

he sees your actions and immediately links his fingers with yours, pumping his cock in and out of you roughly. "i'm cumming, hoon," you tell him as you reach your orgasm and cover his dick in your juices. sunghoon groans your name as you feel his warm cum shoot inside of you, his thrusts slowing later to help him ride out his high.

sunghoon still had you pressed up against the shower wall as he leaned his forehead up against your back. you could practically hear his heartbeat radiating in the room, given how out of breath he was. you yourself were also out of breath from how hard he fucked you, and you enjoyed every single second. "you won’t have to pay rent anymore if you let me fuck you like this all the time," were his words to you before quickly helping you get all cleaned up.

a/n: SO SORRY for having to post this late because of the enha concerts i was going to! but i plan on posting all the days i missed within the next 24 hours so you guys will be getting that. thank you all for waiting and i hope you enjoyed sunghoon fucking you in the shower <3

series tglist. ( open ! just comment, dm me, or send an ask to be added ) @n-wjns @loves0ft @zeraaax @cha0thicpisces @p34rluv @sweetjaemss @hoondoll @xwonniex @yjjungwon @sunshine-skz @rikakhai @wubbster @sunghoonmybeloved @han8ul @kkurabae @sung5oon @metalchick529 @bwljules @jeondolly @janehrt @iliana26 @sunshinebunbun @lserlover @alternativelix @princesjy @dasa3040 @bunhoons

cant be tagged ; @lvrhsngg @greatheartattacks @luredher

perm tglist. ( open! just comment, dm me, or send an ask to be added ) @5xiang @jayluvrs

[ysljoon]

konig is your roommate pt. 2

pt. 1 wc: 748 warnings: all smut no plot, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), tit play, slight dirty talk, some German pet names sprinkled in there, afab reader a/n: im so sorry it took so long for me to get this out, but i hope yall enjoy! also this is the last part for this series, but if you have any requests for this couple send them to me >:3 MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)

Dinner was left cold and unfinished on the stove. The planned dinner date had turned into you and Konig unable to keep your hands off each other. He had you pinned against the wall and you were panting into his mouth feeling his girth rub against your core. “P-please tell me whether or not you want to go further.” Konig broke the kiss apart first and waited for your answer. You could see the way his pupils were blown out from how turned on he was and just the sight of that was enough to make you even wetter. “I want this so bad, please keep going.” That’s all he needed to hear and he was quick to turn around and place your body on the bed. He was gentle but with how fast he did it, it startled you a bit. He pushed up the hem of your dress up to your waist and admired you in all your wet glory. His thick fingers teasingly worked circles against your clit through your panties. 

“Is this what you planned for tonight, Kleine?” You could barely focus on anything he was saying. “N-not exactly, but I’m not complaining in the slightest.” 

He smirked and without any warning, he pulled your panties to the side and inserted one thick finger inside your hole. The sudden insertion had your back arching off the bed and letting out a soft cry. “F-fuck Konig it feels so good! I w-want more please.” He leaned over your body to give you a passionate kiss. You were holding on to his shoulders to give yourself some stability, but it was hard when you couldn’t stop squirming from his touch. “When you ask so nicely, mein liebchen I want to give you it all and more. Keep being such a good girl and I’ll treat you in the way you deserve.” He inserted another finger and you were already seeing stars. 

The wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of you and the pretty moans you were letting out had his cock rock hard and he already felt the front of his boxers getting wet from all the precum he was leaking. He felt your pussy tightening around his fingers and he started to pump his fingers even faster to send you over the edge into your orgasm. “Cum all over my fingers baby. Make a mess all over my hand. I know you’re almost there, my love.” The encouragement was enough to have you cumming and twitching on Konig’s fingers. “You look so pretty cumming on me, I can’t wait to have you on my cock squeezing me dry with how tight you are.” 

He dragged the rest of your dress off to expose your tits. He kissed down the valley of your breasts and started to nibble and bite around where your nipples were leaving sloppy hickeys all over you. Konig suckled on one nipple while rolling the other in his fingers and the sensation had you whimpering. “Kleine, I need you to touch me.” Konig’s face was flushed and seeing his erections straining against his khaki pants had you drooling. Without any prompting, you dropped to your knees and hastily started to unbuckle his belt. His erection almost slapped you in the face with the amount of force it had when springing out of his pants. Palming him through his boxers had him bucking his hips to get more friction. “Ah, k-keep touching me my love you’re doing so good.” You pulled down his boxers and gingerly wrapped your lips around the tip and the salty flavor of pre-cum coated your mouth. 

You widened your mouth as you went further down the shaft of his cock to allow for how big he was and tears started to prick the corners of your eyes. “You’re doing so good mein liebchen, I’m not gonna last long if you keep going!” You deepthroated his cock till your nose was pressed against his pelvis and then you started to bob your head faster once your mouth was more adjusted to his size. Konig’s cock twitched and suddenly shot spurts of cum into the back of your throat. He gently held on to your head for stability while riding out the rest of his orgasm. He slid his length out of your mouth with a ‘pop’ sound and patted your cheek. “Go lay down on the bed for me sweet girl, I’m not done with you.”

taglist: @yourpinkgirl @cumikering

[cissyenthusiast010155]

You said you wanted sub!Larissa Weems requests and I had to share an idea I had with you. Maybe you could write one where Larissa has a bad mental-health day (feeling insecure about her body, ect.) and fem!reader shows her how truly -fucking- beautiful she really is. I'm sorry if it's a little vague. I was thinking a fuck-ton of praise with a twist of degradation with the use of "my pretty little slut" or something similar, maybe some begging but the reader doesn't ask her to, Larissa just does because she's caught in the moment? Sprinkle in some overstimulation and the reader calling her "Angel"? I haven't requested something in FOREVER so excuse me if I sound a little off. Thanks! X

Hello there anon (: Thanks for the request! I absolutely love this and am most definitely writing on this idea. Thanks for your patience, Hope you enjoy it ☺️ P.S. I picked out a song to go along with this Fic 😉💕

Relax, Angel ~Sub!Larissa Weems xFem Reader

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, fingering, use of handcuffs, use of blindfolds, use of vibrators, over-stimulation, degrading kink, praise kink, fluff, etc.

Enjoy (;

This monster plus Wednesday Addams had really been getting to Larissa as of yet. She spent way more time in her office, holed up. You swear you saw her hands trembling 24/7 nowadays…

You had finished up all your classes for the day and walked over to Larissa’s office like always.

“Hey, love…” you cooed, walking over to a hunched over, working Larissa.

Larissa merely hummed in response. You came up from behind her, wrapping your arms around her neck, kissing her exposed skin.

“Sorry Darling, I have a lot of work to do… I’ll probably be working for a couple more hours, meet you in bed?” She hummed.

“Alright, love you.”

“Love you too, Darling.”

You spent your evening grading papers and waiting for Larissa. Eventually, you finished all your grading and moved on to reading. Before you knew it, it was 2am and your eyes were getting heavy.

But you wanted to wait for Rissa.

At about 2:30, you heard the door click open. Your head shot up, as Larissa crept into your shared quarters.

“Hey…” you sleepily cooed.

“Hey.” Larissa dejectingly responded.

Her body movement was slow and down… Her lips was quivering int he slightest manner… Her hands were trembling… Your body jolted awake even more now at the sight of your Rissa.

“Hey, What’s up?” You asked, voice full of concern and care.

You immediately brought her over to your shared bed, embracing her. A tear left Larissa’s eye. Followed by another. And another.

“Oh my, love, what’s wrong? I’m here, talk to me…” you pleaded, hating seeing your lover like this.

“I… It’s…” Larissa chocked through sobs, “It’s just… all too much…I’m not enough…”

You cupped Larissa’s cheeks, moving her eyes to meet yours. Tears started to brim on your own eyes at the sight of Larissa.

“You. Are. Enough.” You almost violently spoke out, against all the negativity being fed to your beautiful wife.

“You are a fucking goddess. Fucking stunning.” You whispered, placing your forehead against hers.

Larissa whimpered, slowly ghosting her lips with yours.

“Oh is that what you want?” You teasingly cooed.

Larissa desperately nodded with a small whimper following. She then closed the gap, connecting her red lips with your soft, caring ones.

“I’ll show my angel just how fucking beautiful she is.” You whispered into Larissa’s ear.

You could hear Larissa audibly gulp at this. You lightly chuckled at this.

“Im gonna unzip your fucking amazing dress, alright?” You purred, “Because as much as I love you in it… I’d love it even more with it on the floor…”

Another whimper escaped Larissa’s lips.

“Words, Angel. I need words.”

“Yes, please… god yes…” Larissa whispered into your mouth.

Then you dragged the zipper down her neck and down her back. Slowly, you undressed her goddess frame, until Larissa was left in her undergarments.

“God, your so beautiful…” you blurted out.

Larissa blushed at this, trying to hide her body from you.

“No no no…” you tutted her off, placing your hands on her shoulders and pushing her gently below you onto the bridge.

“You’re a motherfucking goddess, you don’t get to hide your body from me…” you purred, starting to kiss Larissa’s body from the neck to her hands to her stomach to her legs and her thighs…

By the time you got down to her thighs, Larissa started bucking her hips more and her breath was getting more shallow.

“Please… please… please…” she mewled.

“Awww, does my pretty little slut want me to fuck her?” You purred.

Larissa pouted her lips and whined, “god yes please… fuck me…!!”

You hummed in delight, dragging your finger through her throbbing cunt.

Larissa cried out, grabbing your hair and wrapping her legs around your head, “Oh god, yes! Fuck yes…!”

You then added a second finger and started to pump into her pussy at a steady pace, electing many more moans and mewls from Larissa’s lips.

And pretty soon, Larissa’s legs were shaking and were breath was becoming more and more erratic.

“Is my pretty little slut gonna cum for me?” You purred.

“Yes! GOD YES…!!!” Larissa cried out, “I’m so close, please!!”

Larissa came on your fingers like a fucking goddess. She was fucking sight to see…

“That’s it Angel, cum on my fingers…” you purred, as you helped draw out and then help her down from her climax.

~~~

Before you knew it, it was 6am, and you had made Larissa scream from multiple orgasms. Handcuffs, vibrators, and a blindfold were spread all across the bed. The last stroke you swiped against her clit, made Larissa cry out in over-stimulant pleasure. Cuddling up next to Larissa, you held her.

“Your so fucking beautiful, don’t let anyone convince you otherwise…” you whispered into her ear.

You thought Larissa had drifted off but she whispered back to you, “Thank you.”

“Anytime Angel. Anytime.”

[puppy-byun]

Just Friends...unless...? pt. 1

pairing: Hyunjin x Reader / a sprinkle of Seonghwa x Reader

rating: 18+

word count: 8k

genre: smut / friends to lovers / angst / university au

warnings: drinking, curse words, Hyunjin (obv but like... there should be a warning at all times), heavy make-out, fingering, light nipple play, dirty-talk, pet names (just one rlly), public...indecencies don't do this irl, minors pls dni!!

summary: You weren’t crushing on Hyunjin. You couldn’t be crushing on Hyunjin because you were just friends, and there was no way he would ever feel the same way about you. Right? Unless...?

disclaimer: This has only been proof read by myself but hey! I’m back! This is angstier than most stuff I've written before I hope u guys enjoy it!

masterlist | next

There had been a time in your life when you had thought you were in love with Hyunjin. Not infatuation, not attraction, and not an incredibly intense college crush, no, but the kind of star crossed, life changing love that you thought you could never possibly get over. You hadn’t had a clue how right you would be about that.

And Hyunjn? He hadn’t had a clue about anything at all, because Hyunjin was a sweet, but he was just about as oblivious as he was caring.

In all fairness, you hadn’t tried to get him to realize that you were head over heels the first time you realized how fast he made your heart beat. You didn’t think that you would be able to handle the embarrassment of him finding out one of his closest friends had been harboring a crush on him, and even less so the possible follow up of rejection. So instead, you had gone through months of fearing that he would realize you had feelings for him. You had constantly been torn about being grateful he was so clueless and hoping despite better judgment that he would realize, and he would maybe reciprocate those feelings. It had been months until you had finally managed to snub out every last one of them, until you and Hyunjin were just friends.

Regardless of whether you were over those feelings or not, it did not stop your friends from endlessly teasing you about that period in your life. Apparently, you had been extremely obvious - according to them. It was just your luck that Hyunjin wouldn’t even consider his friend being in love with him, so even two years later he had no idea there had ever been a time when you had wished you would make his heart flutter the same way he did with yours.

You couldn’t fully blame your friends for teasing you about your feelings for Hyunjin. Neither could you blame them for not quite believing that those feelings were in the past - not when you were so comfortable with each other, it was easy to mistake you for anything but a couple. But even if that did happen a lot it didn’t bother you and it didn’t seem to bother Hyunjin either – because you were just friends.

You had your hands full with eight guys in your life and you definitely did not need or have time for a boyfriend on top of it, so you didn’t mind guys automatically backing off when they saw Hyunjin and you together. And in the three years you had known Hyunjin he had never seemed too interested in starting a relationship with anyone either.

Admittedly, you had tried not to pay any attention to what he was doing when you weren’t spending your time together, because part of your ‘Hyunjin-crush-extinction-program’ had been to decidedly keep your nose out of his private affairs. If he had hook-ups, you had successfully managed to not witness any of them. It wouldn’t have been difficult to avoid situations like this though, considering he was friendly, well-mannered, hard working, and just about the stereotype of the perfect, sweet boy next door. He was ambitious, chivalrous, you had never seen him treat anyone with even the slightest disrespect, and you had never heard him talk badly about anyone. It was unfair, really, that on top of having an amazing character he also looked flawless. Long hair tickling his ears and the tips brushing his shoulders, still soft despite the way he bleached it all blond just a few months ago. Straight eyebrows, dark eyes that crinkled at the edges whenever he laughed, holding a sparkle that made it impossible not to laugh with him. His nose an elegant slope and a cute tip you had desperately wanted to kiss back when you had thought yourself in love with him. And his mouth. His mouth had been the worst part, because the boy looked like an angel but his lips never promised anything but sin, plush and soft and just about the most perfect lips anyone could ever want to kiss.

No, you were definitely not thinking about Hyunjin’s lips now. Even if there’s no problem with a bit of kissing between friends, no strings attached, right?

You shook yourself out of those thoughts, shoving them at the very back of your mind right with the memories of what it felt like to be hopelessly in love with Hyunjin, because those were parts of your life you had left behind and were not ever bringing back to explore.

You were thankfully forced to focus on something else for good when a loud thump sounded next to you, gaze dropping to the table with a slight squeal. Felix and Minho had dumped a whole tray loaded with various assortments of drinks and, to your dismay, also shots, in the middle of the table, spilling some of them in the process and splattering everyone with drops of sticky alcohol.

“I thought we’re not getting shit-faced today? It’s only Wednesday…” You tutted with a raised eyebrow, finger pointing at the shots specifically.

“Oh these?” Minho raised one eyebrow with a cat-like grin. “These are for our heartbreakers, since they look like they need a good amount of liquid courage.”

Changbin, one of said heartbreakers Minho had just mentioned, only rolled his eyes, but Jisung immediately grabbed two small glasses of what was undoubtedly tequila, downing both of them unceremoniously, foregoing the lemon. You laughed at the display, shoving one of the shots in Changbin’s direction discreetly, because even though he was putting on a tough act you could tell he was nervous.

You were occupying your usual booth at your favorite campus bar, attending Karaoke Wednesday for the sole reason of Changbin and Jisung promising they would finally get up on that stage and impress the girls they had been eyeing for the better part of almost two months. It was almost ridiculous, how your entire group had become regulars on karaoke night solely because these two kept saying they would ‘finally make a move this time’ every single week - only to chicken out.

Jisung was already on his fourth shot, ready to grab the fifth one, when you gently put your hand on his arm to stop him. “I think you should maybe slow down or all you’ll be doing is throwing up on her skirt before you can even utter a word.” you cringed, hoping you didn’t jinx it with your words.

Seungmin and Minho both laughed at the likely image of that happening but Jisung slumped back on the seat, rolling his eyes.

“You’re seriously the worst wing-men, all of you!”

The other boys only laughed more and you patted his hand empathetically, leaning over Hyunjin who was sitting right next to you.

“It’s going to be fine, Jisung. You go up there and you impress her, and she’ll totally fall in love with you. I would fall in love with you, if I weren’t already friends with you.”

The lie went over your lips smoothly, not even cringing inwardly when this was very much not true. Being friends hadn’t stopped you from falling in love with Hyunjin, but that experience had also taught you that you would never again get into the messy business of crushing on someone in your friend group.

“I would trust her judgment, you know,” Hyunjin added, casually grabbing your hand from on top of Jisung’s and placing it back on your own lap so he could lean forward and look at the blue haired boy. “She’s got actual standards, so her compliment means something.”

His hand never left yours, keeping his own slender fingers lightly wrapped around yours, a gesture so casual and normal between you that no one would even bat an eye. You laughed at Hyunjin’s words, whacking him over the back of his head softly. “What do you mean I have standards, I’m friends with you guys.”

“Yes, exactly,” Minho added pointedly, completely ignoring your jab and sliding a drink in your direction which looked suspiciously colorful and like it would make your teeth stick together.

“Shush, I was giving you a compliment bunny.”

You grinned at Hyunjin cheekily, from over the rim of your glass, proud that once again the pet name barely made your skin tingle. He always used it with you, and there was absolutely nothing flirtatious or special about it. It used to make your head spin, and it only took just about two years for you to get used to it.

“So what’s the game plan for tonight?” Chan piped up, the question mainly oriented at Jisung and Changbin, who were the sole reason you had even gathered at the bar and accidentally made it a tradition to get drunk on a freaking weekday.

“Let me guess, same as every week?” Seungmin asked, barely containing an eye-roll. Jisung was still pouting but Changbin set his shot glass down with vigor, sitting up straighter and causing you to snort into your drink. Hyunjin was helpfully patting your back to prevent you from choking while you listened to Changbin declaring how he would for sure win over his crush tonight.

The pats on your back changed to gently rubs once your coughing had calmed down a little and you skirted closer, leaning your head on Hyunjin’s shoulder. The last singer had ended their horrible rendition of Billie Eilish’s ‘Bad Guy’ and they were calling for new daring participants. For all of Changbin’s talk both he and Jisung had gotten very quiet. The drinks Minho and Felix had steadily brought had at least done nothing if not encourage everyone else at the table that tonight really was the night, so you weren’t surprised when Chan jumped up from his spot, waving and hollering to get the bartender’s attention.

“We have two entries here!” he shouted, so loudly that the whole bar had heard for sure and there was no way for Jisung or Changbin to back out of this. Waving him over Chan got up and fished a USB out of his back pocket, deeply engrossed in conversation with the bartender now. You knew he was trying to convince him to let your friends perform their own tracks instead of singing karaoke, which were saved on said USB. Jisung had gotten worryingly pale throughout the last two minutes, but your friends knew no mercy for the boys. Seungmin was already almost forcefully shoving Changbin out of the seat, and Felix and Minho were pulling Jisung, who did his best to resist, up by his arms.

You couldn’t help but laugh throughout the whole display, turning to catch Hyunjin doing the same while watching them.

“You think they’re aware their crushes are most likely watching them right now?”

“Don’t let them know, Jisung will probably pass away on the spot.”

You bit back a snort, nodding in agreement and continued watching how Chan threw a thumbs up in your direction and a very dramatic gurgle left Jisung’s lips. He might actually be about to pass out.

Hyunjin’s hand slipped from between your shoulder blades to your lower back, reaching the expanse of skin peeking out between your top and skirt. You shivered, unable to suppress the sensation and immediately sent your mind into shut down. Even if this was technically a normal reaction, it wasn’t with Hyunjin. You could never allow this with Hyunjin, because if he ever came even close to thinking you had a crush on him you would dig yourself a hole and vanish in the ground forever.

Halfway through the path to the stage the boys seemed to realize that their crushes were indeed watching them and finally managed to get it together so Seungmin, Minho and Felix could stop forcefully dragging them towards the raised platform.

The bartender – Seokjin, who Chan knew because they had a couple of classes together, which was most likely how he got him to agree to play their original songs – announced that tonight the program would be a little different, and you caught yourself sitting up straighter. Hyunjin moved with you automatically, pulling you closer with the movement, but your full attention was on the stage now. After months it was finally happening. The first heavy tunes of the song you had heard countless times by now started, and you watched your friends fumble for the microphones, still visibly nervous. They had performed their own music many times for you guys, but never on a scale this big, in front of strangers, and even worse, in front of someone they wanted to impress. The first few lines were a bit unsteady, making you cringe inwardly and holler out a lout whoop of encouragement. Jisung’s eyes caught your table, seeing you give him two thumbs up in support, and when a grin settled on his face you felt relief flood your body. Changbin didn’t need as much encouragement, immediately at ease as soon as he heard his own music, and once they started rapping you knew they were about to impress everyone in the bar, not just their crushes. Even though you knew the songs by heart you found yourself captured by their performance as well. They were just naturally talented, their charisma flowing through every line they were spitting.

Hyunjin’s hand, which had stilled when he, too, had focused on the performance, picked back up on drawing soft patterns on the small of your back and his nose brushed your hair when he leaned in enough so you could understand him over the music.

“You’re not actually gonna fall in love with Jisung now, right?” He was clearly joking and you leaned back to look at him with a laugh, mirroring his expression.

“Why are you asking? Are you jealous, Jinnie?” Hyunjin rolled his eyes in response at your absurd question. Why would he be jealous or anything even remotely as ludicrous, when your friendship was rivaled by yours and Chan’s only, and he damn well knew that.

“Of Jisung? Hell no, it took him two months to go up on that stage and the girl he’s trying to impress doesn’t even know it’s her he’s flexing this hard for.”

Even if you agreed you lightly pinched Hyunjin’s arm to let him know he wasn’t being entirely fair. Confidence didn’t come as natural to everyone as it did to him.

“I just think he wouldn’t deserve you.” he added as an afterthought, shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh?” you quipped, eyebrow raised because now you were intrigued. You could talk about almost everything with Hyunjin, but you hardly ever talked about something like this. For some reason your dating life (or lack thereof) was reserved for talks between you and anyone but Hyunjin, which you didn’t entirely mind. But now that it had come up, you were curious as to what he was trying to say. “And who would deserve me?”

Hyunjin opened his mouth only to close it again, the music filtering out in favor of a pregnant pause. He had successfully managed to capture your full attention, Jisung’s and Changbin’s performance, as good as it was, not as important as this conversation.

“No one of course.” Hyunjin finally deadpanned, as if it were the most obvious answer.

“No one…,” you repeated, a little incredulous. “So I’m just going to be single forever?”

Hyunjin shrugged, as if that was the obvious solution. “I suppose not. You’re going to settle for someone who doesn’t come close to the standards you’d deserve, and it’s going to be a tragedy.”

“Ah,” you supplied, your tone implying that, of course, how hadn’t you thought of that before? You let your eyes wander the room, settling on a guy halfway across with dark hair, a lean and tall figure and pretty beauty mark under his eye adorning his face.

“What about that one?” you nodded your head vaguely in his direction and Hyunjin followed your line of sight.

“Yugyeom?”

You rolled your eyes, raising an eyebrow at him. “How am I supposed to know? The one with the beauty mark.”

“Yeah, that’s Yugyeom. We share some classes, he’s a dance major.” He caught the wistful smile on your face, your eyes still locked on the other dancer rather than your friend, mentally jotting down his name while thinking that he definitely wouldn’t be a bad catch.

“Oh, hell no. I know what you’re thinking. He most certainly wouldn’t deserve you.” Hyunjin quickly grasped your chin softly but decisively, squishing your cheeks together and forcing your gaze back on him, confronted with your pout. “Don’t look at me like that. He’s a total fuckboy, you don’t want to get yourself into that mess.”

You hmphed, swiping your gaze in the other direction and away from Yugyeom. Instead, your eyes landed on a brown-haired boy who was sitting with a couple of friends, beer in hand and completely immersed in the music. He had a pretty, heart-shaped face, full cheeks and, oh god, dimples.

“What if I want the guy with the dimples? I think I’d want the guy with the dimples,” you decided, directing your question at Hyunjin, who apparently had become the judge of your hypothetical love life.

“Jaehyun, seriously?” Hyunjin’s exasperated tone was enough to tell you what he was thinking of that choice, but you decided to push it a little, just to tease him.

“Yeah, Jaehyun. I should go say hi.” Hyunjin’s hand, which had still been comfortably resting on your back, drawing distracting patterns from time to time, slipped around your waist, his fingers digging into your skin faster than you could react.

“Alright, alright, relax, I’m not going to do it. So he’s bad business?” Hyunjin relaxed his grasp only infinitesimal, as if he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t just jump up as soon as he let go.

“No, he’s actually a pretty fun guy. But I’ve seen his tongue down more girl’s throats in, like, barely a month, than I can count on my hands and toes. He’s football captain, too, so his life is pretty much sports and fucking. Unless that’s what you’re looking for…?”

“I guess not. Shame,” you commented, abandoning the idea of Jaehyun because he was clearly very far from your type. Your type being extremely hard to define because you had barely paid attention to boys other than the casual hookup throughout high school, and the only ever serious crush you had had been Hyunjin, with no other following after. There had been guys, but there hadn’t been anyone who managed to make your heart beat quite as fast as Hyunjin had.

The performance had long but ended by now, someone else already taking the stage, but the guys weren’t back yet, Chan stuck at the bar and engrossed in an animated conversation with Seokjin, who was severely disregarding every other customer. You had lost sight of Seungmin, Felix, Minho, Changbin and Jisung in the crowd so your booth was currently solely occupied by Hyunjin and you.

Letting your gaze glide over the crowd once again, mostly just to see if you could spot any of your friends, they instead landed on a head of white blonde hair, surely long enough to brush over the tips of the boys ears if he hadn’t slicked it back, showing off his undercut and sharp jawline. Oh, you knew that boy. It was true that only ever Hyunjin got your heart to beat fast, but you would lie to say there weren’t other boys who got you excited in other ways – Park Seonghwa right at the very top of that list. He was lounging on the backrest of a worn leather sofa, his back leant against the wall, legs spreading impossibly wide, as if he had no intention of making room for anyone else (he probably didn’t).

Hyunjin clearly had caught onto your not so subtle staring, because his next words were more exasperated than they had been at any other suggestion so far.

“Park Seonghwa?!”

You quickly glanced at your friend with a sheepish smile, before turning your gaze back to the white blond boy, resting your arm on the back of your seat and your chin atop of it.

“Yeah, Seonghwa is hot.”

“God, I take back everything I said about you having standards.” Hyunjin groaned next to you, but it wasn’t enough to pull your gaze away from the other boy. Everyone and their mum knew who Seonghwa was, campus heartthrob extraordinaire, with just the right amount of bad boy flair to make every girl positively drool. Now, you knew you didn’t stand a chance with him, just the way you had known that you didn’t stand a chance with Hyunjin. Guys that pretty were just way above your level, despite what Hyunjin said.

It wasn’t that you were unpopular per se, because hanging with one of the most infamous friend groups on campus had definitely gotten you a certain amount of popularity yourself. It had happened by accident, really, because Chan’s parents had moved in next door in elementary school, making you walking buddies on your way to school every single day for years, forcing Chan to befriend you. It could have ended after Chan had already entered high school and gained quite a bit of a reputation when you finally left elementary school behind to join him. But it didn’t. For some unfathomable reason he had decided that there was no one cooler at school than you, spending every lunch break and free period in your company, dragging you along and introducing you to all of his friends. Slowly but steadily your group had grown, Seungmin, Changbin and Jisung joining first, and then, one by one, Minho, Felix, Hyunjin and Jeongin. All of them had been semi-popular for their talents and charms even by themselves, but as a group they were one of those cliques that everyone wanted to be a part of just once. And somehow, through all of it, you had ended up as Chan’s number one.

Anyhow, all of that meant that you weren’t exactly unpopular, but nowhere near the level where you presumed you could pull someone like Park Seonghwa, just like you hadn’t presumed you could pull someone like Hyunjin, even if you had already been friends at that point.

“Are you even listening to me?” Hyunjin quipped impatiently, poking your side and you had, indeed, not been listening.

“Repeat it for me?”

You clearly heard his annoyed grumble, causing you to grin, although not in Hyunjin’s direction but in Seonghwa’s instead, who exactly at that moment seemed to have sensed that someone was staring at him and caught your gaze.

“I said I don’t—” The words didn’t filter through to you because Seonghwa was running a hand through his hair, one eyebrow raised in challenge, and you thought you might die on the spot. He couldn’t possibly mean you, could he? It felt like the longest staring match possible, even though it was probably only seconds before Seonghwa nodded his head towards the door and even through your disbelief you were ready to jump up and leave. But you were stopped when someone scooted right next to you, successfully ripping your gaze away from Seonghwa and pressing you closer to Hyunjin. It was Minho, decidedly more drunk than before, and when you snapped your head back around to Seonghwa you knew you’d missed your chance because he was already engrossed in a conversation with one of his friends.

With a wistful sigh you turned back around and the first thing you noticed were the two empty cups in front of Hyunjin that hadn’t been there minutes ago, which meant he had downed them in the short time you had spent eye-fucking Seonghwa.

“Care to explain what exactly you’re planning, don’t you have morning class?” You questioned the boy with concern, knowing that usually he held back because he took his dancing very seriously.

“What if I do?” Hyunjin just grunted snappily, reaching over the table to steal Felix’ drink while the blonde boy wasn’t looking.

You made a sour face at him, not knowing what had suddenly gotten into him and deciding that if he wanted to do something he would regret tomorrow you wouldn’t stop him if that’s the attitude he was giving you. Instead, you focused on Jisung, who had accumulated about four table’s worth of coasters and had started building a ginormous house upon his return. He wasn’t very successful at it, most likely because you could tell by his droopy gaze that he was very drunk.

“How did it go?” You inquired nosily, directing the question at everyone at the table who had clearly paid more attention to Jisung’s attempts of conquest than Hyunjin and you had.

“Did you know that in kindergarten they called me the ‘god of crafting’?” Jisung instead slurred, causing you to look at him as if to ask ‘what the fuck’ while everyone else was tipsy enough to deem this a perfectly acceptable answer. Felix even patted his back (which caused the coaster house to crumble) to congratulate him on his title.

You groaned in frustration, noticing how Hyunjin had emptied Felix’ cup as well now, only adding to your irritation.

“With the girl, Jisung, how did it go with the girl?” Jisung didn’t reply, intently focused on building his coaster house and mainly on ignoring you, so you turned helplessly to the other guys, question marks written all over your face. Felix was shaking his head as if to signal that it wasn’t a good topic to talk about but Minho wasn’t quite as sensitive.

“She didn’t like your lyrics? What was it she hated? ‘Excuse me noona, do you have a boyfriend?’” Minho was cackling in the ugliest way possible, causing half the table to almost spit out their drink against better judgement.

“I didn’t even talk to her!” Jisung instead ground out, throwing his head on the table with a thunk that resonated loudly and must have hurt, shaking the whole coaster house he’d built to the ground again.

“What do you mean you didn’t talk to her?”

“I chickened out okay!” He whined, voice muffled against the tabletop and the whole table groaned in unison at the hopelessness of it all.

“What about Changbin?” Hyunjin asked next to you, voice way friendlier than it had been seconds ago when he had talked to you. You decided not to be sour about whatever had gotten into him, because the hangover he would have tomorrow would be karmic energy enough.

“Judge for yourself,” Seungmin commented with a grimace, pointing a thumb over his back and you followed the direction he was pointing, catching sight of a couple pressed up against the wall next to the bar. The others were clearly looking at them too, Seungmin’s grimace not warning enough.

“Oh my god, is he for real?” You gasped, your grimace now matching Seungmin’s at how Changbin’s hands where clearly up the girls skirt right there, no doubt groping her butt.

“Well, he’s still faring better than me,” Jisung commented dryly, and you felt so sorry for the boy you couldn’t even laugh when he knocked his coasters down again.

“That reminds me, a girl asked me earlier if you and Hyunjin were dating,” Felix threw in, looking between the two of you and despite Hyunjin’s suddenly sour mood you couldn’t bite back a grin.

“Which one?” You inquired, curious who had been checking him out. Felix quickly scanned the crowd before finding who he was looking for, unashamedly pointing at her. Your eyes followed, quickly recognizing her from one of your classes. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but feel a short sting in your chest because if she was interested in Hyunjin her chances were definitely better than yours had been.

“That’s Chaeyoung,” you explained, managing to keep your voice stable and enthusiastic. “She’s in my Thursday afternoon course, total cutie. You should talk to her Hyunjin.”

“Why are you trying to set me up again?” Hyunjin only asked, not even bothering to grant Chaeyoung a single glance. It was true, you had made it a habit to try and set him up with someone back when you had desperately been trying to overcome your crush, thinking it would be easier if he were taken. Over time it had simply become a tradition you hadn’t really dropped since then.

“I don’t know? I’ve never really seen you hook up with anyone, I just don’t want you to combust at some point.”

“I haven’t seen you hooking up either,” He pointed out and you didn’t really know what to say to that, so you decided to ignore it. He had a point, but the reasons for that were not something you wanted to tell him, of all people.

“Chaeyoung’s a really nice girl and she’s gorgeous, if she’s really interested in you I think-“ you stopped mid-sentence, the words dying on your lips when Hyunjin’s hand unceremoniously slipped onto your exposed thigh. The conversation had apparently been drowned under the music because no one commented on how you never ended your sentence, mouth hanging open like an idiot before you caught yourself. Hyunjin was always touchy when he was drunk, and he was definitely drunk after he had rushed down three cups in a matter of minutes. There was nothing more behind this than him wanting you to stop trying to set him up.

“Someone should really stop Changbin.”

Everyone made the mistake of looking over to your friend again at Seungmin’s words, cringing even more at how the girl already had one leg wrapped around his waist, basically letting him grind into her against the wall.

Seungmin’s prompt evolved into a discussion of who would be the unlucky one to break them up and you were grateful no one was suggesting you. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t quite ignore Hyunjin’s hand, his fingers annoyingly soft on your skin. And, fuck, you weren’t sure if he was even aware but they were brushing the inside of your thigh, ghosting over sensitive skin. He couldn’t possibly be doing this on purpose. Why would he be?

You barely caught that Felix had been the unlucky one who was designated to kick Changbin’s ass and tell him to go somewhere at least a little more private.

“Thank fuck we didn’t bring Jeongin today,” You threw into the round, mostly just to save face and pretend you weren’t fighting with all you got not to clench your thighs together when Hyunjin dragged his nails up the inside of your thigh, stopping only when he ever so slightly dipped under the hem of your skirt. He had to be doing this on purpose.

“I mean, I’m glad he’s getting some, but damn, we’re too good at our own job, this is self-sabotaging,” Minho stated, blatantly ignoring that you had failed big time as wing-men when it came to Jisung, while you barely had to do anything for Changbin.

You chuckled, proud that your laugh didn’t hitch at the consistent movement of Hyunjin’s hand. What the fuck was he doing? You had half a mind to ask him, but you deemed it too embarrassing if he really wasn’t doing this on purpose and you called him out on subconsciously getting you all riled up. He’s always touchy when he’s drunk. He’s always touchy. It was better than him being pissy at any rate.

“Can someone take me home, I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jisung moaned from where he was resting his forehead on his arms, half hanging off the table, and you weren’t sure if he was drunk or close to crying, but either way it would be better if he got back to his dorm right about now.

Minho and Seungmin both got up with a sigh, hooking their arms under his to pull him up.

“You guys gonna be fine?” Seungmin, the only somewhat sober one asked and you were cut short before you could even reply.

“I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Hyunjin immediately supplied and you didn’t want to point out with the way he was slurring you would be the one taking him home safely. It wouldn’t be the first time you walked home together, either one or both of you drunk, so Seungmin and Minho accepted gratefully and focused back on pulling Jisung up with them.

“Now where’s Cha-“

“How can you be so unaffected?”

You turned to Hyunjin, not quite understanding what he was getting at but giving up your search for Chan immediately. He hadn’t been super drunk when you’d last seen him, and even if, he was a big boy and could get home by himself just fine.

“What do you mean?” You asked dumbly instead, and in place of a reply Hyunjin’s hand slipped lower between your thighs, thumb now brushing the inside too.

“You know what I mean.”

You weren’t sure if it was because he was drunk but his voice was raspy. So obviously, you did the only thing you could think of and started giggling in panic, successfully killing the moment that you weren’t sure had even been one. If it left Hyunjin utterly confused he didn’t say so, instead pulling his hand away from your thigh, finally giving you enough focus to breathe again.

“Do you still want to look for Chan?”

You shook your head, instead grabbing onto his arm and pulling him towards the exit, struggling when you noticed just how much he was staggering.

“Jesus Christ, you’re drunk. Let’s just get you home, alright?” You sighed, swiping his hair out of his eyes and patting his shoulder when he almost hooked his foot in the doorframe and fell.

“M’not drunk,” Hyunjin muttered, burying his face in your shoulder and hanging onto your arm with almost his full weight and that’s when you knew that the fresh air had kicked in. Sighing, you shifted your weight best as you could and continued staggering down the empty road down campus towards Hyunjin’s shared dorm with Seungmin, Minho and Felix, hoping that one of them would be home already and would let you in.

Deciding to push your luck a little you slowed your walk, taking a breath of fresh air before deciding that Hyunjin wouldn’t remember this conversation tomorrow, so if there was ever a chance to ask it would be right now.

“Why did you act so pissy earlier when we were joking around?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you echoed his words from earlier, but with an entirely different meaning. Silence settled over you, leaving only your steps, dragging under Hyunjin’s weight, and his heavier ones to sound in the empty area. He wasn’t going to answer, so you decided to shortly let go of him in retaliation. You immediately regretted that choice when he only clamped down on you harder and almost caused both of you to fall.

Readjusting your grip you continued shuffling down the road, deciding to give it another try.

“Why did you decide to get shit-faced, knowing damn well you will regret this tomorrow?”

“Nope.”

You huffed in annoyance at how he made the p of the word pop loudly, but decidedly did not give you an answer. You were growing increasingly frustrated.

“Why do you always act so uninterested when I try to set you up with nice girls?”

“Not gonna answer.”

“Okay, then riddle me this, why the fuck did you feel me up in the middle of the bar with Minho literally right next to me?” Frustration was audibly laced through your voice now, with how uncooperative he was being, but he caught you off guard when instead of replying he simply stopped in his tracks, taking a deep breath and then walked straight to the bench at the side of the street, sitting down heavily. You were left standing by yourself, looking at him questioningly.

“Come here.”

You stood rooted on the street, dumbfounded for another moment what he was getting at, before you took a couple of steps towards him, heavy with hesitant confusion, ready to settle down on the empty spot on the bench. Instead Hyunjin grasped your wrist and pulled you off balance, causing you to stumble. It didn’t matter if you tried to catch your fall because Hyunjin had other plans, his other hand catching your thigh and pulling you down on his lap.

“What are you-?”

The rest of your words was swallowed by his lips on your mouth. You felt almost as if you were caught in some type of twisted deja-vu, because this had happened so many times in your mind. But while you had dreamed of kissing Hyunjin, it had never gone down quite like this, and it hadn’t felt like this either. This was needy, carnal. Your legs were splayed on either side of his, skirt naturally hitched up, and his hands were on your cheeks, cupping your face, fingers digging into your skin as if he was scared you’d move away if he didn’t hold on to you. You were way too shocked to do anything, even if he weren’t making sure your lips stayed on his. You couldn’t even react, not until he took your bottom lip between his and bit down, eliciting a gasp from you that was somewhere between surprise and almost whining. His tongue followed, soothing the bite, and that’s when your brain shut down and you whimpered, hands slipping into his hair. It was soft, it always was, but this was different, because when you dragged your nails over his scalp, getting stuck in a tangle of his hair he groaned and you swallowed the sound. It sent warmth straight to your stomach. His hands slipped, from cradling your face to cupping the back of your neck, and you welcomed the added pressure, the way he meshed your lips together so desperately. You whimpered again, a little whinier, a little needier, and it was all Hyunjin needed to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted like alcohol, but he also tasted like him, and you thought you couldn’t possibly get enough. Hyunjin’s other hand was everywhere at once, running up your legs, scratching your thighs until you were gasping into his kisses. It was messy, your mouth wet and your lips kiss-swollen and you couldn’t stop touching him either, savoring the way the slightest touches made him react.

Leaning back slightly, just enough to catch your breath, another whimper slipped over your lips when you caught his gaze, dark eyes looking into yours so greedily you wanted nothing more than for him to wreck you.

“What are we doing, Hyunjin?” you whispered, and even that seemed inappropriately loud for the eerie silence of the campus road.

“Whatever you want bunny. Whatever makes you feel good, just tell me.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to gather your thoughts because he had never, never, talked to you like this before and it was causing heat to pool right between your legs. Even just the thought of him fucking you until you couldn’t think straight made you clench around nothing, regretting that he wasn’t doing so already.

“But why are we-?”

He shut you up with another kiss, going straight to sucking on your bottom lip, his tongue adding to the pleasure. Your eyes fluttered shut, questions dying down again. He was moving from your lips to your jaw and then to your neck, leaving a wet trail. He wasn’t even close to leaving a hickey, his bites too soft and too quick, doing nothing but to add to the tingle of anticipation running down your skin. You felt his hands move down your arms, almost hoping they would settle on your ass but he stopped just short of the hem of your shirt, running a fingertip along it until you were shivering. You felt him smile against your skin in between kisses, before his fingers settled on grasping onto the upper edge of your top, slipping down the strap and pulling until it left the soft flesh of your tits exposed. You had half a mind to stop him, thinking your bra would go next, the sheer lace doing very little to cover your hard nipples anyways, but instead he bit down, all softness from earlier gone. You gasped, loud this time, the sound turning into a moan when his lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking hard enough you could feel every movement of his mouth even through the lace. His tongue was swirling around your nipple, causing your breath to become erratic and your hands to clench in his hair, so hard he was groaning against your skin again.

“Hyunjin since when-?” You didn’t need to finish your sentence, but you immediately regretted even attempting to talk when his lips detached from your nipple, the spit-soaked material of your bra a cold contrast in the night air.

“I always tell you how pretty you are.” It wasn’t an explanation by any means but his mouth was still busy ghosting over your skin, his other hand now coming to slip under your bra, fingertip drawing over your nipple so deliciously it almost made you forget the questions you were burning to have answers to.

“You call everyone pretty, so why are we, shit, god you’re good-“ It took a few moments for you to collect yourself again, breath agitated and the heat between your thighs impossible to ignore while Hyunjin’s mouth had settled on your nipple again. His hands had finally dropped to your ass. He was pressing you down on his crotch and you had lost all capability to speak when his hard dick pressed against your wet underwear. Holy fuck, no matter what his motivations were he clearly wanted you right now.

“-why am I dry humping your dick on a park bench, you don’t get hard for all your friends, do you?”

„Nope.“

Again he let the p pop, but this time he accentuated the sound with a lazy grin, because despite your protests you were rolling your hips just the way he wanted you to, grinding yourself on his hard dick. Your underwear was sticking to your center, no doubt covering his pants in your juices already and the thought of it only made you wetter. “Your skirt looked so cute today, I really wanted you to ride me.”

You didn’t deem it necessary to mention that you had worn this skirt many times before and it had not ended up with him telling you he wanted his dick inside you. Not when he was swiping his fingers over your wet panties, groaning at the slickness between your legs. “I wanna go down on you so badly bunny, I’d love to make you cum all over my tongue.”

You could only whimper, no coherent words forming in your mind because he had swiped your slick underwear to the side, his finger now slipping through your wet lips. There was something about the fact that he was still holding onto your ass, pressing you close enough that he could reach your drenched folds from behind that made your head swim with pleasure. He had rushed his kisses before, but he was not rushing this, running his fingers from your clit down to your entrance slowly. He kept spreading you open, making sure to coat his fingers to his knuckles in your wetness. It was lewd, night air kissing your exposed skin while he was brushing his fingers over your slickness until you were shaking from just that.

You dropped your face to the crook of his neck, your moan muffled by his skin when he finally sunk two fingers into you up to his knuckles. He stilled, enjoying the feeling of you clenching around him while your fingernails dug into his skin, surely leaving marks even through his shirt.

When you started grinding your hips slightly, trying to get some friction and fuck yourself on his fingers because he wasn’t moving his other hand came up to your waist, stopping your movement.

“Nuh-uh, I wanna make you feel good, let me do this.”

You could only nod, hoping he could feel the confirmation, accepting that you’d behave if only he would finally do something. You were rewarded with a crook of his fingers you felt right at that sweet spot that had you arch your back.

“Right there, Hyunjin, do that again please.”

“That felt good?” He drawled, purposely crooking his fingers again, harder this time, and your moan was so breathy you felt dizzy. He finally motioned for you to move, lifting your hips so he could slip his fingers out before he fully sank them into you again, repeating the motion until you were bouncing on his lap, skirt bunched in his free hand and hitched up so high there was no way it covered anything. Eyes fluttering open to look at Hyunjin you knew you were right because he was mesmerized by the way your lips swallowed up his fingers, wet sounds every time you lowered yourself down on his hand.

“You’re doing so well, think you can come like that for me bunny?”

“Yes, god- fuck, yes-“

You were a stuttering mess, your words barely intelligible when Hyunjin picked up the pace, pushing his fingers into you at an angle that hit your most sensitive spot every time. It didn’t take long to have you seeing stars, your orgasm a tight curl in your stomach. Pressing his face to your tits again it only took one more harsh suck on your nipple and the knot unfurled, your walls clenching as you came hard on his fingers. Your orgasm was causing your body to be wrecked with shivers, his name falling over your lips like a mantra until your throat felt sore. His fingers were still inside you when you slumped against him, his free hand cradling your head, letting it rest on your shoulder.

“The fuck did we just do, Hyunjin?” You mumbled, uncertainty lacing through your post orgasm haze. You were far from calmed down, body still tingling from head to toes, a shiver running down your spine every time he moved his fingers inside you just the slightest bit, but with it came another realization.

Your crush on Hyunjin wasn’t gone. Possibly had never left, and now that he’d made you come on his fingers it was crashing over you like a tidal wave. You needed this to mean something because if it didn’t you were almost sure there was no way you could get over it.

“I don’t know about you, but fingering you in that cute little skirt was definitely on my bucket list for tonight.”

His words were still slurred. God, how had you managed to completely ignore that slur once he kissed you? He was drunk and you let him finger you in public because he was horny. His god damn bucket list for the night. Were you ranked lower or higher than getting shit faced in a cheap campus bar?

Anger was welling up in your chest - at yourself for being so stupid, for thinking you were over him, and at Hyunjin for making you a drunk fuck and disregarding over two years of friendship.

It wasn’t fair, because it happened, friends casually fucked, and he couldn’t have possibly known it would hurt you. You couldn’t have known either, but now it was too late. The squelching sound resonating in the silence when you lifted yourself off his lap made you cringe and you couldn’t smooth out your skirt and step away fast enough. Your shirt was wet with his spit, and you could feel him all over your body, which only made everything all that much worse.

“So, we’re done here now and that’s that.”

It was supposed to be a question, but even to your ears it sounded more like a statement, and you were almost grateful. A question could’ve meant that you wanted more. You didn’t want him to know before, and he certainly couldn’t know now.

For a short moment Hyunjin was looking at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher before he carelessly wiped his fingers on his pants, completely ignoring the awfully visible tent from his straining dick.

“Want me to walk you home?”

You bit your lip in order to stop yourself from crying out in frustration. Who was this person, and where had your best friend gone? Hyunjin cared, he always did, so could he not tell how you were clearly struggling, how you were barely keeping it together while he completely shut himself off from you emotionally? You would not lose this friendship because of one stupid mistake.

“Yeah, please.”

[lanitaminaj]

eres mía 💋

in which miguel finds a way to make you committed to him forever.

smut, dominican miguel o’ hara

miguel was always a bit jealous when it came to you.

he hated the fact you walked around nueva york alone, garnering lustful stares from the perverted men that sat on bedstuy’s brown-house steps. he hated the fact that it was summer, so all you’ve been wearing was those tight summer dresses all month long.

“pero, papi,” you would tell him. “it’s hot out. what else am i supposed to wear?”

even if you were out with friends, that didn’t stop men from catcalling you like they did on the regular.

“mira esa vaina,” you told him recently, giggling as you showed him the brown, slightly ripped napkin that held the illegible, scribbled-on hint of a phone number of a man who’d given it to you. “some chump gave it to me. told me to holler at him when i leave my girlfriends alone. fuckin’ cabrón.”

you found the situation funny, laughing to yourself while you sat in miguel’s lap. miguel himself, however, didn’t find it funny in the slightest.

“how about we give him a call, hm?”

“papi,” you gently shoved his shoulder. “ya. give it a rest.”

he didn’t give a rest. an hour later, he was busy fucking you on his cock, his left hand spreading your right thigh wider as his right hand squeezed your throat.

“who’s pussy is this?” he growled, his thrusts growing rougher and harder as your moans grew higher and louder.

“yours,” you’d breathe, your voice getting caught in a web of pure ecstasy and lust. “fuck, baby. yours.”

“only mines?” he whispered in your ear.

“only yours,” you responded, right before you came erotically for the third time that night alone.

afterwards, while you were all bundled up and sleeping in nothing but a white, plush blanket in miguel’s arms, the man started thinking to himself; a dangerous feat that miguel often indulged in.

miguel was undeniably possessive; the veins in his throat popped whenever you brought up encounters you’d have with men who wanted nothing more but to fuck you. he’d often tease around about making you a housewife, the man wanting nothing more but to keep you at home wearing nothing but silk lingerie for his pleasure only.

“cmon, nena,” he would tell you, slapping your ass as he reached for a piece of salami from the pot on the stove. “don’t you wanna stay home and be all hot for me?”

“stay home for who?” you’d always reply, grabbing the salt shaker on the counter to sprinkle the tostones with. “you’re never home, babe.”

“shh,” he’d murmur, his tall, six-foot-nine form pulling your standing body close to his, your ass rubbing against his hardening cock. his hand would run down your stomach, his fingers slipping under your pajama shorts as they pressed down on that one spot that always made you breathe out a gasp.

“i’m home now, aren’t i?”

miguel was serious about making you a housewife. he wanted you home, safe from the eyes of any asquerosos with their wandering eyes and shameless thoughts. you were stubborn, laughing off miguel’s repeated attempts of keeping you home.

he knew he wouldn’t get you that easy, but as you laid in his arms, your cheeks still cherry-blossom red from getting fucked throughout the night, he realized there was one last thing that would get you to comply.

-

“mi amor,” you heard his voice rasp in his signature mellow, deep voice. “eres mía” by romeo santos played quietly on the little, black radio that stood against the kitchen counter’s corner. the boiling stew on the stove rumbled, the sound mimicking the pitter-patter of the raindrops that rapped against the apartment’s windows.

you smiled, turning around slightly to meet the tired eyes of the love of your life. “papito,” you affectionately called. “how was work, baby?”

he groaned, the man throwing his head back as his left arm rubbed the back of his neck.

“i know, baby,” you sighed, empathizing already for your man. “ven acá.”

he silently stalked towards you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he perched his chin on your left shoulder.

“nena,” he purred, his tan-toned, full lips leaving little, feathery kisses along your ear. it made you shiver, an action you hoped would go unnoticed as you silently stirred the pot of stew. miguel noticed, of course, his kisses advancing alongside your neck.

“i’m making your favorite,” you softly spoke, pretending not to notice the effects miguel’s affection is already having on your body. “sancocho, papi.”

“yeah,” miguel absentmindedly answered, his plumose eyelids were shut as his mouth traveled downwards towards your shoulder, his kisses replacing where his chin rested against. “how about i eat your pussy instead?”

“miguel,” you whispered, his right hand rubbing against the blue, satin material of your night dress, his fingers dancing past the edge’s lacy trimming as they met the cotton-fabric of your black panties. “que ‘ta haciendo?”

“shh,” miguel’s voice rang close to your ear, his veiny, wide fingers rubbed your covered pussy. you could feel him smirk at how wet you instantly got, the tip of his canine tooth jabbed slightly into your shoulder as he felt a sudden dampness on his fingertips. “lo quiere, mami? look how wet you’ve gotten already.”

“papi,” you breathed, your voice growing labored and feathery under his touch.

“como así?” he seductively asked, the sensation further intensifying as his pressed on your clit, his fingers massaging you there quicker than he had already been doing. “no quieres que me paro?”

“como así,” you answered, parroting him. “don’t stop, baby.”

the vision of you under miguel sent blood rushing down to his cock. it was the way you gripped onto his veiny arms, his left hand stroking your belly while his right hand teased you there. it was the way your lips parted to make those familiar noises he adored, the little whines and soft moans delicately made just for him. it was the way your legs began to give out, your body’s way of showing him just how weak he made you.

you really couldn’t blame him for the words he uttered, not after seeing you becoming undone from just his light touches.

“baby,” he whispered, his voice low and resonant. “let me cum in you tonight. let me put a baby in you.”

“a baby?” you muttered, your once sealed eyes slowly fluttering open at his words. in your lustful state, however, there was only so much you could register. “quiere acabar en mi?”

“si, mami.” suddenly, miguel spun you around to where your ass met with the marble surface of the kitchen counter and to where your forehead was pressed against his own. slightly crouched, the tall, tan man’s hazelnut-brown eyes stared into your own, his pupils dilated in both love and lust. his left hand, the one that wasn’t playing with your pussy, delicately met with the softness of your face, his adoring nature causing your cheeks to blush a deeper shade of ruby red.

“i’m serious,” miguel asserts, his eyes searching for any signs of doubts in your widened pair. “quiero una familia contigo, mami.”

“no me mientas,” you lightly scoffed, rolling your eyes at him in a mix of playfulness and dubiety.

“mi vida,” he breathed, his rugged, right hand pulled you in closer so that your chest brushed up against his. “no hay otra mujer que quiero pasar todo mi tiempo con. you’re all i want, mi jeva. let me show you how much i want you with me forever.”

“papi,” was all you could muster up in a response. your chest rose as you breathed, a sign of your arousal and your mind realizing what miguel wanted from you. looking into his eyes, you realized that this was the man whom you shared so much history with, the man who’d come home to you frying salami or mashing plátanos to make mangú for him. you realized that this was the man whom you slowed danced with at night, the romantic, melodic charms of aventura playing from the cassette tape player the rhythm that made you both relax into each others arms.

it was then had you realized what miguel truly was to you, and it was then that you realized there was nothing that he could’ve asked of you that you would’ve denied.

“i want a baby,” you finally replied, your eyes taken in how his face softened, his thick eyebrows lowering as his plump lips parted to some degree. “i want your baby, miguel.”

“yeah?” he questioned, his voice airy as if he was in a trance. “dígame otra vez, mi jefa.”

“miguel,” you tried to come off stern, but you could feel yourself smiling. your right hand grasped the back of miguel’s thick neck, your fingers pulling him closer to where the tip of his right ear met with your bottom lip. “cum in me.”

you screamed as you felt his arms lift you effortlessly, your body shaking from laughter as you wrapped your legs around his slim waist. he smushed his lips against yours, muffling your blissful laughter yet failing to subsidize your vibrating body. while your eyes were shut from passionately kissing miguel, you felt movement being taken underneath you before your backside was met with a plush surface. your eyes opened, your mind registering the fact that he’d placed you on the living room’s royal blue couch.

“qué qué?” you smiled up at him, your teeth reminding him of the little stars that shone in the twilight hour of the brooklyn night sky. “too lazy to carry me to the bedroom?”

“cállate, perra,” he hissed, yanking his own shirt off before he threw it somewhere deep in the living room. and by somewhere deep, you really mean like two feet away if we being honest cause god damn these new york city apartments are tiny as fuck.

his lips met with yours abruptly, your laughter and teasing slowly turning into gasps and moans. he let his left hand rest over your throat as he roughly kissed you, a reminder to both you and him that he was the one in control. even with your numerous little jokes and teases directed towards him, it was miguel who made you shut up simply with his dick.

he bit your bottom lip, not enough to draw blood but just enough to catch your attention. your eyes opened slightly to catch him winking at you, his teeth releasing your lip just to tell you that you were his.

“eres mía,” he told you, his lips descending as they met with your neck. “la mujer de mi vida.”

kissing your neck, miguel managed to sneak in a bite which made you shriek.

“diablo, miguel,” you cussed, rolling your eyes as you could feel him smile against your skin. you playfully smacked him against his chest just for that, however his smile only grew.

his lips traveled down towards your chest, his left hand released your throat as his fingers toyed with the lacy edge of your nightgown.

“quítale,” he commanded, his right hand wrapped around your left wrist as he pulled your back off the sofa.

“cuero,” you teased, your arms perpendicular to each other as you lifted the sapphire-blue nightgown over your head. tossing it towards wherever miguel threw his shirt, the only thing you were clad in now was your simple pair of already soaked, black panties.

“coño, mami,” miguel swore, his brown eyes focused on nothing more but how hard your tits were because of the prior pleasure he’d made you feel. “fuck, baby. your tits are so hard.”

“yeah,” you breathed. “i wonder why.”

ignoring you, miguel pressed you back down on the sofa before he immediately bent himself over you. he wasted no time in putting your right tit in his mouth. his left hand’s fingers rubbed the damp center between your legs.

“miguel,” your words turned into moans. your fingers, without your knowledge, found themselves woven into miguel’s chocolate-brown, silky hair.

“te gusta, mi amor?” miguel questioned, his lips pulled off of your tit as his wide eyes peered straight at yours. his right hand replaced the warmth from miguel’s mouth as he squeezed your right boob, his mouth peppering little kisses on your left.

“claro que si,” you replied, your voice hitching and your words liquifying into whines as miguel’s fingers rubbed drawn out circles, torturously slow, on your covered clit. “fuck, miguel,” you whimpered. “papi, por favor.”

“por favor, qué?” you felt his words vibrate against your body. he left your tits alone, opting to trail his mouth further down your warm and trembly body. you felt his wide, lengthy tongue trail down the soft surface of your torso, the tips of his fingers fingering the edges of your panties. “want me to put it in so soon, mi amor?”

“yeah,” you responded, your hands squeezing his shoulders in anticipation. “fuck, miguel, just put in already.”

miguel’s fingers pulled your panties down your thighs, the man muttering a “coño, mire a ti,” from just how wet you were. gloss coated your pussy, your clit protruding and throbbing as if it was enticing miguel to suck it.

“mire como te pongo,” the beautiful dominican man whistled, his fingers carefully unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. not even bothering to take his pants off further down his broad thighs, he pulled his cock out from his cranberry-maroon boxers, the sight causing you to whine in visual ecstasy.

he was just so, big.

seven inches of him barely fit in miguel’s lengthy right hand, with mauve-toned veins visible as it ran throughout his entire cock. his salmon-colored tip dripped with pre-cum, the sight of it causing your pussy to throb.

“que largo,” you commented, your eyes hollowing in pure lust as you watched miguel stroke his own cock. he threw his neck back in pleasure, his eyes closed peacefully as he let a moan escape his lips. you could feel your clit pulse, your thighs unconsciously pressing harshly against each other to soothe the pressing sensation.

“ábrelos,” miguel growled, his hand flying off his dick as he forced your legs open.

“miguel,” you moaned, “no juegues conmigo.”

he shushed you, a soft “tranquí, nena,” murmured from his lips as his left hand pushed your right thigh down, putting you on full display for him. you were fully exposed, your body failing to conceal your arousal from him with your hardened nipples and your soaked pussy for his private viewing.

his right hand held his cock again, the tip of it teasingly rubbed your pussy which earned another playful smack from you.

“ya,” miguel laughed, before he finally put in inside you.

your neck threw itself back instantly, a low-pitched moan getting caught in your throat as your eyes were firmly squeezed shut. you were wet, so wet that it started to drip on your inner thighs. it made it easy for miguel to slip inside, a low, vibrate groan pushed emerged from his chest as he did.

“fuck, baby,” you breathed, your hands finding his shoulders again as you clutched for dear life. “you’re just so fucking big.”

“and you’re so fucking tight,” his words rumbling from above you. “abre tus ojitos, muñeca.”

peering your left eye open, you could’ve died right then from the vision in front of you. although it wasn’t anything new, you could never get used to what it looked like when miguel was inside you; his vast chest inhaling and exhaling from his labored breathing as his brown locs grew messy and stuck unto his face as if his caramel-brown skin was actually made of honey.

“you’re so beautiful,” you found yourself whispering your thoughts out loud. it was then he looked at you, really looked at you. he watched your puppy-dog eyes as they widened, full of love and adoration for him. he watched your apple-red, blushing cheeks grow fat from your contagious smile.

“mi angelita,” he smiled back, the soft expression on his face carefully mimicked the ones on yours. “el amor de mi vida.”

“miguel,” you sung, just now remembering that he was still inside you and recalling just how bad you wanted him to make you cum. “fuck me.”

“yeah, baby,” the romance on miguel’s face quickly dissipated as lust rapidly took over, the smile on his lips turned into a smirk while the softness of his eyes turned into a glare. “cómo así?”

he pulled just an inch of his dick out of you before he roughly thrusted himself back in, and lord, the stars you were seeing.

“papi, cómo así,” you whined. he repeated the action slowly for just three more strokes, before eventually he sped himself up for harder and deeper blows.

it was too much. you could feel how deep he was, your pussy struggling to take all of him inside you. you could feel his cock rubbing against your inner walls, the feeling of getting penetrated and massaged internally produced so many sensations that you didn’t have the mental capacity at the time to describe. your hands, unsure with what to do with themselves as your brain was clogged with pleasure, often switched from gripping onto the plush couch beneath you, to holding onto your numb tits, to grasping miguel’s shoulders and arms. the man himself seemed so calm compared to your disheveled state, his constant fucking of you and his unashamed sounds of lust the only indicators of his ecstasy-filled condition.

“coño, miguel,” you couldn’t help but blurt out, little whimpers slipped out as miguel’s animalistic fucking grew more and more aggressive. his thrusts became quicker, his cock pressing impossibly deeper until it found that one spot that made you fall apart every time miguel found it. “ay dios mío, papi, no pare.”

“mi zorra,” miguel hissed, his hands pulling you closer as they gripped your thighs. “que mojada ‘ta por mí.”

“mhm,” you moaned, your hips slightly thrusting against his dick as he kept fucking that one spot over and over again. “oh fuck, miguel, baby i’m serious don’t fucking stop.”

“what,” he teased, his movements purposely picking up speed. “te vas a acabar?”

“cum in me,” you whined, your hands placing themselves on miguel’s back as you pulled him closer. “don’t pull out baby, cum in me.”

“fuck,” miguel cussed. with how you could feel your pussy tightening against his dick, you knew from past experiences that your man was about to tap out himself.

he wrapped your thighs around his lower back, prompting you to pull him closer as his breathing grew heavier and thunderous.

“let me cum in your pretty pussy,” he panted, a familiar, beloved sensation started to boil up in his lower body. “let me make you my slut forever.”

and then you came undone. you felt yourself reach the highest point of pleasure, your throat coarse from the whines and moans that fled from your trembling lips. your legs shook violently against miguel’s torso, the sounds blood rushing obnoxiously throughout your ears stunned the rest of your senses for a brief moment in time. you were literally seeing stars, your eyes were shut so tight to where little specks of white flames danced behind your eyelids.

while you were living in your high, a new sensation of something warm filling you up regained some form of your senses back.

miguel’s groans brought you back to earth, the enticing mix of cuss words and your name being moaned from his voice was what gathered your attention onto him once more. the way his nose was scrunched and his top lip curled up served as signs that he’d just came with you.

only this time, instead of cumming on your belly or in your mouth like he usually did, you just remembered what you’d begged him to do.

he actually came in you.

-

to miguel, you were everything he ever dreamed of.

in the midst of his hectic work life in nueva york and the constant nights of hustle and bustle, he knew that in the end he had you he’d came home to. it was you who he’d adored, who he’d respected, who he’d genuinely loved. there was no other woman who miguel could ever truly see himself being with forever, and there was no other woman who he could see himself fathering children with.

therefore, one night after he arrived home from work one day and saw you were in the kitchen making arepa as a little treat for a rough day, he nearly cried and screamed at the little gift you presented to him.

a positive pregnancy test.

and although he originally wanted to get you pregnant just so he could keep you away from the perverted men of nueva york (also cause miguel is a dominican man and they’re all grimey as fuck), miguel couldn’t imagine having his first baby with anyone that wasn’t you. he’d often day dreamed of capturing moments of your growing belly as each month progressed. he often day dreamed of singing and talking to your baby late at night, his hand on your belly while your fingers played with his hair.

if miguel wasn’t certain about a lot of things, there was one thing he was undeniably certain about; his unconditional love for you, and the desire to have a family and be devoted to only you for as long as he may live.

[bangtanficsforyou]

Girl Of His Dreams (02)

Pairing: Fuckboi! Jungkook x Reader

Au: Strangers to Lovers au

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut (eventually)

Rating: 18+

Word count: 7K

Summary: You think Jungkook is the utter definition of beauty. Jungkook thinks you’re cute but just not his type. Throw a magic ring into the equation, that makes you look like the girl of his dreams and you have the perfect recipe for heartbreak and tears.

Warnings: OC has low self esteem but we been knew, Jungkook is cocky and careless, dilemmas, swear words and that should be it.

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist (gonna make one soon)

Jungkook wakes up after a few minutes of you repetitively shaking his shoulders and sprinkling his face with water.

"Jungkook?" You call out in relief, the moment you notice the slightest bit of movement. "Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?"

Jungkook blinks a few times in what you assume is an attempt at clearing his vision. After a few more blinks, he seems to be able to see clearly and his eyes focus on the person sitting in front of him; you. 

Much to your surprise and utter confusion, Jungkook's whole body language changes. He suddenly looks wide awake and shocked.

"Jungkook? Are you okay?" You ask again, considering the possibility that his sudden behaviour change can be a sign of some discomfort he might be feeling in his body. 

Jungkook looks around and when he notices that the place is familiar to him, he seems to calm down and it provides him with a sense of clarity. "I need to go. I have classes." With that, he picks his bag up from the floor and gets up from his seat.

"Jungkook you can't leave–" 

Before you can finish your sentence, he leaves without a single stumbling step as if he wasn't just senseless a few minutes ago. You quickly pay the bills and leave too. You can't just let him leave like that, what if he faints on the road or something?

Until he reaches his class or finds a friend who can look after him, you tell yourself as you start to follow him. You'd call for him, but you don't know what he will think of that. Maybe he'll think that you're trying to win him over or something and will again give you one of those looks that makes you feel inferior.

You don't want to do that plus it's alright as long as he's in sight. If he faints or stumbles, you will know and can help accordingly. 

It is when he nears the art building that he joins a group of guys and starts chatting with them. You sigh in relief thinking that now he's with people who can look after him.

You turn around to leave when your eyes fall on the ring and you chuckle. Guess the ring isn't magical, after all!

You don't know why but you feel a little gloomy thinking that there isn't a magical ring that exists after all. You hadn't given a thought to what you'd do if the ring had some special powers but for a moment there, you had gotten excited thinking that it might help you bring you out of your misery. That maybe you won't have to struggle so much to find love. 

But, alas! 

Now the thought that you entertained the existence of such a ring sounds hilarious and downright stupid to you. Nevertheless, there's one less thing on your mind now.

If there's something you're good at and something that you never had to struggle with, it would be in academics. From the very beginning, you have always been an 'A' student. You have always been meticulous, a quick learner and a hard worker. All of which has simply contributed to your excellent track record when it comes to studies.

The only time you have gotten a C was in kindergarten, in art.

When you received that grade, you had made up your mind to get an A on the next test. It wasn't because you had gotten a scolding from your parents or that you were competitive. No, it was simply because it didn't fit into the collection of 'A's. Your two-year-old self thought that the 'C' must be very lonely and sad that it does not have a friend it can play with. Hence, you wanted the C to become an A, so that it can have fun with the others without being left out.

While you intensely practised the drawings of simple figures such as trees and huts, you also developed a special interest in sketching. The two-year-old got her A and also, found her hobby. Although, it was only when you got older that you realised sketching isn't just a hobby for you and that it is a means by which you express yourself.

Sketching helps you process your emotions and release them. It's simply therapeutic for you. 

But after the latest debacle this morning, when you think of sketching or of the word 'art', it reminds you of the tears you cried in the washroom. It makes sense though. The episode is fresh and you can still feel the heavy emotions on your tongue.

You know that sooner or later, you will sketch with those emotions in mind so that you can move on from it. But before you can do that, you have to remind yourself why you love sketching.

It will take some time but it won't be difficult. You will only have to start sketching something you love in a place where you feel comfortable and at peace and you're sure your love for art will overcome the bitter memories from today. Then, the word 'art' won't redirect you to the pain you felt today. 

Until then, you try your best to focus on the rest of the classes. You were already absent-minded during the first half of classes. You can't afford to do that during the second half as well. With all the assignments and projects that are due, if you miss what's being taught in class, you'll surely fall behind.

Thankfully, you find it easier to concentrate now, knowing that you won't have to face Jungkook anymore and that the ring isn't magical.

Much to your delight, the rest of the day goes by quickly and in no time you find yourself attending the last class of the day.

When the bell rings, you put your pen down and open and close your fist several times to get relief from the tension in your fingers. 

Taking notes can be really tiring. 

You huff when you see that almost everyone has packed their bags and are about to leave. It reminds you that you too will have to get up and walk all the way to your dorms. Only then will you be able to get some rest. 

Gosh, science has advanced so much and yet there's no teleportation.

With rest being the only motivation, you leave your seat and walk towards the door.

You have just stepped out of the class when someone taps on your shoulder. You turn around and you feel completely perplexed when you realise that it's Jungkook.

Before you can get a word out, he starts speaking. 

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" He stands there in the middle of the corridor, with his hands in his pockets, asking you the question in a very relaxed manner.

You, however, are anything but relaxed. Every time he's around you feel this pressure of having to prove yourself. With that, also comes the pressure of saying the right things. Saying something that can be misinterpreted in the wrong way, will make you look stupid all over again.

Jungkook mistakes your silence as your way of asking him to go on. And so he does. "I want you to model for my designs."

Now that gets you speaking. 

"What?!" You are sure if you were to look into the mirror right now, you would look like a cartoon character with eyes wide open in disbelief and a look that says they are hearing things. 

"Modelling," Jungkook says as if the word is supposed to explain everything. "It's alright if you don't have any prior experience, it is not that difficult."

You stare at Jungkook and try really hard to make sense of his words and actions. He is possibly just joking, right? But then why does he look so serious and seems to be expecting an answer from you?

"I-I...Why are you asking me this?" You stutter out.

"Why can't I?" He asks back, now somewhat reciprocating your state of confusion.

"No, but it's me." You point to yourself as if it should be obvious. 

"So…..?" He leaves his words hanging in the air in hopes that you will start speaking in full sentences so that he can make sense of what you are trying to say. When he finds that you don't seem to have any intention of explaining where your confusion is rooted from, Jungkook takes matters into his own hands. "Listen, just come with me. See the designs and then you can decide."

Jungkook takes a hold of your hand and mistakes your inability to protest as your compliance and starts walking with you in tow. 

Your eyes drop to his hand that is encircling yours. The sight makes you feel weird as if it shouldn't be there. However, what surprises you is how gentle and warm his touch is. It's almost comforting. Almost. But his words still sting and the gentle touch only reminds you how much hurt his words have left you with. 

The pain reminds you of how clear and obvious he made it that you aren't model material. Heck, it was only this morning that he felt the need to make it clear that him asking for a treat wasn't the same thing as going on a date with you with that look on his face. The look that says he would never consider that as a possibility and is only saving you so that you don't daydream again. By now you can tell what that look means because you have been on the receiving end of it more than once.

How and why, then, is he asking you to model for him? 

You had honestly thought that today's lunch–

Today's lunch. Jungkook had put the ring on you while the two of you were in the cafeteria. Could…..could it possibly be the result of that? The thought leaves you even more perplexed and you feel clueless as to what you should do if that were to be true.

You don't get to dwell in your thoughts for long as Jungkook's steps come to an abrupt halt and you realise that the two of you have stopped in front of the very room, the modelling audition was supposed to take place in. The realisation makes you panic. What if he asks you to audition? A week back, you were ready, overconfident and you had your head in the clouds but now, the thought of auditioning sounds like a nightmare. 

"Come here," saying so, he heads over to a table. You follow him and as you get closer, you realise that there are sketches of his designs laid out on the surface. "These are a few of my sketches. I'm yet to decide which six to keep for the competition but it will be out of these."

"You want me to model wearing these?" In the state of confusion that you're in, you don't find it in yourself to observe the designs properly and appreciate them the way you would, any other time. Right now, your priority is to make sense of the situation.

He nods with a soft smile, one that catches you off guard. "I can't think of anyone else who would be a better fit for my designs."

With those words, any doubts you had about his behaviour being influenced by the ring, leave your mind. There's just no way that this Jungkook is the same one you interacted with before. 

Or maybe he is. He just views you differently. 

Almost as if to confirm your thoughts, the ring starts getting warm again. The sensation causes you to gasp out audibly, which catches Jungkook's attention. 

He smirks flirtatiously, entertained by the sound. "That's a very flattering reaction to my designs, thank you ." 

You half expect yourself to have a negative reaction to his words but surprisingly, rather than his words reminding you of the time you took his flirty words seriously, it gives you a pause. 

You notice the way he's looking at you and it makes you realise that he isn't giving you that look anymore. There's a spark of something behind his eyes. You can't tell what it is but you sure know what it isn't. Judgement. 

The only other time he had looked at you this way was during the first class but that is understandable considering that was the first time you both met each other. However, after that, he made it clear that he holds a particular opinion about you and you have an idea of what that is.

But that's not to say that you didn't want to change the idea he has of you. Of someone, who's too eager, who doesn't know their place and of someone who would mistake the slightest amount of attention being given to them as something more. When you realised that there was no way you can change his opinion, you tried your utter best to not feed into his views further which prove him right.

But right now you can tell that the opinion he had of you, is gone. He doesn't seem to view you through that pre-existing notion and it somehow lifts a heavy weight from your shoulders. It's almost as if Jungkook is meeting you for the first time.

It gives you the slightest amount of confidence to be yourself.

"Sorry to break it to you but I wasn't gasping at the sketches," you reply with a small cheeky smile. Or you hope that it comes out that way. It might as well have looked like you are wincing because you still don't know how to be around Jungkook. 

Jungkook's smirk drops immediately and you have to hold back the small chuckle that bubbles up. It's kind of nice to see him not have the upper hand. 

He clears his throat, feeling a bit embarrassed and tries to change the topic. "Nevertheless, let me know when you're free so that we can get started with it."

Seeing him in this flustered state, makes you feel bolder. "I never agreed to be your model." 

Jungkook sighs. You're playing hard to get. Justified, he thinks. 

"Give me your phone," he asks with his palms outstretched. 

Already having an idea why he's asking for your phone, you don't protest. Handing him your phone, you watch as he types something. The confirmation that he's typing a number comes in the form of the unique sound phone keypads make. 

Jungkook places a call from your phone to his and then gives you, your phone back. 

"What should I save your contact as?" He asks. 

It occurs to you that he has never asked for your name before, it has only ever been art girl to him.

With a small smile, you answer his question. "Y/N."

Jungkook nods as he types your name on his phone. The name has got a nice touch to it, he thinks.

"Text me by tonight to let me know of your decision." 

A feeling of unease bubbles in your stomach which tells you that you might not be able to rest the way you have been looking forward to throughout the day.

Once you're back in the comfort of your dorms, you think about everything that has happened today and you're immediately faced with a massive dilemma. 

The ring worked. That much was obvious in the way Jungkook's behaviour towards you drastically changed. 

But what are you to do now? 

Do you keep on with the pretence and see where things go? But the thought of doing so is immediately met with guilt. Because, after all, doesn't that mean you will be deceiving Jungkook?

Your mother's words about how who puts the ring on you, starts seeing you as their dream partner, comes to mind.

The thought of Jungkook viewing you that way, sounds exciting. It would be lovely and ideal for you if that were the case. Who wouldn't want a man like him?

But deep down, you know you can't accept that. You can't accept love in that form because whatever Jungkook might be feeling for you, isn't real. It can't be. 

The other option with you is to remove the ring and letting things go back to normal. But then that would mean returning back to the you, that has never been good enough. You have always felt ashamed about how you were never the person you'd like to be.

You sigh when you realise you have to choose between guilt and shame. 

You'd think having a magical ring would make things easier and magically fix the issues you have, but you're only left with difficult decisions to make.

You glance down at the ring and think about it. If you let things go back to normal, wouldn't that mean that you're simply not putting the ring to use? After all, isn't that what the ring is made for?

You know what wearing the ring means. Jungkook will keep viewing you as his ideal partner. But would that be so bad? 

You know you'll feel guilty for doing so and for deceiving him. But at least there will be a reason for that guilt. That guilt won't make you feel powerless as it will because of something you have willingly done. That guilt is acceptable. However, feeling shame for being the way you are, is something that you never chose for yourself. You are the way you are, you have always been this way and with the shame that comes with being you, there is no explanation or reasoning. Most importantly, that shame makes you feel powerless.

Is it so bad that you want to let yourself escape from that shame? Throughout your life, you had to let go of a lot of things that you wanted. No matter how much you tried, some things always remained out of reach as you were never good enough to have them.

If the price you have to pay for feeling like you're flawless and enough, is guilt, you will gladly take it.

Your intention isn't to get with Jungkook, rather it's to feel that you're worthy of feeling the love of someone like Jungkook.

Plus, it's the ring which is making you look like his ideal partner. Which means the moment you take off the ring, the effect will wear off and so will his feelings.

One month.

You make the decision. One month from now and you'll remove the ring. One month of feeling the way you have always wanted to. One month of letting the magic work for you. One month of not being the Y/N you know. After that, you'll gladly give up the ring and return it.

Making up your mind, you grab hold of your phone. 

You: Hey, it's Y/N. 

You: I'll be your model

You anxiously chew on your lips after shooting the text. He hasn't changed his mind, right?

Thankfully, your phone beeps only after a few minutes and you immediately unlock the screen and open the message.

Jungkook: I was waiting for your text. 

Your anxiety is washed away and the thought of him waiting for you to text does something funny to your stomach. 

However, you immediately push the feeling aside, reminding yourself that it's only because of the ring and try to think of a proper response to his previous message.

You: well I'm flattered :)

Jungkook: that smiley is cute 

Jungkook: btw can i ask what made you say yes

You look at his question and answer him with the truth. 

You: thought of giving it a try 

You: i have never experienced something like this before

Jungkook: that makes sense 

Jungkook: although to be fair I wouldn't have taken no for an answer

You: 🚩🚩🚩

You: tell me you're a red flag without telling me you're a red flag 

Jungkook chuckles at that. 

Jungkook: judging me too soon aren't you?

Your smile fades in the slightest when you read that. You wish you had the courage to counter him with the exact same line.

You: it's not like you're giving me any other choice 

Jungkook: well then I hope to get to know you better and change your opinion of me 

You: we will see ;)))

A knock on the door catches Jungkook's attention and he looks up thinking that it's you. His excitement, however, dwindles when he realises who it is. 

"Tina," he acknowledges her presence with a small nod.

"Am I early?" She asks, looking around at the empty room and noticing that it's only her and Jungkook. 

Her question reminds Jungkook of the fact that informing her about the changes had totally slipped from his mind.

"Actually, there's someone else who's going to model."

Tina frowns, surprised by his words. "What do you mean by someone else? You didn't inform me about it beforehand."

"I know, but it was kind of sudden." Jungkook shrugs.

Annoyance shoots through her veins at Jungkook's dismissive behaviour. Not only two days ago, he was being all flirty with her and here he is now, not bothering to give her a proper explanation. She should have really listened to her friends when they said that Jungkook only ever fools around. The moment he has a new girl, it's like the previous one never existed. 

Not wanting to start an argument, knowing very well that there's no point in having one, she turns around to leave the room. Before walking out of the door, however, she leaves Jungkook with one last sentence. "You're a dickhead."

Jungkook has heard that before. So many times in fact, that it doesn't bother him in the slightest. Dickhead or not, he's doing his thing and he's good at it. If anyone has a problem with that, then well….it's their problem, not his. 

"Did something happen? She looked really mad." Jimin asks, entering right after. Having stumbled upon Tina on his way, he had asked her if everything was okay, however, he was met with a 'go ask your friend', and hence here he is, asking his friend.

"Well, I got a new, better model and forgot to inform her in time," Jungkook replies, feeling glad that Jimin is here. At least now, Jungkook won't have to sit here idly anymore.

"New model?" Jimin turns confused. "When did that happen?"

"Yesterday," Jungkook replies with a small smirk as if he knows something, but Jimin doesn't. "You will see why she's perfect for the role when you meet her."

Jimin shakes his head at Jungkook's behaviour. It isn't something new for Jungkook to make rash, sudden decisions. However, he wasn't expecting Jungkook to end things with Tina this soon. 

But again, Jungkook is Jungkook. 

Putting those thoughts aside, Jimin rests his bag on a chair. "Should we work on the designs then?" 

"Yes, please," Jungkook agrees. "I can't wait for the designs to get finalised."

The two of them sit opposite each other and work on what details could be added and most importantly which six designs would be best suited for the theme. 

It took Jungkook months to finish the sketches and now, every time he looks at them, he feels proud. From the moment he learnt about the competition, he stayed up day and night to finish the designs. Nothing motivates Jungkook the way winning does. And he sure as hell, plans to win the competition.

Jungkook's eyes skim through the designs, and he can't help but imagine how you'd look like wearing them. It automatically brings a smile to his face. He really can't wait for the ordered materials to arrive so that he can start working on bringing the designs to life. 

As he's thinking of you, there's another knock on the door and Jungkook couldn't be more delighted to see you standing at the entrance. 

Your eyes automatically land on Jungkook and you're relieved when you don't feel the need to hide yourself when you lock eyes with him.

Of course, it has something to do with the lack of judgement in his eyes. But you think, a small part of it is also because of the conversation you had with him last night. 

You can't forget the immense amount of weight you felt even yesterday while asking him if you could take a few pictures of him in order to complete your assignment. But during the small exchange of texts, you couldn't believe it when you realised you were enjoying talking to him. You were typing out responses without giving it much thought and weren't worried about how he might perceive them.

For the first time, you felt comfortable talking to him.

Now that you're standing right in front of him, you won't go as far as to say that you're completely comfortable but you aren't necessarily uncomfortable either. It's almost like that feeling when you're meeting someone for the first time, where you are nervous about how the meeting will go, whether you will be able to make conversations and whether you will make a good first impression or not. 

You're well aware, that this is definitely not a first meet for you and Jungkook but it feels like it. He's not viewing you as the art girl and you're getting to see a side of him that doesn't resemble the Jungkook you had encountered, at all.

It's as if you are meeting Jungkook for the first time.

"Y/N," Jungkook greets you with a smile, which warms your heart. "I was waiting for you."

"Sorry, for coming late. The building was quite far away." You explain sheepishly as you make your way to the table and put your bag down.

"It's okay, you aren't late in the least." Jungkook dismisses your concern, not bothered by your delay at all. "Meet Jimin, he's my childhood best friend and a student of fashion designing. And Jimin, this is Y/N, she's going to be our model."

Your eyes drift to the other man in the room, and you feel your confidence drop when you realise that Jimin has a look of disbelief on his face as if he can't believe that you're the model.

It immediately makes you look away.

Guess, the effect is limited only to Jungkook. 

Jungkook notices your discomfort and looks at Jimin in confusion wondering what the boy might have done for you to react this way. When he notices the way Jimin's looking at you, he rolls his eyes. "Hey, man, I know she's pretty but don't gawk at her like that."

This snaps Jimin out of his haze and he clears his throat. Reminding himself to be polite, he introduces himself to you. He outstretches his hand and puts on a welcoming smile. "Hey, I'm Jimin."

You entirely miss Jungkook's compliment and give yourself a small prep talk to not believe Jimin's smiley facade. "I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you," you say as you shake his hands.

"We can't get started, because our other model isn't here yet," Jungkook informs you. "Me and Jimin were discussing designs and suggesting changes that might be beneficial. You can join us in doing that if you'd like to."

Jungkook says it with such a bright excited gleam in his eyes that you can't find it in yourself to say no. It's almost as if he wants you to join him and involuntarily, a smile appears on your face at the thought that he cares about your opinion.

"Sure, I'd love to," you say, joyfully.

As the three of you take your seats around the circular table, Jimin observes you closely. 

For some reason, he can't believe that Jungkook, out of all people has chosen you to be his model. You are the literal representation of what isn't Jungkook's type. To think that he dismissed Tina, for you, makes him feel tremendous amounts of disbelief. 

It isn't only about him choosing you as his model though. It's also about how Jungkook is looking at you. Almost, as if he's….into you? 

But then how on earth is that possible? Jimin has known Jungkook since he was eight and there's no way Jungkook would take interest in you.

You know how every once in a while someone you swear you know from the inside out, does something that makes you doubt if you know them at all in the first place? 

Jungkook choosing you, looking at you like that, is exactly doing that one thing that makes Jimin question everything. 

As Jimin tries to make sense of the whole thing, one possibility comes to his mind which seems like the only possible explanation to Jimin. 

What if…what if Jungkook made a bet with someone? 

You know one of those bets you read about where they target someone in particular and challenge the guy to win her over or something? Jimin swears if that is the case, he is going to pull out his hyung card and give Jungkook a good scolding. 

However, when Jimin looks at Jungkook, he is forced to shoot that possibility out. Jungkook won't do that. Jungkook can be rude and harsh at times, but he isn't cruel. He would never intentionally harm anyone for the sake of his own benefit.

Jimin stops trying to figure things out when he realises that he has reached a dead end and that the only person who can help him understand this sudden change of behaviour coming from Jungkook, would be the man himself. 

But he can't ask Jungkook these questions right now, so he focuses back on the present moment and the designs.

You try to ignore the weird look Jimin is giving you and focus on what Jungkook is saying regarding the designs.

You might have managed to miss it yesterday but now that you're seeing the designs up close, there's no way you can hold back the expression of awe on your face. They're absolutely breathtaking.

There are such fine details that every time you look at them, there's always something new that you discover. 

What's even more fascinating to you, is the fact that the person who has created all these designs is sitting right next to you. It's not every day that you get to look at art and appreciate it with the artist that has created them. 

"They look fantastic," you say with a wide grin. "I've only ever seen this kind of fancy stuff at the Met Gala."

Jungkook feels elated at your praise. "I'm glad you like them."

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you come up with these designs?" You angle yourself a little towards him. Because that way, it becomes easier for you to ignore Jimin's presence and focus your entire attention on Jungkook. Plus, as someone who is deeply enthusiastic about art, you really are curious as to how he comes up with these ideas. 

Jungkook feels excited at your genuine display of interest in his work. He hates to admit it, but it's rare for him to find people who appreciate art and its creation. 

"When I feel inspired, I just let my pencil do the work," he explains. "I don't overthink about whether the sketch is coming out the way I want it to or not. After the first draft is done, I start the analysing process and add the required changes to get my desired end product."

You nod. That makes a lot of sense to you. It's something that your art teacher in eighth grade had advised you. When your imagination wants to flow, let it flow. Don't burden yourself with the weight of getting things right as it will only kill your inspiration and your love for art.

Before you can reply to Jungkook with another question, a new voice pipes in. 

"Sorry, I'm late, we were having our viva."

You turn around at the sound of a deep husky voice only to see a tall, gorgeous, guy of your age huffing and out of breath and you immediately shrink in your seat.

After the look Jimin gave you, you totally expect this guy to give you the same look. They both are gorgeous and it's of no surprise that they would wonder what someone like you, is doing with someone like them.

"It's okay," Jungkook says as he pulls out a chair for the guy to sit on. "Take some rest and then we can get started."

"You haven't introduced Y/N to him, though," Jimin pipes in, speaking for the first time since introducing himself to you.

"Ah, right," Jungkook chuckles. "Y/N this is Taehyung. Taehyung, this is Y/N."

Taehyung, despite his dishevelled state, smiles at you. And his smile catches you off guard, completely. Unlike Jimin's smile, his one is genuine. His smile is big and boxy, almost as if smiling was his first instinct to greet you. It instantly puts you at ease and you give him a smile in return.

"Hey, it's nice to meet you," Taehyung gives you a little wave. 

"Likewise," you quip. 

"She's our new model by the way," Jimin comments, his words directed at Taehyung. Jimin doesn't mean to sound rude, but he can't be the only one finding this weird, right?

A look of surprise takes over Taehyung's features and you think this is it, this is when he starts judging you. He too is probably going to think the same way Jungkook did before the ring. He's gonna wonder how on earth are you anywhere near suitable for the role of a model.

Taehyung, however, gets over the news pretty quickly and his features slip into an expression that tells you he isn't bothered by it. 

"I didn't realise that," Taehyung says, looking at you. Much to your surprise, you don't find any judgement in his eyes. "I look forward to working with you."

You try to give him an appreciative smile in return but it only comes out awkward. Perhaps, it's because you feel like a deflated balloon right now. All the pressure of anticipating people's reactions is taking its toll on you. 

Taehyung takes a seat between Jungkook and Jimin and there is about another fifteen minutes of discussion before Jungkook suggests that you and Taehyung should practise how to carry yourselves on stage while modelling.

Taehyung, having had the time to regain his energy, voices his agreement immediately. You, on the other hand, feel anxious at the thought of having to model. 

It's absurd that you're dreading it when that's pretty much what you're here to do. But you can't get over the worry of ending up looking like a fool.

"How about, I watch and observe today?" You suggest in a meek voice, hoping that your nervousness isn't obvious. "That way I'll have a better idea of how to do things."

As it turns out, all three men notice your nervousness. However, it's Jungkook who speaks up first. 

"We can do that." He affirms, trying his best to not make you regret your choice. You weren't willing to model but in a way, he was the one, who was not ready to take 'no' for an answer. The bare minimum he can do is to make sure that you don't get uncomfortable and change your mind about modelling.

His words bring in temporary relief and you shoot him a small smile to show your appreciation. 

Once the decision is made, that for today it's only going to be Taehyung who's going to practise, the three guys get to work to make arrangements.

In the blink of an eye, the tables and chairs are moved so that Taehyung can walk without any obstacles in his way. The designs are clipped to the canvas so that it is visible to everyone. You ask if there's anything you can do to help but Jungkook quickly shoots the idea down, saying that there's no need.

Taehyung walks to the opposite side of the room whereas you, Jimin and Jungkook stand next to the canvas. 

"Remember, the ideal time is 15-20 seconds. You can take more than that if you need but there is no need to rush," Jungkook says in a loud tone so that his voice can reach Taehyung.

Taehyung shoots him a thumbs up from the other end and waits for Jimin's green signal. As soon as Jimin says 'go' Taehyung starts walking the way he would if the floor were an actual runway. 

Your mouth parts open at the way he carries himself with his back straight, core tight, and shoulders back and down – but in a relaxed, not a forced, way. As he walks, his arms swing slightly and he keeps his hands relaxed. He keeps a strong pace that is just right, not too fast, not too slow. His hips don't move too much, they stay straight. He looks straight ahead with a look of confidence that simply amazes you.

You're sure, if anyone were to watch Taehyung, they would for sure think he's a professional model. 

Jimin flips the design when it's time to move to the next one. 

The change is barely noticeable but this time when Taehyung walks, there's something mildly gentle about it. Your assumption that this has to do something with his perception of the correct way to represent the piece of clothing, is proven right when he keeps making these small, barely noticeable changes, each time Jimin flips the design.

As you watch Taehyung walk back to his original position and then start walking again, you wonder how exactly are you going to manage to do this and how will you match Taehyung's skill.

You thought modelling would be easy, that you'd simply have to walk wearing the clothes Jungkook has designed. But now that you have seen the designs, you will gladly put aside the hurt Jungkook's words had caused and will admit that he should have someone who will do justice to the designs, as his model. And you really, don't think you'll be able to do it. 

Not when your partner on the runway is supposed to be Taehyung, who walks and carries himself so gracefully. Next to him, you're nothing and will stick out like a sore thumb.

Boy, what did you sign up for? 

Jungkook's hands might be occupied with putting things back in the cupboard but his mind is occupied with you.

It's weird because it hasn't even been half an hour since you and Taehyung bid your goodbyes, but Jungkook already wants to spend more time with you and wants to get to know you better. If he were, to be honest, he hasn't felt this way about anyone before. But that's justified, after all, he hasn't ever met anyone as beautiful as you before, either.

The thought makes him sigh.

In the short span of time that he has known you, he has found himself wishing you could see what he sees. Because even though it has only been a day, he can tell that you are not as confident as you should be. If only you knew what other girls would give to have your beauty and charm.

"Jungkook?" Jimin calls. When Jungkook responds with a small hum to let Jimin know that he's listening, Jimin asks the question that has been on his mind since he met you. "What made you choose Y/N as the model?"

"Well because she's perfect for the role." Jungkook shrugs, without missing a beat, the answer coming to him automatically.

"But Y/N is the kind of girl you'd never choose as your model." Jimin counters, not satisfied with Jungkook's answer in the least.

Jungkook frowns, amused by Jimin's opinion. "Are you sure you know me?"

Jimin sighs, frustrated. He knows he shouldn't bother himself so much with something so minuscule but he also can't just accept it. Because one of Jungkook's main traits has always been knowing what he wants. Which also extends to girls. 

It's not unknown that Jungkook is a bit of a player when it comes to romance. He likes to be free and never gets tied down. And let's just say, if one were to look at the list of girls he has been with, one would be able to tell exactly what Jungkook's type is. 

It's not only that though, Jungkook only ever gives attention to a girl if they fall under the category of his "type". There might be the girl who's perfect for Jungkook, right in front of him but he won't bat an eye at her if she isn't his type. 

One might say, that's very shallow of Jungkook but that's also simply how he is and has always been.

Hence, Jungkook removing the girl who is his type, to make you his model, who isn't his type, is very puzzling to him. 

"Maybe I don't," Jimin says, his voice not hiding the mix of frustration and confusion he's feeling. "Help me understand why you chose Y/N as your model?"

Jungkook looks at Jimin, trying to understand what's going on with the older one. Why is he so hellbent on understanding why he chose you as your model? Moreover, what's there to understand even? Isn't one look at you enough to answer that question? 

Nevertheless, Jungkook tries to think about how he should answer Jimin's question. But when he gives it a thought, it occurs to him that perhaps there's a bigger intention behind why he has asked you to be his model.

"Maybe modelling is just an excuse," Jungkook's words are spoken more to himself than to Jimin. Almost, as if he too is realising something. "Maybe, I want to get to know her on a deeper level."

Still doesn't answer Jimin's question.

"But why?" Jimin prods.

"Because she looks like the girl of my dreams," Jungkook whispers, his eyes locked on the ground as a gentle smile appears on his face. 

Jimin bends down a little to catch the expression on his childhood friend's face. It shocks him to the core when he notices the lovesick smile that adorns Jungkook's face. 

"My god, what on earth are you saying?" Jimin whines.

"Also, because I have met her before–" Jungkook looks up suddenly, totally ignoring Jimin's question, as if he just remembered that he has forgotten to mention something to Jimin. "–in Gangnam." 

A/N: if you enjoy my writing and want to have early access to all my works, head over to my patreon!

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[racinginchid3nt]

I’d Probably Still Adore You | Nine

Y/N x Lance Stroll, Y/N x Lando Norris, Y/N Best Friend x Pierre Gasly

In which a night at the club and a game of never have I ever turns into something new

Inspired by 505 - Arctic Monkeys

Warnings: minor smut, mostly in discussion

Previous | Next

————————————————————————

At exactly 7:30 you heard a knock at your door.

“One minute!” You called, lacing up your heel. You grabbed your clutch, tossing your phone in it before opening the door.

A cheeky smile covered the brits face when he answered the door. He blatantly checked you out, eyes gliding over your face, chest, legs, and down to the lace up silver heels.

The white beaded dress you wore clung to the top half of your body, with the slightest a-line cut near the waist. A small slit showed off a hint of your upper thigh. The dress was beautiful, depicting a sky scene across it, a large sun and moon. The dress had been expensive, but damn did you feel good in it.

He wore a navy suit with no tie. His jacket unbuttoned as he fiddled with it before breaking the silence.

“You look stunning.” He stated.

“Not to bad yourself Norris.”

And as he offered you his arm, the two of you walked to the elevator, a calm silence settling between you.

It was only as you made your way across the lobby did you start to question whether you should have agreed to be his date. As the doorman opened the door for the two of you, the valet pulled up in a Mclaren supercar. But before you could truly take it in, you were startled by the screaming of the fans congregated outside. You had thought they were loud when you had gotten lunch earlier, but this was different. This was overwhelming. Camera flashes went off repeatedly while fans screamed Lando’s name. Pulling you closer, he smiled and waved, making his way to the car.

He opened the door for you, the winged style going upwards. Once you sat down, he closed it and came around to the other side, taking the keys from the valet.

As you drove off you turned to him, “Is it always like that?” you asked.

“The fans you mean?”

“Yeah. That was…. a lot.” You replied, unsure of how else to describe it.

“I guess. It’s normally worse on race day.” He shrugged.

Thinking back to Spa, you thought about how the fans reacted to Pierre when he walked in. It was loud, but no where near that loud. Lando was certainly more popular, but you hadn’t realized how much more.

The gala was being held at a large venue near the hotel. The car ride was short, music playing lowly in the background.

Paparazzi surrounded the doors, cameras flashing as people made their way into venue. A valet met Lando at the drivers side of the door, taking his keys. You waited as he came around to your side of the car, opening the door for you and offering you his hand.

As soon as he had reached for the door all cameras had turned towards him. It had been a long time since he had shown up to an event with a date, and considering no one had any idea he was seeing someone, it was an even bigger deal. With the flashes came the questions,

“Lando!”

“Lando who is that?”

“Lando is that your girlfriend?”

“What’s her name?”

“Lando are you officially off the market?”

As he smiled down at you, the camera flashes quickened, and continued until the two of you disappeared behind the doors.

————

The gala was beautiful. You’d been to events before, but nothing like this. A bar area sat off to the side, a large dance floor covered the bulk of the space, with a few high top tables sprinkled around the area. A seating area for dinner was through a set of double doors.

Spotting Pierre and Y/N Best Friend, you made your way over to them.

“Y/N! You look hot as fuck.” Y/N yelled. She always got loud when she drank, judging by the hazy look in her eyes you could tell she was already a few drinks in.

“Hello Y/N, it’s lovely to see you as always.” Pierre said, pulling you into a hug.

“Y/N, I’m going to run to bar real quick to get a water, what would you like to drink?” Lando asked.

“Water is fine, thank you.”

“I’ll come with you Norris, Y/N Best Friend could use a water as well.” Pierre replied, leaving you and Y/N Best Friend to yourselves.

“Sooooo, Lando?”

“So Lando what?” You replied.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not stupid. You went from not wanting to come, to showing up with Lando fucking Norris.”

“Y/N Best Friend..” You attempted to interject.

“No, don’t even try. And don’t think I forgot about last time. You and Lance just so happening to disappear at the same time after eye fucking each other for hours? You could cut that sexual tension with a knife. I’m surprised you two didn’t go at it in the booth.” She said.

“Y/N Best Friend, it was a one time thing okay? It’s not important.”

“Sure sure. You know I don’t give a fuck. Have them at the same time for all I care! But share the juicy details with me next time ok?”

“Y/N Best Friend!”

“Listen, they’re both hot, they both want you, might as well make it worth your while. Besides, I think that sounds fun. A little scandalous but fun.”

“Keep your voice down! I’m not having a fucking threesome with them.” You respond.

————

It was only an hour into the event but Lance already wanted to leave. He had been nursing the same drink the entire time, and he certainly needed more if he had to keep up the same conversations.

How was your summer break, how is the season going, how’s Fernando, how’s your dad, the car looks good, etc. It was the same shit over and over again.

That was how he found himself in the middle of a conversation with Mark? or was it Matt? He didn’t know anymore, he was barely paying attention anyways. Until,

“Well look at that.”

“Look at what?” He replied.

“Lando Norris and his new girlfriend just arrived, and damn is she out of his league. I’m sure it’s a money thing. In which case, I’m going to have to excuse myself from this conversation. Drivers make great money sure, but wait until she’s how well CEOs do?” He chuckled. “I’m sure she’d work hard to win me over, if you know what I mean.” He said, making his way across the room.

Lance turned and spotted her immediately. Y/N dressed in a short white beaded dress, the theme playing into the pattern. Her shiny heels lacing up her legs, making them seem infinitely long. It was only then that the previous words he heard registered. The phrase Lando’s girlfriend, the insinuation that she was a gold digger, the ill intent of the man who was on his way to her right now to try and buy her off. He turned on his heel, swallowing the rest of his drink and making his way over.

He watched at Matt?, whoever the fuck he was, was drawn into another conversation, taking the chance to reach her before he could. As he approached he heard the tail end of their conversation, “I’m not having a fucking threesome with them.” she said.

That had him stopping in place. Who was she not having a threesome with? Someone had obviously asked her. And why did she say it like that? Was someone trying to pressure her? Anger started to bubble over.

Deciding he couldn’t just stand there and stare like an idiot, he grabbed her arm, with a “Let’s go” under his breathe, before pulling her past the bar and to the nearby hallway.

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[nicoline1998enilocin]

Date night

PAIRING | Teacher!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 3.8K

SUMMARY | Bucky asked you out on a date and is pulling out all the stops to make the night absolutely unforgettable. He is the absolute perfect gentleman during the date, until both of you return to his apartment, and things get steamier than expected, but neither of you is able to wait any longer.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. The lightest sprinkle of angst, smut [ protected sex, implied aftercare ].

A/N | This one shot is part of my Teachers Universe AU, but can be read as part of the story, or a standalone one shot! I was originally going to split this into two parts but I ultimately decided against it, so here's an extra long fic for you all to enjoy! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AU Masterlist

Tonight is the night you're finally going on your date with Bucky, and he promised you it would be the most unforgettable night you would ever experience - apart from the birth of your son maybe. Joy and Sam were more than happy to watch Luca for the night, and he was excited to have a sleepover with Junior. You and Bucky decided to keep the fact that the two of you are going on a date a secret for now, since the two of you want to explore what the attraction is between both of you. It is very obvious there is a sexual one, but after talking about it, the two of you want to know if there's more than just that, and tonight will be the perfect opportunity to do just that.

All he told you is that he would pick you up on his motorcycle, and the thought of that alone already had you dripping, but of course, you didn't tell Bucky that. God, you've always enjoyed it when men - or women for that matter - can ride a motorcycle, and now would be your chance to be on the back of one with the most gorgeous man you've ever laid eyes on. You bought a new outfit for your date, and even though it is far out of your comfort zone, you're willing to risk it to impress Bucky, and maybe see his jaw end up on the floor when you open the door for him soon.

Your make-up is a bit darker than what you usually put on, but you want to continue the vibe of the outfit through, and your hair is hanging loose around your shoulders. Just when you're packing some of your essentials into your purse, you hear Bucky knock on your door, and you're trying to calm yourself a little instead of running to the door and jumping into his arms. When he knocks again you're pulled from your thoughts, and that's when you finally open the door, seeing Bucky in front of you with the most gorgeous bouquet of sunflowers. ''Hi,'' you say shyly as you take them from him, and you step aside to let him into your apartment.

''Hi doll,'' he says as he leans in to kiss you on your cheek, but he doesn't get too far when he notices what you're wearing, and he stops dead in his tracks. ''Fuck-'' is all he gets out before tearing his eyes away and walking into your apartment, so he can find something to hide the fact that he's getting hard at the sight of you looking like that. He goes to sit on the couch and tries to sit strategically so you hopefully won't notice that the pillow is a bit out of place, as he thinks of anything he can to turn soft again. ''Are you okay?'' you ask from the kitchen where you're putting the sunflowers in a vase, ready to be put on the dinner table and to brighten up the room.

''Yeah, f-fine,'' he mutters as you walk in, and you're not helping. You walk over to Bucky and sit next to him on the couch, which isn't helping him in the slightest, and he's only getting harder, to the point where it starts to physically hurt. ''I-, uh, doll, this might sound a bit- weird...'' he starts, not sure how to continue. ''But uhm, could you- do you mind putting on a different shirt? Because I'm extremely turned on right now, and I'd like to go on the date instead of staying here and just... you know, sit here awkwardly,'' he says, turning bright red from the tips of his ears down to his chest. You just chuckle lightly. ''Of course, Bucky, it's no problem. But I think I might save this top for later though,'' you say with a wink, and you get an awkward smile from Bucky in return.

You decide to change your outfit completely and get a little bit of a less risky outfit this time, but it still shows off every single curve of your body beautifully. When you walk out of the bedroom and into the living room again, you can hear Bucky let out a sigh of relief, mainly because he's finally managed to get himself back to his soft stage again, and not the incredibly painful state he was in not too long ago. He gets up and you can finally take in his outfit, which is so different from his day-to-day outfits, but it makes him look even more gorgeous than he already is. His hair is in a low bun, a few strands hanging out at the front which he keeps tucking behind his ears.

''I- I'm sorry for that, doll,'' he says with his flushed cheeks, and you walk up to him, taking his warm cheeks into your hands. ''It's okay, in all honesty, I was kind of expecting a reaction like that,'' you say as you chuckle softly. ''But this outfit is way more comfortable anyway, so I'm glad I got changed,'' you say and you stand on your tiptoes, placing a soft kiss on the edge of his jaw, right on his stubble. ''You cheeky little doll,'' he says as he pulls you in for a hug, and it feels like you never left those strong arms to begin with. ''I'm just glad you're being honest with me, I don't want you to ever feel uncomfortable with telling me how you feel,'' you say and he nods. ''Same goes for you, doll,'' he says, placing a kiss on your cheek this time.

''Are you ready to go? I have made a reservation for us and it would be horrible if we were late,'' he says and you nod. ''I'm ready,'' and you grab your purse, walking out the door with your hand interlaced with his. When the two of you reach his bike, you can see brought you a helmet too, but he had it made especially for you by Steve, one of his best friends. When he handed it to you, you could see the beautiful sunflowers painted on there, which happen to be one of your favorite flowers, and it suddenly made sense why he brought a bouquet of them for your date. ''Oh my god, Bucky, I love it so much!'' you exclaim as you pick it up, looking it over in awe. ''I hoped you would, I asked my friend, Steve, to paint them on,'' he admitted with a bit of a flush on his cheeks.

''I'm glad you did,'' you say as you lean in to kiss him on the cheek, but he's quite a bit taller than you so you have to pull him down to reach, making him giggle. His stubble tickles a little and you quickly pull away which makes him laugh fully now, and it's a sight to behold in all honesty. You never want him to stop laughing when he does it like that like he's carefree and you're the only thing that exists in his world - which right now honestly isn't that far from the truth. He gets the helmet from your hands and tucks your hair behind your ears before putting it on and closing the clasp underneath your chin. His fingers brush past the edge of your jaw and you feel little bolts of electricity at the slight touch, making you gasp slightly and your eyes close shut immediately at the feeling.

This honestly does something to Bucky, but he decides not to act on it now, because he knows that if he does, the two of you would never make it to your reservation and the rest of your night for that matter. He quickly retracts his hands and puts on his helmet, trying to distract himself a little so he won't do anything stupid. ''Ready to go, doll?'' he asks and when you nod, he swings himself over his bike first, and afterward, you're climbing on, holding onto his waist tightly. You lean forward a little bit so your front is plastered to his back, and Bucky just smiles to himself, knowing you can't see him. Little does he know, you're doing the same thing, and before you know it, Bucky's taking off towards the restaurant.

When the two of you arrive at the restaurant, you step off and Bucky quickly takes off his helmet, so he can help you with yours, and his fingers unbuckle the strap with ease, knowing he must've done that countless times by now. ''So, Steve knows about you taking me on a date?'' you suddenly blurt out, because you couldn't stop thinking about the fact that he had the helmet beautifully decorated just for you. ''I, uh, yeah. I hope you don't mind that I told him, but he's a great artist and I wanted to surprise you. I told him about you a little bit and he was very happy for me- for us, actually,'' he tells you, and now you feel bad for bringing it up like that. ''I'm sorry for bringing it up like that, of course, it's okay that you talk to your friends about your dates-'', you start before getting interrupted.

''Date, doll. Just, date. I'm not going on dates with anyone else, haven't for a long time until I met you. You awakened something in me that I can't explain,'' he says, his pupils slightly blown at the thoughts he's having. ''There's no one else I've felt about the way I feel about you, not in a long time at least. And I'm more than happy to explore this with you if you'll have me. But right now, we need to go in, doll,'' he says as he grabs your hand and leads you into the restaurant. It is a bit of a rugged-looking restaurant, and when you're seated, you realize Bucky brought you to a steakhouse. You mentioned once in passing how long it has been since you visited one, and you didn't expect him to remember, but it feels amazing that he did, it makes you feel special.

During dinner, the two of you talk a little more about his friends, and you find out he's good friends with Sam, the father of Luca's best friend Junior. ''Want to know something funny? Luca and Junior are the best of friends, and he's currently at a sleepover at their house! And Joy is my boss at the vet clinic, which makes this world feel small right now,'' you say and you can't stop laughing. You haven't felt this good in a long time, and you don't even remember the last time Steve made you feel this happy - you left him for good reasons after all. Bucky enjoyed seeing you this happy and when the moment felt right, he just placed a soft, small kiss on your lips, which took you by surprise, but you didn't show it. To everyone around you, it looked like 2 people in love just sharing a cute moment, and you were thankful for that.

When it is time for dessert you look over the menu, and can't seem to decide what you want, and it shows on your face. ''Doll, is everything okay?'' Bucky asks when he looks up from his menu. Your face turns red, and you suddenly get very shy and look away from him. Steve never liked it when you were indecisive and told you that many times, using not-so-nice words most of the time. ''Y-yeah, I'm fine,'' you say and your voice sounds small, making Bucky even more worried and he reaches for your hand over the table. You put yours in his and he closes his metal fingers around yours, and you sigh at the cooling feeling of the metal around your hand. ''You know you can tell me anything right? I don't ever want you to feel uncomfortable or feel like you can't talk to me. But only if you want to, I won't force you into talking about anything you're not comfortable with,'' he says, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes at his words.

''I-, I'm so sorry,'' you start and you're trying your hardest to keep your tears inside. ''It's just... he never liked it when I couldn't decide what I wanted, so if I ever showed any signs he would- he would withhold sex for at least a week,'' you whimpered out, trying to stay strong in the restaurant, but you were failing miserably. ''Oh my god, I knew he was an asshole already, but that just makes him a hundred times worse,'' Bucky says through gritted teeth, his Vibranium hand clenching and unclenching constantly underneath the table. All Bucky could think at that moment is 'If I were married to you, I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you, let alone withhold myself from being buried inside you every single minute of every day'.

All you do is nod and wipe away your tears in the hope your make-up still looks okay, but you just excuse yourself for a minute to go to the bathroom. ''It's okay doll, take your time. I'll be here when you come back,'' he says, a sad smile showing on his face as you get up, and walk to the bathroom. A waitress subtly followed you, trying to see if you were okay if Bucky did something wrong or maybe hurt you. ''I'm sorry if I'm overstepping here, but I wanted to see if you're okay,'' she says, and you turn your head to the soft voice coming from the woman. ''Uh, yeah. I'm sorry. It's not what you think, he's being a true gentleman, we're on a date together. I just had a bad memory of my ex-husband that broke me,'' you explain, and she walks over to you.

''Do you mind if I touch you? I just want to calm you down a little bit,'' he asks and you nod, giving her a small smile and she places her hand on your back rubbing soft circles. It helps you calm down a lot, and you're starting to feel a lot better. ''Again, I'm so sorry. I don't mean to keep you from your work,'' you say apologetically. ''It's no problem at all, I know it sucks to have an ex-husband who treats you like crap, I've gotten divorced three years ago actually,'' she says, and you turn to her fully now, and you hold out your arms to get the hug you so desperately crave right now. ''I'm so sorry to hear that,'' you say, and you realize you never even got her name.

''This may be weird to ask now, but I don't even know your name... So uh, what's your name? I'm Y/N,'' you say and the two of you burst out in laughter together, which Bucky overhears and it does calm him a little. ''Yeah no, it's okay, I didn't even think about it! My name is Aurora,'' she says and you gasp at the fact that she has a beautiful name. ''I love your name, Aurora. Did you maybe want to get a drink sometime and talk shit about our exes? It's okay if you don't want to, but you seem like a really fun person,'' you ask, suddenly getting a little nervous since you're not usually this forward with people you don't know. ''I'd love to, if you leave your number with Natty, the hostess, she can give it to me after work,'' she offers and you agree.

''Thank you so much, but I think it is time for me to go back to my date, otherwise he might think I'm leaving him or something!'' you joke, and the two of you give each other one more hug before walking out into the dining room when you're all cleaned up again. Bucky gets up from his chair to pull yours out, and it makes your cheeks heat up a little, he's very thoughtful. ''Welcome back doll, are you feeling a little better?'' he asks, and you nod. ''Yeah, I'm so sorry I had to leave you like that,'' you sigh, but Bucky doesn't mind. ''It's okay, I get it. And besides, it sounded like you made a new friend in there, so I'm glad you feel better,'' he says as he gives you a reassuring smile. You chuckle at the thought of the friend you just made, and you're feeling happy again. Steve is long forgotten and now you're just enjoying Bucky's company.

''So, dessert?'' you ask him and he breaks out a big smile, he always loves how you can think about nothing but food sometimes. ''Sounds good, is there anything that looks particularly appealing?'' Bucky asks as he looks up at you through his lashes, thinking about you. ''Hmm, there is, but sadly you're not on the menu, so I'm going to have to pick something else,'' you joke and you and Bucky laugh, he was thinking the same thing about you. After a few minutes the two of you decide to get a piece of red velvet cake to share, and before you know it it's gone, and you're on your way out. ''Oh, I have to give my number to the hostess, I'll be right back!'' you suddenly say as you rush back inside.

''Excuse me, I'm not sure if Aurora told you this, but she said I could give my number to you for now and you could pass it along to her?'' you said, and Natty, the hostess, nodded. You wrote it down on a piece of paper with another thank you and your name on it, so Aurora knew what it was about. ''Alright, now I'm ready!'' you say as you come back outside, where Bucky is waiting for you. ''Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?'' he says before wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, putting his soft lips on yours in a sweet, light kiss. ''You have, but I don't mind you telling me again if I keep getting kisses like that,'' you tease and the two of you laugh again.

Not long after you're on the back of his motorbike again, and you two are heading to his house tonight, you were planning on staying the night there so you packed some light clothing to wear the next day. He parked his bike in the garage and he let you get off first before putting it on the standard and taking both your helmets off. When yours is off he places his hands on your face again, and he places his lips on yours again, feeling like he can't stay away from them for too long. You happily kiss him back and your arms wrap around his shoulders, your hands resting on his neck. He leans down a little bit and grabs the back of your thighs so your legs can wrap around his waist.

''Bucky, please take me to your bedroom,'' you say as you pull away from him, and it sounds a little bit whiny but you don't mind how desperate you sound at this point. All you need is Bucky, and you want to feel him inside you so badly. He happily complies and walks the both of you to his bedroom, flicking on the light before laying you gently on your back. His hands start roaming over your body, touching everywhere they can reach, and then he starts to slowly undress you. When he reveals the purple lingerie you're wearing his breath catches in his throat, making you feel even more turned on than you already were. ''Bucky, don't stop,'' you say and he snaps back to what he was doing.

It doesn't take long for the both of you to be completely naked, and he is hovering over you as he kisses you softly, slowly, taking his sweet time while his achingly hard cock is resting on your thigh. ''Doll, you're so fucking gorgeous for me like this, I can't wait to be buried inside you,'' he says and he grabs a condom out of the drawer of his nightstand. He doesn't need them all that often, but he's glad he has them regardless. He quickly tears the foil apart and takes out the condom, rolling it onto his thick member without a problem. ''I'll go slow, baby, I promise,'' he says as you look down at him a little bit frowning as you're wondering how he will possibly fit inside you.

Bucky returns to kissing you again as he lines himself up at your entrance, and since you're already soaking wet he doesn't have a single problem sliding into you. At first, he only slides in the tip as he lets you adjust, the gasp you let out is letting him know how good you feel. With slow, small thrusts he slides into you deeper and deeper until he is completely buried to the hilt and he groans at the feeling of your pussy fluttering and clenching around him. ''Fuck, it feels like heaven in your walls, doll,'' Bucky says as he starts thrusting in and out, but you're already close to your orgasm so it only takes a few thrusts for you to come around him, your back arching into him, fists gripping the sheets.

''F-fuck, feels good!'' you say as the orgasm washes over you and Bucky picks up the pace. He is set on giving you one more before he even allows himself to cum, so the pace is starting to get a little more relentless. His flesh hand finds its way to your clit and he rubs small circles over it until you fall apart again with loud moans, and your pussy is gripping him like a vice this time, not wanting to let him leave. ''Jesus, doll, you're so tight around me. Gonna c-cum!'' he groans out and his thrusts get sloppy now, notifying you he's close. Your legs wrap around him and when his lips attach to yours again it doesn't take long for him to cum too.

He pulls out of you and you whine at the loss, but he doesn't go far as he pulls you in for a cuddle. ''I'm right here baby, not going anywhere,'' he says and you smile happily. ''Thank you for everything tonight, you truly made it unforgettable,'' you whisper against his chest after he cleaned the both of you up, and the two of you are both wearing one of his boxer briefs. ''I'm glad to hear that, doll. I can't wait to see what will happen on the next one,'' he says, already thinking about it, and he can't wait. The two of you fall into a peaceful slumber, and your limbs are completely intertwined when you wake up the next morning, he pulled you on top of him during the night and you feel completely at peace like this.