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#AJ Writes
ja3yun · 2 days
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The Doll House | Sim Jaeyun
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doll!jake x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), subby!jake, oral (m. rec), creampie, slight throat fucking, whimpering and whining, pet names (baby doll, pup), begging, anything else lmk! wc: 7.7k synopsis: it's your first week at your new job and you make a shocking revelation that puts your world in a spin and lets you experience something you never knew was possible masterlist | sunghoon a/n: hi! this is the first part of a 4-part series! again, i need to thank the requester for this because i am having so much fun writing it <3 the plot and everything will be gradually laced within each chapter so, while they can stand alone, it's best to read them all. thank you for everything and as always, likes, reblogs, feeback is all welcome!
p.s, please read the intro it sets up the whole story so you guys know how y/n got there and who soonyeol is.
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You've been inside this home for exactly 42 hours and 51 minutes and surprisingly nothing significant has happened.
The silence surrounding the mansion is unexpectedly comforting, providing a much-needed respite from the hectic city life you've despised. The constant noise - whether it's the cries of babies, the grumbles of angry men, or the blasting car horns powered by thoughtless road rage - has progressively worn on your tolerance. No one talks about how exhausting it all is.
Maybe this is why people go on holiday, you wonder. Even though you're here for work, there's a sense of relaxation in the air that leaves you feeling peaceful. 
Before Soonyeol went on her ominous business trip, she left you a binder full of strict instructions on how to mind her house. It’s packed to the brim with dos and don'ts such as; cooking exactly 4 meals for the dolls at 5.30pm, placing them around the dining table, and never entering their rooms unless transporting them to their recreational activities. 
Each doll had their own rigorous routine, with some reading, some playing the guitar, and so on. Soonyeol made it clear that sticking to these routines is a must, which included the difficult chore of physically changing the towering dolls in the morning and before bed. They weren’t exactly hollow or porcelain, they were super realistic, their skin had some form of heat to it, and they had some weight to them but not as heavy as they first appeared. You had asked Soonyeol what they were made of but she brushed your question off, leaving you even more curious, the only conclusion you could come up with was sandbags or clay.
Currently, you are in the kitchen, cooking up a meal that none of them will touch. Of course, you didn’t expect them to chow down on your homemade lasagna considering they couldn’t even move their mouths, but seeing everything laid out and untouched after you give them exactly 35 minutes to eat (a rule in that godforsaken binder), it fills you with a sense of unease.
Within the mansion's walls, time seems to grind to a halt unless you make it move, you as the sole animate presence amidst the silence. 
You bring the plated food into the dining room, placing a dish in front of each doll. Despite the absurdity of the situation, you play along dutifully, conscious of Mia's warning that the dolls may be rigged with hidden cameras. To be fair, their eyes do seem to follow you, or perhaps that was just your imagination.
“This is such a waste of food,” you scoff, placing the last plate down to the doll with freckles on his face who is labelled in the binder as Sunghoon. You can’t help but think about all the food that is being wasted when there are people still relying on food banks, it makes you bubble with anger, yet, you’re the one doing it. You could easily just not feed them and just pretend to Soonyeol you did, but again, the eyes that surround the castle could be the difference between you keeping this job and going back home with nothing.
Soonyeol could easily fire you if it got back to her you starved her precious babies while she was gone, and that £5,000 is enough money to get you by while you look for another job, so you’ll do as you’re told for now.
With a resigned sigh, you wipe your hands on your apron and offer a forced smile to the lifeless dolls, "Enjoy," you mutter sarcastically, before turning on your heel and retreating from the room, leaving them to their silent feast.
“Thank you!” 
The words catch you off guard, freezing you mid-step. Did you actually just hear that? Slowly, you spin on your heel, astonishment written over your face. There they sit, precisely as you left them, their expressions the same as before. Yet, undoubtedly, the voice came from their direction.
Narrowing your eyes in suspicion, you examine them closely, your fingers poking Sunghoon’s shoulder to try and elicit any response, but one never comes. 
You could have sworn you heard a voice, a soft accent drifting into your ears. It’s not like it could have been the TV or radio, Soonyeol was lacking in the entertainment department, opting for more classic ways to entertain herself like board games and books.
"This place is making me lose my mind," you scoff, disbelief mingling with a nervous laugh. You are officially losing the plot, thinking the dolls can suddenly speak. What’s next, they’ll suddenly get up and help you with the dishes?
Maybe you just need to go for a walk around the mansion, touch some grass or whatever. Your mind needs some nature to set itself straight. With a final incredulous glance at the dolls, you shake your head, dismissing your fanciful worries. 
Stepping into the garden, you're greeted by the warmth of the summer sun kissing your skin. The sprawling lawn stretches for acres, overgrown yet hinting at hidden beauty beneath the tangled vines and moss-covered statues.
The pathway is clear, giving you a chance to wander further into the field. With some TLC and a green thumb, you ponder whether you could turn this landscape into a true garden, it’s not like there is much else to do, but would Soonyeol be okay with that? Everything else in this house is seemingly stuck in a different century; the large gold-framed portraits, the scatter of porcelain dolls that look like something straight from a horror movie, and the furnishings scream Renaissance. Maybe she prefers it that way.
You are perplexed by the mystery surrounding Soonyeol and her isolated living. A lack of information about her and this home has you grasping at straws. The mansion has no internet or even a good phone service which raises your suspicions about her more. There is only a landline phone that is set to make local calls. All you've learned from this information is why she resorted to placing a job advertisement in the newspaper.
Questions swirl in your mind. Why choose such isolation? Living alone, devoid of company or modern comforts, seems unimaginable. Two months might be tolerable, but for someone to endure years in solitude, it's perplexing. But then again, who are you to judge? She might prefer her own company and God knows there must be a lot less drama.
Lost in thought, you reach out to touch a thorn from a withered rosebush, only to recoil in pain as it pricks your index finger, "Shit!" you shout, instinctively sucking on the wound as blood wells up. Why you felt driven to touch such an obviously dangerous plant escapes you completely.
Sulking back inside the house, you walk directly to the kitchen, the sight of familiar surroundings provides some consolation as you go towards the sink, your injured finger throbbing with each step. Who knew a thorn could cause so much damage?
You reach for the basin and turn on the cold tap, hoping for a little relief. As chilled water falls over your wound, you sigh with relief, the coolness relieving the pain immensely, with a sudden sensation of peace flowing over you. 
The clock's chime breaks through the quiet, jolting you back into reality. It's 6pm so it's time to tend to the dolls again. You reach to get a plaster from the first aid kit, only to find it empty except for a single bandage and some foil blankets. Panic sets in as you examine the seriousness of your bleeding finger; it’s a neverending flow of crimson which only makes you pout, sucking on it once again.
Desperately searching the kitchen cupboards, you find bits of kitchen roll and sellotape. It's not ideal, but you have no other choice. You gently wrap the kitchen roll around your wound, securing it with sticky tape. The improvised dressing will have to suffice; the thought of spilling your blood on Soonyeol's cherished dolls sends chills down your spine. You don't want to think about what she would do.
Stepping into the dining room, you're greeted by the familiar sight: cold food arranged neatly before the four unyielding dolls. Their impassive stares seem to pierce through you, sending a chill down your spine.
With a theatrical pout and arms crossed, you address the silent company, "Didn't quite hit the mark with my culinary masterpiece, huh?" you jest, met only with the silence of inanimate figures. Chuckling to yourself, you gather the untouched plates onto the cart, contemplating a pragmatic solution, "Well, I suppose I could just freeze these and give them to you tomorrow," you quip. Soonyeol said to feed them, she didn’t say it couldn't be the same meal over and over again.
After clearing up the dining hall and putting the meals in the freezer, you make your way to retrieve the rusty wheelchair you are convinced will give you tetanus from the hallway closet. It’s the easiest way to transport the boys from A to B, and you daren’t carry them anywhere in case you drop and smash them. 
As you unfold the chair, a creak reverberates from behind you, causing your muscles to tense involuntarily. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as a chill courses through your veins. While the old house has its usual symphony of creaks and groans, this sound feels different, more sinister, as if someone - or something - is lurking in the shadows.
“Hello?” you say whispering yet not daring to look behind you. If you have learned anything from the multitude of horror movies you’ve watched over the tears, it’s that as soon as you look back, all shit breaks loose.
You stand there with your heart pounding in your chest and you scold yourself inwardly for succumbing to irrational fear, "Come on, Y/N, pull yourself together," you mutter, attempting to rally your nerves. But the silence that follows your whispered reassurance only amplifies the unease settling in the pit of your stomach.
With a resigned sigh, you steel yourself for whatever may lie behind you, “Fuck, Y/N, just turn around. If you’re going to die, you might as well get it over with,” you chide yourself, voice tinged with frustration.
Thinking it’s best to just face whatever your demise is, you swiftly turn around, half-expecting to come face-to-face with some unseen terror. Yet, all that greets you is the empty hallway, bathed in the dim glow of the flickering lights. There's no sign of an intruder, no lurking threat—just the same mundane surroundings you've grown accustomed to.
You never thought you’d think this, but you’re happy to see the tiny collector dolls that line the hallway.
A mixture of relief and embarrassment floods over you as you realize the absurdity of your fears. "God, I'm losing it," you mutter, a manic laugh bubbling up from deep within. With a self-deprecating shake of your head, you lightly slap your forehead with the base of your palm, chastising yourself for letting your imagination run wild.
First, the talking dolls, now this unfounded paranoia—it's becoming increasingly clear that the isolation of this mansion is taking its toll on your sanity. 
Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you shake off the lingering unease and embarrassment to focus on your duties. 
With a determined stride, you make your way back to the dining room, the memory of your brief bout of hysteria fading into the recesses of your mind. You push the wheelchair over to the table to retrieve one of the dolls, however, a glint of blue catches your eye.
A plaster - suddenly, inexplicably there, resting in front of the doll named Jongseong.
Your brow furrows in confusion, disbelief coursing through you. "How... was that there the whole time?" you mutter, disbelief colouring your tone as you glance between your injured finger and the God-sent plaster.
With a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, you reach out to pick up the plaster, examining it closely as if searching for any sign of trickery. But it appears to be nothing more than an ordinary adhesive plaster.
"Okay, this is getting ridiculous," you mutter to yourself, unable to suppress a nervous chuckle. The rational part of your mind insists there must be a logical explanation for the plaster's sudden appearance, but logic seems to have taken a backseat in this peculiar mansion. 
Surely you would have noticed it on the table when you were serving the food…right?
Deciding to set aside your questions for the moment, you carefully retrieve the plaster and apply it to your injured finger, the soothing sensation providing a small measure of comfort.
As you finish tending to your wound, you cast a wary glance at the dolls, half-expecting them to spring to life and offer an explanation. But they remain as silent and motionless as ever, their enigmatic presence only adding to the mystery of this place.
With a resigned sigh, you focus once again on getting the dolls to their rooms. Maybe if they’re out of your sight, you’ll stop conjuring up these ridiculous notions that are swirling in your mind.
“C’mon Jaeyun, let’s get you to bed,” you say softly as you pick him up with a strong heave. The weight of him in your arms is a humbling realisation that you need to start going to the gym more because lifting a doll shouldn’t be this taxing.
Plonking him onto the wheelchair, you begin to make your way to his room. The corridors grow longer each time you make the journey to their respective bedrooms and with the house being the size that it is, transporting them is the equivalent of taking a quick nip to your big Tesco and back.
Finally reaching Jaeyun's room, you turn the ornate handle and push the wheelchair inside. The room is bathed in a soft, amber glow, casting a warm hue over the plush furnishings and intricate decor. With careful precision, you guide Jaeyun onto the bed, taking a moment to study his features up close.
The doll's face, once unsettling in its hyper-realistic detail, now holds a curious fascination. Despite the initial unease you felt in their presence, you can't help but admire the craftsmanship that went into their creation.
Jaeyun's eyes, a rich shade of brown, hold a mesmerising depth that seems to draw you in and they glimmer with an almost golden hue when touched by sunlight, adding a touch of ethereal beauty to his already captivating features. His lips, full and luscious and they evoke sense of envy into you, marvelling at their perfection. His nose, a graceful arc that sits harmoniously amidst his features, only adds to the beauty.
With gentle admiration, you touch his bottom lip with your thumb, amazed at its softness. If Jaeyun were a living, breathing being, you can't help but imagine how irresistible those lips would be, how you would find any excuse to steal a kiss. The feel of his lip beneath your thumb is uncannily real, its texture mirroring your own, and as you release it, it springs back into place as if alive.
Your eyes dart over his face, drinking him in as you fix his long, dark hair, “You’re so beautiful,” you whisper, the words leave your lips almost unintentionally, spoken in peaceful tones as if frightened to disrupt the calm tranquillity of the moment. 
“Thank you.”
Your entire body goes rigid as you hear the same words from the dining table, mirroring the exact accent you had heard before. The hand that had been gently brushing aside the stray strand of hair now drops to your side, your eyes fixed on Jaeyun's mouth as it forms into a bright smile.
As if gasping for air, you stare at him in disbelief, pointing a trembling finger in his direction. "Y-you just spoke!" you manage to exclaim, your words choked with bated breaths. Panic threatens to engulf you as you try to understsnd what is happening.
Your mind races, grasping for something, anything to hold onto as the world spins around you but there's nothing, and your body betrays you, collapsing to the ground in a desperate attempt to escape the surreal nightmare unfolding before you.
With wide, terrified eyes, you watch as Jaeyun moves slightly, preparing yourself for the inevitable scream that threatens to tear from your throat. But before you can utter a sound, he rushes towards you with a look of panic etched on his features.
Jaeyun's eyes are filled with concern as he gazes down at you, his hand covering your mouth to stifle any outcry. With a gentle yet urgent expression, he leans in closer, his lips forming almost silent words as he implores you to remain quiet, “Please. Shhh, I’m sorry!” he says with urgency, trying to stop you from bellowing out and causing alarm.
Your chest rises and falls with the rapid beat of your heart, your head suddenly feels faint and conflicting emotions wash over you. Fear, confusion, disbelief - all vie for dominance as you struggle to make sense of the impossible situation unfolding before you.
With wide, frightened eyes, you stare up at Jaeyun, searching his face for any sign of explanation or reassurance. But all you find is the same look of concern mirrored in his gaze, a silent plea for understanding.
“I promise, I’m not going to hurt you,” he utters, his body now relaxing as he feels your mouth close under his palm, “If I take my hand away, please don’t scream, okay?” 
His words are filled with panic, a frantic attempt to prevent more concern. When you look into his eyes, you can sense the sincerity in his plea, a glimpse of humanity you didn't think was possible.
For a moment, the world seems to stand still, the air thick with tension and uncertainty on both of your parts. But then, with a shaky breath, you nod in silent acquiescence, willing yourself to trust the doll before you. 
Jaeyun’s hand slowly withdraws from your mouth but is still armed in case you fall through on your promise to stay quiet. Once he's satisfied that you won't scream, Jaeyun rises to his feet, offering you a shaky hand. You accept, noting the slight tremor in his grip, evidence that he's just as affected by this inexplicable turn of events as you are.
Standing before him, you can't shake the feeling of disbelief that washes over you. None of this makes sense - talking dolls, moving on their own accord - it's all so implausible, so surreal. And yet, here you are, faced with the undeniable reality of Jaeyun's existence.
"What are you?" you ask tentatively, withdrawing your hand from his as you study him intently, searching for any clues to unravel the mystery.
Jaeyun tilts his head in confusion, his expression mirroring your own bewilderment. "I'm a doll, you know that," he replies matter-of-factly.
"Yes, but how are you moving? How are you speaking? Are you possessed? Alive? Am I dreaming this?" you barrage him with questions, your mind racing with a million possibilities, each more absurd than the last.
“I’m Sim Jaeyun, manufactured in 2002,” Jaeyun says as though it’s so obvious, which to his defence, it is - the stamp on his back that you’ve caught sight of while changing him is proof, "I'm the model made for Australia. G'day mate!" he adds, attempting to inject some levity into the conversation with an exaggerated Australian accent. But his efforts fall flat in the face of your mounting terror and confusion.
"I don't understand," you whisper, your voice trembling with uncertainty, "How is this possible?"
Jaeyun's expression softens, sympathy flickering in his eyes as he meets your gaze, "I wish I had all the answers," he admits, his voice gentle yet tinged with resignation, "But the truth is, even I don't fully understand what's happening to me. I ended up here one day. The others just tell me not to ask questions.”
As Jaeyun's words sink in, a surge of disbelief sweeps over you, threatening to overwhelm you in a sea of bewilderment and despair, "Others? You mean..."
"My brothers, the ones you've been looking after for Soonyeol," Jaeyun says, his voice calm.
The realisation hits you like a tonne of bricks: all four dolls, like Jaeyun, are somehow alive. You've spent the last two days living under the same roof as these living dolls, entirely oblivious of their true selves. The idea of it sends shivers down your spine, and a dreadful feeling rises in the pit of your stomach.
Every creak in the floorboards, every echo in the halls - you had chalked them up to the ageing mansion itself. But now, you realise that they were caused by these living dolls moving about, silently watching and listening to your every move.
You contemplate the idea that you're going insane because the stress and isolation of the mansion have finally taken their toll on your sanity. But deep down, you know that this is far too real to be a figment of your imagination.
Sensing your distress, Jaeyun guides you to sit beside him on the bed, his touch gentle yet strangely disconcerting. A doll is offering you comfort while your mind is in a whirlwind of emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. In what world is any of this normal?
His thumb strokes the back of your hand as you sit in silence. A small smile creeps on his face and a blush somehow paints itself on the apples of his cheeks as he remembers your earlier comments.
“You think I’m beautiful?” he asks gently, drawing you back into reality from the maze of your mind.
“What?”
"You said I was beautiful," he repeats, his tone gentle yet earnest, his eyes filled with a quiet joy. Jaeyun's smile widens slightly, his body shifting to fully face you.
As you finally meet his gaze, the weight of his words settles upon you, and you see just how much your earlier compliment meant to him. The twinkle in his eye reflects a depth of emotion that mirrors that of a human, his happiness evident in the way his features soften and his eyes light up with warmth. If he was beautiful before, he is otherworldly now.
“Yeah…you are,” you confess, now reciprocating his blush.
Jaeyun's hand gently cups your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine and you can't help but feel something blossom within you. His palm, slightly cool against your flushed skin, serves as a reminder of the surreal reality in which you find yourself.
Jaeyun's lips suddenly meet yours, enveloping you with his gentle kiss. Touching his lips earlier paled in comparison to the sensation of his soft, plump mouth moving against yours, and it sends a shiver of pleasure coursing through your veins; for a fleeting moment, you allow yourself to be swept away by the intensity of the moment.
But as reality crashes back down upon you, the weight of what you're doing comes crashing down.
This is a doll, not a real person.
You push Jaeyun away and your mind suddenly clears, “What are you doing, Jaeyun?” you ask both perplexed by his actions and a little disgruntled by yours.
His wide eyes only serve to make you feel guilty, there’s a tinge of hurt in them along with confusion. His hand removes itself from your face, leaving your cheek cold and craving his touch again.
"Soonyeol says I should kiss when I want to show my appreciation," Jaeyun explains, his voice tinged with confusion and a defeated tone that tugs at your heartstrings. It's clear that he's not accustomed to being rejected like this, his owner obviously giving him what he wants.
Now that you think about it, Soonyeol must know they’re real, meaning she has relationships with these dolls. Granted, you figured that out when you were undressing them and saw they are anatomically correct, but now this is a whole new layer. She has formed connections with them that go beyond using the dolls for her pleasure. 
"Isn't it cheating?" you ask, locking eyes with Jaeyun, ignoring your swift realisation of the risk. Those beautiful brown eyes seem to draw you in, inviting you to forget all reason and succumb to the burning need between you.
He shakes his head slowly, a tinge of hesitation in his eyes as he chews his lip, "No. Soonyeol shares us, which means I can be shared. It's how it works," he says, his words laced with desperation as he tries to defend his actions. He knows Soonyeol won’t see it that way, but he needs you for his own selfish pleasure; he can’t wait two months until his minder comes back.
However, the rational half of your mind perks up one last time, refusing to be influenced by Jaeyun's words, forcing you to express the painfully evident reality that lies between you, "You're a doll, Jaeyun," you say, the words thick with reality.
However, as if feeling your wavering resolve, Jaeyun's demeanour changes, his puppy-like appearance giving way to one of mischief and longing. With a sudden boldness, he comes in closer, your noses touching as your breath hits his lips.
"I'm a doll with everything you need," he says seductively, sending shivers down your spine as his luscious lips brush against yours with each syllable. 
Your heart races as Jaeyun's proximity overwhelms your senses. Despite the nagging voice of reason in the back of your mind, you find yourself unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence.
As Jaeyun leans in for another kiss, his persistence and gentle touch send a rush of heat coursing through your body. You find yourself melting into his embrace once more, unable to resist his lips on yours. His smile against your mouth fills you with something beautiful.
His hand finds your cheek, his touch tender yet possessive as he deepens the kiss, sending your senses reeling. The surreal sensation of his tongue, colder than any other person's you’ve had the pleasure to kiss, intertwining with yours only adds to the intensity of the moment.
But as the kiss grows more passionate, you feel Jaeyun's hands begin to roam, his touch becoming more urgent and insistent. The way he impatiently tugs at the hem of your t-shirt and his hips practically humping the air through desperation, heightens your own arousal.
You draw back, taking your shirt off, giving him what he wants. Jaeyun's eyes light up in delight at the sight before him, his gaze raking over your exposed skin with hunger. Without hesitation, his hand instinctively reaches out to touch you, his fingers grazing over the fabric of your bra as he seeks to explore every inch of your body.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, as he stares up at you. You understand why he’s so used to getting his way, that face of his could start wars if he asked. 
With a soft smile, your fingers continuing to thread through his hair with a gentle touch, "Nothing in comparison to you," you confess, your words spoken with genuine admiration.
Jaeyun's response is a soft whimper, his body trembling slightly under your touch as he leans into your caress. It's clear that he thrives on the affection and validation you offer him, cherishing every compliment and sweet gesture. He isn’t going to take control of this situation, he wants you to lead him, to make him feel like he is yours.
And he looks so fuckable right now.
Feeling emboldened by the rush of desire coursing through your veins, you seize the opportunity to take control of the situation. With a newfound confidence, you gently push Jaeyun back onto the bed, straddling him as you hover above.
His eyes widen in surprise, a mix of anticipation and excitement flickering in their depths as he watches you with rapt attention. With a playful glint in your eyes, you lean down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your hands trailing down his chest and exploring every contour of his body.
Jaeyun responds eagerly, his hands roaming over your back as he returns your kiss with equal fervour. But as the heat between you intensifies, you can sense his longing for more, his desire for you palpable in every touch and caress.
You plaster on a mischievous smile and lean back slightly, teasingly tracing your fingers along the waistband of his pants. He hitches in anticipation, his eyes darkening with desire as he silently urges you to continue.
With deliberate slowness, you begin to unbutton his pants, savouring the feeling of power that courses through you with each movement. As the fabric falls away, you're met with the sight of his cock outline, his arousal evident in the way he strains against the confines of his underwear.
You lean down to press your lips against his neck, trailing soft kisses along his jawline as you whisper in his ear, "Do you want me to look after you, baby doll?"
He mewls out and nods quickly, knowing that is the only thing he needs right now. Your touch is different to Soonyeol’s, yours is filled with a new fire that you’re discovering, while Soonyeol’s is experienced and knows of Jaeyun’s wants and needs. He can’t deny that he feels even more alive than before right now.
Trailing one finger over his clothed cock, you apply pressure as you reach his tip, causing him to whine out. You aren’t typically in charge in the bedroom but you can’t deny how easy it is when Jaeyun is underneath you, silently begging for you to claim him.
You pull down his boxers, seeing his cock in a new light. Honestly, you tried not to stare at it too long when you changed him but you knew whatever Soonyeol had ordered, she ordered it with herself in mind. He was average-sized but curved to the right, meaning he could hit places some others couldn’t; even the thought made your mouth water.
There’s a desire to know how his cock is standing to attention considering there isn’t any blood in his body, but this whole situation defies logic so what’s one more question to add to the pile? All you can really think about is how good having him inside you will feel.
Grabbing his length, you begin to pump him gently, still trying to navigate how fragile he is and how far you can take this. He isn’t made of glass but you still need to be careful. 
His reaction is immediate, his jaw slackening as you pick up the pace, your movements becoming more assured. Jaeyun’s legs kick slightly as his body involuntarily moves under your touch, desperate for more than you’re offering him.
Sensing his need, you lean in and give his cock a teasing lick before spitting on it, slickening the surface to make your motions even smoother. His breath hitches at the sensation, a low groan escaping his lips as he arches into your touch, craving more of the pleasure you're giving him.
With a hunger that matches his own, you release him from your grip and lean down, taking him into your mouth with a slow, deliberate motion. His gasp fills the air as you envelop him, the wet heat of your mouth sending shivers down his spine.
"Y/N..." Jaeyun's voice is barely a whisper, filled with a mix of disbelief and pleasure.
You glance up at him, meeting his gaze with a smouldering intensity before returning your focus to the task at hand. With practiced skill, you move your lips and tongue in tandem, exploring every inch of him with a fervour that leaves him trembling. 
There is an urge to look after him, with each whine and whimper he screeches out in response to your tongue flicking over his tip, you want to cherish him as your own. You carefully watch his face to make sure he is enjoying himself which clearly he is, his eyes screwed shut and chest heaving despite the lack of air.
Pushing his length further into your mouth, you feel the tip of him hit the back of your throat, piercing your tonsils as they involuntarily try to swallow around him. You switch between bobbing your mouth and enveloping his whole cock down your throat, staying there for a moment as you nuzzle your nose against his lower abdomen.
His fingers thread through your hair, a silent plea for more as you continue to lavish attention on him, each suck and swirl of your tongue pushing him closer to the edge of ecstasy.
"Oh god, Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with need. "I-I can't... I'm gonna..."
Can he cum? Like physically, is your mouth about to be filled with doll cum? You’re going to find out eventually.
But who says he can get everything he wants just at the bat of an eyelid?
You pull back slightly, your lips glistening with saliva as you gaze up at him with a wicked grin. "Not yet," you tease, your voice husky from the beating your throat has just taken, "I want to hear you beg for it.”
His eyes widen with anticipation, a need burning in their depths as he watches you, “But Soonyeol always lets me cum,” he pouts, the edges of his mouth drooping down.
“I’m not Soonyeol though, am I?” you retort, your hand stroking him again, “I can stop completely if you want?” 
Jaeyun doesn’t like that idea, shaking his head manically and chanting ‘no’ as he looks at you with pleading eyes. His minder is kind, always giving him the pleasure he needs when he wants it, so this is new to him, yet, he can’t help but find some pleasure in the prolonging of his orgasm.
“Come on, baby doll, beg for it,” you murmur against his tip, looking up at him through hooded eyes as you tease the tip of his cock.
His breath catches in his throat at your words, his mind a haze of desire as he struggles to find his voice, "Please, Y/N," he gasps, his voice thick with need, "Please let me cum. I need it, I need you so bad."
The desperation in his voice and his tiny weeps send a shiver down your spine, and with a satisfied smirk, you relent, taking him fully into your mouth again. 
You aren’t like this in bed but he just manages to bring out this side of you and you can’t complain about it. 
As Jaeyun's fingers tangle in your hair, a shiver of anticipation courses through you, heightened by the primal instinct driving his actions. You feel the tension building in his body, his movements becoming more urgent as he approaches the brink of release.
With a final tug at your roots, he tightens, his balls drawing up as he releases into your mouth with a guttural groan of pleasure. His hips buck uncontrollably, driving himself deeper into your throat as he rides the waves of ecstasy coursing through him.
You surrender to the moment, allowing him to take control as he thrusts into your mouth, his movements are rough yet achingly intimate. Each sensation sends sparks of pleasure racing through you, mingling with the taste of him on your tongue as he spurts his essence. It’s not exactly cum, it doesn’t taste like it, but it’s filling your mouth up, some of it dripping out onto the bed below you.
And as he finally reaches the peak of his pleasure, his body trembling with the force of his release, you swallow him down, accepting him completely. You lap up the last few drops before giving a gentle kiss on his bell, smiling slightly as you relish in your work.
Jaeyun’s face exhibits one of pure bliss, his grin wide and his eyes closed. He looks so ethereal right now, your only wish is to cater to him. Soonyeol must have her hands full if she does this with all of them, no wonder she would need two months off.
Sitting up, his hands pull at your jeans, unbuttoning them with determination but you stop him, “Jaeyun, what are you doing?” you ask.
“I’m going to fuck you, is that not okay?” Jaeyun’s eyes have that spark in them just like before but more intense, like he’s bursting to the brim with happiness.
You can see the determination in Jaeyun's eyes, the fire of desire burning bright despite the recent climax. His eagerness to please you matches your own desire to cater to him, but you can't help but feel a twinge of apprehension.
"Are you not tired, Jaeyun?" you reply gently, placing a hand on his cheek to capture his attention, “I don't want to push you too far."
Jaeyun's expression softens at your words, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity, “I’m a doll, Y/N, I don’t get tired.”
Damn, maybe you should invest in one of these unalive-alive dolls with the £5,000 you’ll get from this job.
He sees your astonishment and laughs softly, his teeth on full display, “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re confused, Y/N,” his voice is back down to a whisper, his hand enclosing yours on his cheek as he nuzzles into it. Jaeyun knows how to use his charm to get what he wants but it’s significantly easier when the person he is trying to persuade wants it just as much as he does.
You find yourself nodding in agreement, unable to resist his enticement. With a shared understanding, you move in to capture his lips in yours, sealing the moment with a delicate kiss.
His hands go back to work, pulling at your jeans to take them off of your hot body. You help him out, pulling away from his mouth to undress yourself, leaving you both naked and wanting nothing more than to be entangled in one another.
“Wow,” he utters as his eyes trail your body from head to toe. His owner is beautiful but you have something about you that is sucking him in, the curve of your hips and the stretch marks on your thighs; you’re a vision he never wants to forget.
You turn scarlet as you see him staring at you, suddenly feeling less confident than before. But he quickly eases your mind as he licks his lips and pulls you into his lap, placing you to sit right on his cock, “I think you were wrong earlier,” he mutters into your shoulder as he places kisses along your chest.
“What do you mean?” Confusion lingers in your mind as you process his words, your fingers instinctively tangling in his hair as you look down at him with a mixture of surprise and affection.
“When you said you weren’t as beautiful compared to me. I think you’re so wrong,” he admits in a hushed tone, hands roaming along your waist and down to your thighs, feeling every inch of you.
Leaning down, you kiss him again except this time, you grind your hips, letting his cock slide between your folds and his tip brush against your clit teasingly. The action makes you both groan out in lust, wanting nothing more than to be tangled in one another. 
Jaeyun lightly slaps your ass to signal you to hover slightly, ready to dive into you. He hasn’t had sex with anyone other than Soonyeol so his eagerness is palpable, his mouth fighting a bright smile akin to a puppy.
Once you’re above him, he guides his cock to your hole and sharply pushes into you, causing you to fall forward onto his chest.
He enthusiastically bucks his hips up into you, ensuring that he is catering to every inch of your pleasure. Although he enjoys being looked after and cared for, he will always reciprocate; your enjoyment is as important to him as his own.
It's funny how different he is with you than with his owner; with you, he wants nothing more than to impress you, evident by the way he's focused on fucking into you, but with Soonyeol, he does whatever he wants to give her pleasure but there's no need to put in massive amounts of effort.
You feel his dick pressing deep into you, that curve that you noticed earlier is now doing wonders against your walls. Meeting his thrusts, you bounce on him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pick up your pace. 
The sound of your skin slapping against Jaeyun is like music to his ears, the smile he was trying to fight off now splitting his face, the joy of fucking you so obvious from his expression. He wants to do this forever.
Looking down, you see him lost in glee and lust as he continues to thrust up into you at a fast pace, his gaze down at where you’re pussy is sucking him in. Gently, you lift his face to look at you, his wide gleaming eyes now staring into yours.
“You’re doing so good, pup,” you assure him, kissing the tip of his nose. He feels his non-existant heart soar at your words, his face radiant with your praise. And you weren’t just saying it, he truly was sensational, probably the best you’ve had in a long time. 
Jaeyun takes your words of appraisal and uses them to fuck into you harder, his mouth now attached to your nipple and he sucks and licks at it like a man starved.
You can feel that familiar coil in your stomach that signifies you’re close to release. Snaking your hand down to your clit you begin to rub circles on it quickly, but as soon as Jaeyun notices, he nudges your hand away and takes care of it himself, rubbing and pinching it between his thumb and pointer finger.
Throwing your head back, your breathing stops momentarily as you push out your orgasm, your wetness coating your inner thighs and his cock as you cum harshly around him, “Jaeyun, fuck!” you cry, hands gripping any part of Jaeyun they can.
Jaeyun shudders as you clench around him, spilling himself into your heat along with you. He rubs his face desperately against your tits, relishing in the feeling of you against him. He has this aching need to be as close to you as possible.
Both of you are in complete and utter bliss as you hold one another, coming down from your highs.
As Jaeyun peppers open-mouthed kisses along your neck, he savours the sensation of your heartbeat, saddened slightly by his lack of. If he had one, he wished you could hear how loudly it was beating from pure satisfaction and tenderness.
"That was incredible, Y/N," he murmurs against the curve of your nape, his smile pressing warmly against your skin.
You tenderly kiss the top of his head and linger there for a moment, your fingers tracing light strokes along his back. But as the clock chimes once again, signalling the passage of time, reality intrudes upon your blissful moment.
"Fuck, I need to get the others to bed," you say regretfully, reluctantly withdrawing yourself from Jaeyun's embrace. The air feels colder now that night is settling in, and the absence of his touch leaves you longing for his warmth.
Jaeyun watches you with a mixture of understanding and longing as you get dressed, his gaze following your movements with a hint of reluctance, he wants you to stay beside him the way Soonyeol does, to look after him a little longer.
Before you part ways, Jaeyun reaches out to gently grasp your hand, "Y/N," he begins, his voice soft yet filled with urgency, "Please, don't tell the others. We aren’t supposed to tell you, and they already think I’m incapable of keeping a secret,” he says disheartened, the last sentence laced with vulnerability.
His plea catches you off guard, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes. Kneeling beside the bed, you take his hand into yours and kiss it softly, “I promise, I will not tell anyone, okay?” you reassure him, punctuating your sentiment with a smile, “This stays between us.”
It’s a promise not only to him but also to yourself. At the end of the day, no matter how good it was, you fucked a doll - an alive one, but still a doll. 
With a grateful smile, Jaeyun leans in to press a gentle kiss against your lips, a silent gesture of gratitude for your understanding, “Thank you, Y/N. This won’t be the last time, will it?” he asks tentatively, trying to seek out how you might feel about the entirety of the situation.
You weigh up the question in your mind. On one hand, you would have someone to talk to and indulge in, but on the other, it’s risky and if Soonyeol found out, you know there would be hell to pay.
“Let’s just see how it goes, pup,” you say vaguely, kissing his forehead one more time.
This mansion is filled with secrets that you need to uncover, and you have two months to do it.
taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emikotakayami @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre
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Okay this one's been stuck in my head all day but I have absolutely time to write it so please share this vision with me
Try as they might, Steve and Robin couldn't get tickets to Chrissy Cunningham's arena tour, but they could get tickets to a festival she was playing.
The last thing Steve ever wanted to do was go and stand in a muddy field for sixteen hours while they waited for the headline act. But he was pretty sure Robin was in love with her favourite musician, and he wasn't about to deny his best friend a chance at love.
So he helped her make personalised t-shirts because honestly all the other bands in the line-up kinda sounded like they sucked.
His read, "Only Here for Chrissy" on the front and "I'm Steve" on the back and Robin's read "Chrissy, Will You Be My Girlfriend?" on the front and "If Lost, Please Return To Steve" on the back.
And it turned out, as they stood against the barrier in a not so muddy field, on a lovely, warm, but overcast, May day, that even bands that sucked could be fun. Even if it was only because they spent their day with earplugs in, so their eardrums wouldn't combust, bitching about each artist's lack of ability to put notes or an outfit together.
During the lunchtime intermission, the pair made friends with the lesbian couple next to them, Kayla and Jess, who were also eagerly awaiting Chrissy's set and similarly liked to mock those who committed crimes against sound and fashion. Steve was glad to have met them, they were really nice, and he felt better about leaving her to use the bathroom or to fetch food, knowing Robin was in safe hands.
He also felt better about letting her wander off, not that it stopped him from stressing out when she and Kayla had been missing for over fifteen minutes. He spread himself out to keep their places against the railing with his back to the stage, watching the crowd intently. Jess wasn't quite as chatty once they were alone, but she seemed content enough, bobbing along to the band that'd appeared on the stage.
Steve didn't turn back around to face the stage until he spotted the girls heading back towards them, he gave them a wave and turned around to look at the guys who hadn't been attempting to destroy anyone's hearing and was met with the face of the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen. Pretty face, long curly hair tied up in a bun, muscle tee showing off his many tattoos, piercings and chains and glittery Docs; Steve felt himself owl blink and blush.
God's gift to mankind was kneeling centre stage, guitar in hand making the most beautiful sounds Steve had ever heard as his fingers flew over the strings, and it was only when the rest of the band kicked back in that the man looked up, winked directly at Steve, and then jumped back to his feet, spending the rest of the song bouncing around the stage.
Steve only realised his mouth was agape when Robin finally arrived next to him and elbowed him hard in the ribs, giving him the same look she did whenever he was embarrassing in the club. He watched the rest of the Corroded Coffin, according to the backdrop, set in awe. Screaming and clapping along when they wished everyone a great day, throwing picks and drumsticks into the crowd and taking a bow; patting each other on the back as they wandered offstage.
As soon as it was quiet again, Robin wanted to know what the hell was wrong with his face and honestly, he couldn't answer her. He didn't even believe in love, not for himself at least, and he certainly didn't believe in love at first sight. It didn't stop him from spending the next couple of hours watching the faces at the sides of the stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of his new favourite guitarist, though.
As soon as Chrissy hit the stage, Steve got lost, between filming the set and watching Robin trying not to hyperventilate when Chrissy spotted her t-shirt, pointed to her, and giving her a coy little wink, blew her a kiss.
"An old school friend is here with me tonight, and I'd like him to help me out with this next track. Especially for the beauty in the front row, this is Girlfriend!"
The crowd went wild as the beat kicked in, but Steve was still watching Robin because it looked like she'd stopped breathing altogether. That was until she gasped loudly and started smacking Steve in the way she always did whenever she got overly excited; pointing wildly at the stage, and it was only when he looked over he saw Corroded Coffins guitarist bouncing up and down next to Chrissy.
Instead of the black muscle vest and skinny jeans he'd been sporting earlier in the day, he had changed into pale blue board shorts and a baggy white t-shirt that read "Hey Steve!" written in black sharpie with a giant winking smiley face underneath that could only really be seen when he swung his guitar around his back to copy Chrissy's dance moves.
The song ended, and the friends hugged, Chrissy waving him off the stage and calling out, "Eddie Munson everybody!" letting the crowd go wild for her friend before launching into the rest of her set.
By the time Chrissy had actually left the stage, Robin looked exhausted, having screamed and sung and danced herself out. They hung around a bit, said goodbye to Kayla and Jess, wishing them a safe journey home, and they were just taking one last look at the now empty stage when he heard someone yell his name...
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voidartisan · 3 months
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doing some work on the order-66-never-happened au (calling it the "happy ending au" feels like a bit of a stretch at this point bc. reasons) and trying to come up with what cody would wear as a civilian. decided it was probably the star wars equivalent of flannels, jeans, and hiking/cowboy boots. realized that this is probably something strikingly similar to jedi robes. cried. still don't know what rex is going to pick even though i'm writing a shopping trip scene with him and ahsoka.
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It's Not Over (Till The Mockingjay Sings)
Summery: The day Katniss is meant to be reaped to go into the Quarter Quell changes when the fourth and first District 12 victor returns mysteriously. And takes her place. A/N- So. I could write this whole fic out and be neat about posting chapters. Or I could just hold myself accountable by giving you all my first chapter and allowing you all to pester me about. Meaning- YES! Please know there is more of this coming and my goal of posting this first part is to get bugged about finishing it quickly XD. Anyways, this is gonna be so much fun to write I am extreamly excited.
"I volunteer." The voice, older and worn but confident enough to be heard above the crowd.
Katniss is almost convinced she is dreaming. This isn't real; it can't be. She is the only living female victor of District 12 and would be going into the Games again. She'd use it to save Peeta. That was the plan. Since the announcement, it had been her unwavering goal. How could anyone volunteer for her?
The crowd parts, and who comes through makes her shock even worse. An older woman, olive-skinned like her, curly dark loose around her shoulders. All her clothes were solid grey, a simple jumpsuit. The stranger strides to the podium like she is half of the close to 80 years old she must be. The people seem to part for her. Guards and several others begin moving around the stage, and even more official-looking Capitolies rush behind the giant screen behind them. Other guards approach the woman and make her stop in her effort to get onto the stage. Effie, for her part, stammers for a moment.
"I am sorry, ma'am. This Quarter Quell will be between Victors only."
"I am." The woman replies. "I am Lucy Gray Baird. I won the 10th Hunger Games, and I volunteer for this girl."
The men holding her must either be stunned into uselessness or fear no threat from the elderly tribute as she climbs onto the stage with little trouble. The murmuring continues; however, Katniss can do nothing but look around. Peeta's eyes lock with hers, sharing the confusion between them. Most of them knew that District 12 at some point before Haymitch had won a Hunger Games, but no one could really say which or whom it was. The citizens have yet to calm before several people who disappeared behind the stage return. One of them, who looks sickly pale with nerves, comes to whisper something into Effie's ear.
"As it turns out, this is entirely correct. As a victor of District 12, Lucy Gray Baird will be allowed to volunteer for Miss. Katniss Everdeen."
There is a strange silence, almost like people digesting the information simultaneously. Then, an untited applause makes the older woman preen as Effie holds up her hand. Katniss allows the moment to try and breathe normally. Because even as soon as she realizes she won't be going in, the looming reality that Peeta still could be descends like a shadow over her and steals any shred of relief.
And like that, she woke up to an even worse nightmare.
Effie tries to calm everyone when they begin to settle themselves. Once she does, she becomes somber again, looking at the second bowl. She seems to be composed to anyone else, but Katniss can note the shaking in her voice.
"Now, for the boys." She utters and swirls the two pieces of paper in the second bowl around before picking a slip. She can't disguise the pain when she says the name, though. "Haymitch Abernathy."
On her other side, Katniss watches Haymitch take steps to the podium. Every bit of her wordlessly screamed at Peeta, telling him not to open his mouth or say anything. Somehow, she hoped he could hear her and would let Haymitch keep his promise to both of them. They would do anything in their power to save their mentor, but if Peeta goes in, she doesn't know if she could breathe, not with her ability to be in the arena with him taken.
Instead, she watches Peeta grab the arm of Haymitch's shirt. A look goes between them, and in the end, the older man shakes his head and steps toward the podium. Peeta doesn't say anything, and Katniss sucks in air she didn't know she was deprived of.
Effie barely holds it together, raising his hand, and things become even more chaotic after that. As it turns out, there will be no time to allow for goodbyes after the reaping. Just after Lucy takes Haymitch's hand to shake it, everyone on stage, plus her and Peeta, are surrounded by Peacekeepers and directed to the train. Lucy walks first of the pack, as proudly as an elderly woman could. Haymitch is saying something quietly to Effie. It looks like he may even be trying to calm her.
Peeta takes her hand and makes eye contact. "You're trembling, Katniss."
"We're not-"
"It doesn't look like it."
"How?"
"I don't know. But I think we're gonna get answers sooner rather than later." He whispers as they both board the train.
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gentleraccoon · 7 months
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hi i know we're all saying it but bottom table is ot3, i'm losing my mind .
clearly!!! sean is in love with marion and jean, but thinks he's a worthless piece of shit and doesn't deserve either of them, so he's trying to make sure they're both around to take care of each other before he fuckin dies. how long have they all been in love with each other is my newest brain worm because . because !! they just established that they've known each other since childhood.
jean and marion probably(?) were first, but i think. sean fell in love with the boy who always tagged along. he was the youngest brother but marion needed to be cared for too...!!!! and marion's connection to jean means that he introduced sean and jinnah.., "sean this is my crush, jinnah meet sean my other crush"
and maybe by the time they were all realizing how they felt, sean's brothers signed up for the war, and sean needed to go to look after his big brothers, and marion went to look after sean, and jinnah used her schooling to become a surgeon to take care of them all.
oooh my god it's giving "testament of youth" to be fucking honest
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majorproblems77 · 2 months
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I can't see anywhere where this has been shared with anyone else? But I read too much unresolved angst and just wanted Sky to get Dad hugs from Time.
“Please, Sir. I’ll keep up, or you can leave me behind. Just go back to your boys.” Sky yanked himself out of Time’s grip and wrapped his arms around himself.  “Please.” His voice threatened to break and he looked away. Why wouldn’t the eldest just go?
“Sky..." Time caught his arm. No, not in front of Time. Not when he was holding on to everything by a thread. “I am with one of my boys. What’s wrong?” And the kindness in Time’s voice was the final straw. 
“I haven’t slept more than a half watch in two weeks.” He admitted. “I’m exhausted and Surface Sick but--” here he stopped as his voice choked. “I just need…” Another sob he fought to stifle. He needed the nightmares to let him sleep. He needed his head and body to quit aching. He was already a burden to the other heroes. He pushed through this on his adventure. He’d do it again...
There was a clatter as a golden gauntlet dropped to the ground and a cool wrist was lightly pressed against his forehead, then the eldest hero carefully pulled him into a hug and it was at that point that Sky fully lost his grip on everything and sobbed into Time’s chest. 
--
Sky collapsed into him with a sob and Time caught the Chosen Hero and fought to contain panic. The boy had a fever. He wasn’t sure what Surface Sick meant other than Sky seemed familiar with it, some sort of illness obviously. Then there was their current situation. They’d hoped to reach a town soon. It would be better to stock up on supplies and catch news of their quarry but could they even move if Sky was very bad off? He knew the Chosen would feel awful about disrupting the group’s travel but he couldn’t imagine forcing pace when the boy was sick and clearly exhausted. All this was currently supposed to be pushed to a back burner as the urgent issue was a teenager breaking down with a simple hug. 
“It’ll be ok, Sky.” He assured, shifting to take more of the Chosen’s weight. 
UHH AJ
LIKE OH MY GOD THE ANGST NKJFNSFLKJSANF;JEN
BUT ALSO THEM
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I LOVE THEM I LOVE THIS IM GONNA DIE /pos
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queerbuckleys · 1 year
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~a.s.
confessions//fate for @poemsbybuddie
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aj-artjunkyard · 23 days
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The 6th chapter of Life Goes On is up now on AO3!!
Life Goes On Chapter 6: The Not-Quite Resolution
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Rex takes on a skilled bounty hunter for the prize of the Skywalkers' safety. But things don't add up… and something feels very familiar.
below the cut is slight spoiler art for this chapter!
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aj-lenoire · 8 months
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got my first ao3 comment that made me tear up a few days ago
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babygirlfahey · 10 months
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35 jazz
sorry this one is so stupid
“Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you,” Jesper says, turning to look at Kaz. There’s something in his eyes, something like excitement, like a thrill that Kaz doesn’t get. 
“You’re saying this now?” he asks, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. Jesper shrugs at him. 
“Never found a better time.” 
“There were plenty-” Kaz starts but gets cut off by Jesper placing his +4 uno card on the table. Beside him, Inej gasps. 
“Really?” she laughs and Kaz watches Jesper turn to wink at her. 
“You’re an asshole,” Kaz tells him and leans forward to draw the extra cards from the deck. Jesper’s still smiling. “And we’re talking about this after the game,” he adds.
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alcego · 1 year
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not sure if i’ll see this one through, but i’m fascinated by how neil would have turned out if mary hadn’t run with him
*this is not about neil gaiman for the love of fucking christ*
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ja3yun · 2 months
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Push My Buttons | L.HS
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bodyguard!heeseung x rich girl!reader warnings: enemies to ???, angst, smut (mdni), car sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, mentions of spit, possessive!hee, some violence, not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 7.5k synopsis: lee heeseung has been hired as your personal security by your father. you and him don't see eye to eye, so when tensions rise at your best friends party, you both know how to push each others buttons. a/n: hi! this is a thank you for 1k! i still don't believe it if i'm honest because i don't think i deserve it but regardless, thank you all so much if you follow me! this is a little idea i had sitting on my laptop that i've decided to complete for this occasion so enjoy!
_____
Browsing through the racks of the Prada store, you can't help but feel acutely aware of the imposing presence of your hired security, stationed just two feet away.
"Do you have to stick to me like glue all the time?" you mutter, not bothering to meet his gaze.
“It’s my job, Y/N. You’d know what that was if you weren’t such a spoiled brat,” he spits back, his eyes rolling in exasperation.
Lee Heeseung was appointed by your father to ensure your safety during his frequent business trips. Unfortunately, your father's demanding role as CFO of a tech company keeps him away for extended periods. He doesn't trust you to fend for yourself, fearing that others might exploit you to reach him. Given your father's controversial reputation stemming from questionable business dealings, Heeseung's imposing presence is a constant fixture in your life.
Your bodyguard would be more tolerable if he weren't so insistent on being by your side every second. It's tiresome, really, how he clings to you like a shadow, never granting you a moment of solitude. If you go to the bathroom, he is right outside the door and if you dare try and sneak out the window - which you have tried numerous times - he is chasing you down the street, sweeping you off your feet and taking you home.
You had hoped that being only a couple of years older, he might adopt a more relaxed approach, letting you live your life a little, but you were wrong. Since the first day he turned up, he’s been nothing but a hoover, sucking the fun and freedom from your life all to keep you safe.
Sure, he probably knows deep down that he's a tad overbearing, but hey, he's clinging to this gig like a lifeline. Compared to his last job of being a bouncer at some dingy club, knocking back people with fake IDs and kicking out drunk people, your dad's cushy paycheck is like hitting the jackpot.
To Heeseung, you’re just some rich kid who has more money than sense, squandering it on everything and anything you deem a necessity at the time, only to then throw them away or forget about them. Considering he struggled to pay his rent before this job, he hates your whimsy ways with money. 
It's like you live in your own little bubble, completely disconnected from the real world. There are people out there starving and you’re buying thousands of pounds worth of clothes that you could easily get from a bargain bin for a fiver. 
Finally, you spare him a glance, “Just stand over there, okay? You really don’t have to be here and mess up my whole vibe,” you flail your arms around hoping the gestures will add some exclamation to your statement.
With a resigned sigh, he acquiesces, nodding, "In my line of sight at all times, got it?" He scans the area once more, on high alert for anything out of place, before reluctantly giving you some breathing room.
Heeseung blends in, looking through the obscenely expensive trousers which he is convinced he has seen the exact same jeans in thrift stores, just without the brand label. It’s a reminder of the contrast between you both; your lavish ways are still an alien concept to him.
He’s been in this role for 3 months and he won’t get over it, how different you both are. Your beliefs and traits are so starkly dissimilar that not once have you ever seen eye to eye. He doesn’t hate you, but he’s close to it. You always treat him with little to no respect and considering he’s only looking out for you per your daddy’s request, he would like to think you would be a little more grateful. 
Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted by a lone figure approaching you, a slick smile playing on his lips. Heeseung’s jaw tightens as he analyses the scene in front of him, trying to speculate what the guy wanted, although Heeseung already knows his intentions.
You’re too busy trying to decide whether beige or cream looks better on you as you hold out two vest tops to notice the incoming man.
“I think you should go with that one,” the sudden boom of a voice beside you makes you jump and turn to him, clutching the clothes to your chest as you try to still your thumping heart, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, beautiful.”
Normally, you pay no mind to greasy men like him, but his cinched suit which was clearly tailor-made to fit and his sleek dyed brown hair was enough for you to give him a second glance. You can always spare some time for people who look good.
“Which one?” you ask, holding them back up at arm's length.
“The left one, I think you would look sexy in any of them, to be honest,” he smirks, thinking he’s being so smooth but you’re not really impressed by flattery. You know you look good, you see yourself in the mirror every day. Plus, he’s only trying to oil you up so he can either as you out or try and fuck you. The only one who genuinely gives you truthful advice or says you look good and mean it with no intention is Heeseung.
Your bodyguard is watching like a hawk, face steaming with anger as the guy puts his hand on your waist, holding one of the vest tops to your chest area. He’s already given the guy enough leeway by even letting him speak to you, but now he’s touching you, and Heeseung will be damned if he lets him get away with that.
With measured steps, Heeseung comes up behind you, licking his lips as hugs you from behind, “Baby girl, are you almost done?” he whispers loudly enough that the unwanted man in front of you can hear, “Who is this?” he asks, eyes now pointed forward.
The stranger's confidence falters under Heeseung's intense scrutiny, his eyes widening slightly as he realises the gravity of the situation. Heeseung's demeanour is unmistakably protective, his stance leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. His eyes are so dark that the boy knows that one wrong move will have Heeseung pouncing on him.
“I’m Woobin,” he says almost inaudibly. It’s amazing how quickly he resigned from his cocky attitude as soon as Heeseung made his presence known.
"Do you work here, Woobin?" Heeseung's voice is a low rumble against your ear, his lips trailing a path of kisses down your neck to your shoulder. His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as his hands caress your stomach, his thumbs tracing delicate patterns against the skin beneath your shirt
The butterflies in your tummy are fluttering around as if they’ve been disrupted from their nest by his touch. This is new, he hasn’t done this before, usually opting to just stand between you and potential danger. It's exhilarating and maddening all at once, the line between protection and possessiveness blurring in the heat of the moment.
Heeseung knows that if he simply said he was your security, it wouldn’t deter the man, he had to think on his feet. That and the way he touched you evoked something inside him, protectiveness laced with something else. 
“I don’t work here, I-”
“Then get your hands the fuck off my girl,” Heeseung interrupts Woobin, maintaining eye contact with him as he bites down a little on the nape of your neck, almost like he’s physically marking you as his own in front of a potential suitor.
Your head is in a frenzy, knowing that Heeseung is stepping far beyond his role of protection, yet, you don’t stop him. It would be lying to say that his lips didn’t feel good on your skin, the way his fingers lightly gripped the softness of your stomach gave you fanny flutters like nothing else; as he boldly stakes his claim, you can't help but feel a surge of desire mingling with frustration
But this is also the man that is currently cockblocking you right now, stopping you from getting Woobin’s number and potentially a good fuck that you’re clearly in desperate need of; why else would you be getting turned on by Heeseung right now? This is the man you cannot stand, he is the last person on earth you want to be with. 
Woobin awkwardly laughs and backs away, giving a slight wave to you as he walks out of the store, leaving you both in the thick silence.
As his form disappears into the distance, Heeseung stands by your side, his stare unflinching as he watches the threat go by, proud of himself for handling the situation quickly. Heeseung hasn’t let you go, his hands moving from your tummy to your waist, gripping it softly.
You don’t know what to do, still standing in a haze of shock and confusion, your eyes watching the back of Woobin with intensity. The man behind you didn’t even have to say much before Woobin was running with his tail between his legs.
Honestly, you know Heeseung can be intimidating, but this must have been a new level, even for him. You couldn’t see his eyes, yet, you know they held only room for intimidation.
Heeseung's attitude relaxes somewhat, but his protective stance remains firm. He slowly releases you from his grip, placing one last kiss on your neck for what reason he doesn’t know. 
You take a moment to compose yourself, internally dealing with the mixed feelings of the encounter before pure rage flushes over you, “What the fuck was that?” you seeth, twisting your body to face him.
“What was what?” he asks, unfazed by your angry demeanour. 
Slamming the vests back on the rack, you face him, your shorter stature suddenly being a hindrance as you try to act tough, “You know what! You just cockblocked me for no reason,” you ball your fists to the side of your hips, trying not to cause too much of a scene in the store. 
“Good. God knows what he had, he was a creep,” Heeseung’s face is stoic, not giving much of his emotions away which only serves to piss you off more. 
You wanted him to look a little bit sorry for overstepping, to say he was at least sympathetic towards your frustration. Instead, he just stands there, insulting the boy he didn’t even know.
Letting out a groan, you shut your eyes and unclench your hands, “I can’t ever have any fun with you around,” you try to calmly explain but as the words leave your lips, you begin to question why you’re trying to be civil in the first place. 
This man is the bain of your existence, the reason you haven’t had sex in months, he is utterly infuriating and here he stands in front of you with no remorse for ruining your life.
Heeseung nods, feigning understanding as he leans down to make eye contact with you, his nose almost touching yours, “I don’t know, baby girl, it seems like you were having a blast a second ago,” he says smugly, a half smirk creeping onto his face.
You beam red, embarrassment and anger mixing to create a shade of crimson you didn’t know you could make. He was frustrating, arrogant, irrational, rude, cocky, and overall just irritating. You hate Lee Heeseung.
Winking at you, he nudges his nose with yours before standing back up, his figure back to towering over you, “Pick the one on the right and let’s get a move on,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets and taking one giant step back. 
It was like he was mocking you, giving you your space after infiltrating it as if he wasn’t leaving wet kisses on your neck five minutes ago. 
With a huff, you face the two vests once again, looking between both options, each one having its own backer. You bite your lip and contemplate over them, choosing the one on the right.
_____
As you apply your final coat of mascara, you take one long look in the mirror. You look great, everything about you falls into place perfectly, your hair and makeup only adding to your beauty while the dress you’re wearing hugs you nicely.
Obviously, you don’t tell Heeseung that you had a party tonight, knowing that he would lock you up like some Disney princess in your castle. If there was one thing Heeseung hated more than men coming into your zone, it was parties where tons of men could. 
The last party you went to was just before Heeseung arrived on the scene, the bodyguard now never letting you experience any joy or social gatherings that weren’t accompanied by him or a simple meet-up with friends. ‘There’s too much risk at a party’ he will always tell you.
A knock on your bedroom door almost makes you drop the mascara wand but you catch it before it causes disaster. 
“I’m coming in,” Heeseung’s voice travels through the door before he swings it open. His eyes trail over your body as he assesses the outfit, “A bit dressed up for a night in with me, no?” he tries to pass it off as a lighthearted joke but he knows he’s about to argue with you about your plans.
“Oh, y’know, just thought I would try and make an effort to sit in and watch Louder Milk for the nth time,” you roll your eyes, twisting the mascara shut and turning to face him.
Heeseung grumbles, “Let’s cut to the chase where you tell me where you plan on going and I obviously stop you,” he crosses his arms and tilts his head expectantly.
But you can’t let him win, not this time around. It’s your best friend’s birthday night out and if you miss it, you’ll never be invited to anything again; you can’t miss a 21st birthday party and expect there not to be consequences, especially not in your circle of friends.
You finish getting ready with a sense of purpose, carefully placing your lip oil and hairbrush into your YSL bag. "I've got plans," you announce, nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders.
His brows furrow slightly. "You never mentioned we had plans tonight," he remarks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
"We don't have plans, Heeseung. I do. And you weren’t invited," you retort, your tone tinged with sarcasm as you shoot him a playful smirk.
He raises an eyebrow, trying to decipher your intentions. "A party? A date?" he ventures, scanning your attire and deducing that this isn't just a casual outing.
As you attempt to breeze past him, he swiftly moves to block the doorway with his arm, his muscles tensing as he grips the doorframe. You lock eyes with him, noticing the frustration brewing beneath the surface.
His jaw tightens as you stand your ground, a silent challenge passing between you, "Tell me where you're off to," he demands, his voice taking on a more authoritative tone.
You really need to get fucked because he’s suddenly turning you on, and his body starting to look like a jungle gym. Regardless of the fury and hatred for the boy in front of you, when he got angry, he was a new level of hot; it’s probably the reason you subconsciously push his buttons.
“I am going to Ryujin’s birthday party,” you confess, taking hold of his arm and trying to pry it from the wall, but he’s too strong and it doesn’t work. Even with all your efforts, it doesn’t budge.
Smiling at your feeble attempts to move him, Heeseung cockily leans on one foot, the other tucking behind his leg as he watches you struggle.
Undeterred, you try to slip under his arm, but he effortlessly scoops you up and returns you to your room, closing the door behind you with a practised ease. His years dealing with drunks at his previous job have endowed him with certain skills in handling runaways..
"Don't make this difficult, Y/N," he warns.
"You're the one being difficult! It's my best friend's birthday. Are you seriously telling me I can't go? I'm not in danger, you know," you retort angrily, frustration evident in your voice.
Heeseung understands that you're completely oblivious to the dangers lurking around your family, shielded by your innocent perspective. No one has bothered to inform you about your father's involvement in money laundering and his dealings with shady men. In your eyes, having a bodyguard feels like an unnecessary intrusion into your life rather than a protective measure.
"Listen, let's just imagine I let you go. Where is it?" he asks, a tinge of apprehension in his voice.
"Serenity," you reply, already sensing the tension building.
Heeseung's eyes widen in disbelief, "Serenity? The bar down by the loch? Are you serious?" he exclaims, his concern evident.
It was a losing battle the moment you opened your mouth. The bar isn’t known for its good reputation, it’s sleazy and grim, and despite its calm name, no one who occupies the bar could be considered peaceful.
Ryujin picked it simply because she likes to cosplay as a poor person sometimes, wondering what it would be like to live on the other side of wealth while obnoxiously spending a shit ton of money, completely rendering her ideas pointless.
You don’t agree with it but she is your best friend, the only person that gave you the time of day when you didn’t have a penny to your name all those years ago.
"I am not letting you step foot in that place," Heeseung asserts firmly, drawing a line in the sand.
“She hired out the whole bar, it’s not like anyone can just walk in,” you try to reason back but it doesn’t work as Heeseung’s resolve remains the same.
“You aren’t going, end of discussion. The whole neighbourhood is trouble and your friend is fucking stupid for this,” he scratches his jaw as the worst-case scenarios pop into his head. He might not like you but he really can’t stand some of the thoughts popping into his head, the urge to protect you growing stronger by the second.
The loch is a small part of town, mostly made up of deadbeats and criminals. Word spreads fast around there and there is a high chance the scums of the area know a bunch of snooty rich kids are going to be there for the picking.
You need to go, you can’t cancel any more plans so you need to think of something quick, “You can come with me,” you suggest, stepping closer to him. Would it be overbearing and annoying to have him there? Yes but at least you would be there. And it might actually be good if he was, after all, he is good at his job; you feel safe around him and the more he’s warning you away from Serenity and the loch, the more you’re starting to want his protection.
“I thought I wasn’t invited?” He raises his eyebrows sceptically.
Placing your hands on his chest, you trail them up to his shoulders, a pout forming on your lips. "Well, I'm inviting you now. Please, Heeseungie?" you implore, employing your best puppy-dog eyes and fluttering lashes in an attempt to sway him.
Typically, your pleading face doesn't work on him, but the combination of your hands massaging his tense shoulders and the endearing nickname starts to chip away at him.
"Fine. We can go for an hour or so, and then I'm taking you straight back home, understand?" he relents, already second-guessing his decision.
You squeal with joy, wrapping your arms around his neck and jumping up and down. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Finally, you've managed to reason with him.
Pushing you away gently, he clears his throat. "Be at the car in 10 minutes before I change my mind."
This is going to end disastrously.
_____
"Remember—"
"In your line of sight at all times," you finish, a hint of exasperation in your voice as you recite Heeseung's usual mantra.
Heeseung unbuckles his seatbelt with a grunt, his irritation clear as he mutters curses under his breath. He can't believe he's ended up in this mess, much less mocked by you. He is well aware that this is a recipe for disaster especially as he examines the area and notices gritty individuals prowling around the loch's borders, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
Heeseung is confident in his ability to handle himself; it's your safety that concerns him the most as he observes a suspicious figure crossing in front of your car.
You waste no time darting out of the car and hurrying to the club's entrance, leaving Heeseung trailing behind, a gust of wind in your wake.
"This fucking girl," he grumbles to himself as he parks the car and follows after you. He sees through your tactic—trying to get inside before him so he'll be left waiting outside while you venture off on your own. But he's not falling for it today.
He catches up to you just as you're about to give your name to the bouncer, his arm instinctively settling around your waist. The bouncer eyes Heeseung with a sceptical gaze, taking note of his attire and demeanour, which hardly scream 'rich kid bellend.'
As Heeseung squeezes your side, you shoot him a playful smirk over your shoulder. "Oh, this is my boyfriend. He's just trying to get into character for the place—dirty-chic and all that," you quip sarcastically, gesturing between him and the bouncer.
The bouncer chuckles at your comment, nodding in amusement. "You've done a good job. I almost mistook you for one of those creeps by the water," he jests, stepping aside to let you both in.
Heeseung doesn't react to your teasing or the bouncer's remarks. He's grown accustomed to such comments after spending the past few months with you and your friends. From being called shabby to poor, to filthy to crude, he's heard it all. Sometimes you apologise for your friend's words, but he knows the damage is already done.
It’s times like that that he has some faith in you, that you aren’t all diamonds and gold, that you do have a heart underneath it all.
Sticking close to you, you both end up at the bar ordering a gin and tonic for you and a water for himself. He knows everything about you by now, the constant watchful eye on you has got him to learn your favourite everything, so he finds himself ordering for you more times than not. That is, when you let him be actively seen with you.
"Can you vanish over there while I find Ryujin?" you ask, already scanning the room for the birthday girl.
Nodding, Heeseung points towards a nearby wall. "I'll be over there. If anything happens, remember to stay where I can see you. Don't run off; I will find you. And if you're going to the bathroom, come and get me," he advises, his tone firm as he leans down to emphasize the importance of his instructions.
"Yeah, sure," you reply casually, already making your way over to your friends at the other end of the bar, their excited screams and squeals guiding your path.
True to his word, Heeseung gives you space but remains vigilant, never taking his eyes off you. He's pleasantly surprised when three hours pass, and you're only on your second drink. Normally, he's had to carry you out of brunch with your university friends, and that's not even bottomless. Part of him thinks you’re remaining sober for your own vigilance, which makes him happy that you aren’t so reckless to get drunk in an unfamiliar setting around a lot of people you don’t know.
As the night progresses, Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you from his position against the wall. He observes the way you interact with your friends, the genuine joy evident in your laughter and the twinkle in your eyes. Seeing you light up like this is a rarity, but it warms something inside him to witness you truly enjoying yourself.
Despite his reservations and occasional frustrations, Heeseung takes his role of keeping you safe very seriously. The thought of anything happening to you weighs heavily on his mind, not just because of the potential consequences from your father, but because he has come to genuinely care about your well-being. It's a realisation that surprises even him, how much he's come to feel responsible for you beyond just fulfilling his duties as a bodyguard.
Day by day, Heeseung finds himself spending more time in your presence. Even when he should be stationed at the front door, he often finds himself drawn to your side, whether it's watching TV shows together or cooking dinner. Sure, these moments are often punctuated by arguments over his choice of shows or the random spices he adds to your meals, but they keep things interesting, injecting a sense of spontaneity into his otherwise regimented routine.
And truth be told, he finds a strange satisfaction in winding you up, relishing the sight of the vein in your forehead protruding whenever you're exasperated with him. Despite the occasional clashes, there's an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, a dynamic that keeps him on his toes and reminds him that guarding you isn't just a job - it's become a massive part of his life.
Recently, he has become extra protective over you, the incident at the Prada store being a prime example. Men like Woobin are not the ones he should be protecting you from, but he can’t help it, you’re too precious to be led off by the likes of him.
Shaking his head, he disregards his last thought. You’re not precious, you’re a princess, a snooty diva with an attitude problem.
This is what he has to tell himself every day.
He watches you go up to the bar and sit on the stool as you order another drink, but his attention shifts to a familiar face in the crowd. Woobin - and he is walking straight for you. Like he hasn’t dealt with him enough today, it was almost as if thinking about him that manifested him straight into your lap.
As Woobin twists the stool you're sitting on to face him, Heeseung's grip on the empty cup tightens, his knuckles turning white with the effort to maintain his composure. He knows he can't just stride over there like he did at the store; he crossed a line then, kissing your neck was too far, and biting down on you to mark you was too far. But the possessive feeling that had simmered earlier resurfaces as he watches Woobin casually tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.
His mind races with a mantra, a desperate attempt to keep his emotions in check. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here.
But as he watches Woobin's hand graze your leg, Heeseung's resolve crumbles.
"Fuck this," he mutters under his breath, his anger boiling over as he pushes himself off the wall and throws his cup away. Without a second thought, he makes a beeline for you, determined to put an end to this unwanted intrusion.
You suddenly feel Heeseung's chest press against your back, his presence feels overpowering, his aura dark and intense. You glance at Woobin and notice the fear flicker back into his eyes, just like before, as Heeseung speaks with a menacing tone, "Have you got a death wish or something, mate?" His question hangs in the air, a clear warning.
Woobin takes a step back, but despite the quiver in his pupils, he refuses to back down. "She obviously isn't satisfied with you," he retorts, attempting to sound tough. "She hasn't even tried to bat me off."
You scrunch your face in disbelief at Woobin's audacity. His attempt to turn the situation on you is off-putting, and any attraction you may have felt towards him suddenly dissipates.
Heeseung's gaze shifts down to you, his eyes hooded as he leans in close. "Is that true, baby girl? Do I not satisfy you?" His words send a shiver down your spine, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you can form a response, he leans even closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispers in your ear, "You better agree with me, or else I'll punch his lights out, right here, right now."
His threat hangs in the air, leaving you feeling torn between conflicting emotions. As you struggle to find the right words, Heeseung's lips graze the skin of your earlobe, sending a jolt of sensation through you. You're unsure whether he's doing this to turn your mind to mush so you can do nothing but agree with him or assert his dominance over Woobin, who watches with a flushed neck, clearly intimidated by Heeseung's display of possessiveness.
Nodding slowly, you side-eye Heeseung, “Y-you do,” you say quietly but as he bites down on your ear and you yelp, you speak up a bit more confidently, “You do satisfy me.”
“Good girl,” he whispers, placing one final kiss on your ear, “You heard her, so get the fuck away from her, or I will throw your body in the loch and no one will even care to look for you,” he challenges Woobin, threatening him like some gangster.
As Woobin backs up and mutters ‘This is not fucking worth it’, Heeseung smiles triumphantly, knowing he’s scared him off for good. Heeseung fixes your hair, gathering it all to sit nicely at the back, running his fingers through it as he silently warns any other men in the club that you’re no one but his.
You hate to admit it, but it turns you on a little.
But your responsible head twists back on and you understand what Heeseung has done again, “Heeseung,” you slap his chest and push him away, “Stop fucking babying me!” Standing up from the stool, you weave through the people at the club in search of the exit, Heeseung’s antics finally pushing you too far. 
"I am doing my job, Y/N," he shouts over the chatter and music, his voice barely audible amidst the din of the club.
"No, you aren't. That is not your job," you retort, your voice rising above the noise. "Pretending to be my boyfriend and scaring away potential fucks is not part of the remit!"
Your words hang in the air, heavy with frustration and disappointment. You push him away one more time, creating some distance between you before storming out of the club.
Fuming with anger and adrenaline, you make your way through the car park, your mind racing with conflicting emotions. Part of you resents Heeseung for his overbearing behaviour, but another part can't deny the thrill you felt with his protective display. It's infuriating to admit, but the feeling of his possessiveness is sending shivers straight down south, You hate that you're even thinking like this.
His touch on your ear and neck lingers in your mind, igniting a whirlwind of desire and confusion. You're not thinking straight anymore, and if Heeseung catches up to you, you're not sure how you'll react - whether it'll be pure anger or pure lust.
Either way, you need to get this steam out. 
“Y/N! Get back here right now!” he shouts, pushing past the men who are ogling your figure. 
As you hear his voice, something takes over you. You pull the first guy you see into a kiss, holding onto this jacket as your mouth moves against his.
Heeseung sees red, blood red as he watches you kiss the stranger. It’s reckless behaviour, your lips moving roughly against a guy probably twice your age but, of course, the guy doesn’t mind. He wraps his arms around you to bring you in closer. That gesture shakes Heeseung from his shock coma, his emotions fueling him.
But Heeseung can't stand idly by any longer. With a guttural growl, he yanks the man away from you, his anger propelling him into action. He delivers a punishing punch to the man's face, the force of it sending him crashing to the ground, sprawled across the gravel of the car park.
Heeseung doesn't stop there. He delivers a few more swift kicks to the man's prone form before turning his attention to you. Grabbing your arm with bruised hands, he hauls you towards the car, his grip tight and unforgiving.
"You're so fucking irresponsible," he seethes, his voice dripping with venom as he struggles to contain the storm of emotions raging inside him. The veins in his neck bulge with the intensity of his anger, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fire.
“Sorry if I want to have some fun,” you argue back, trying your hardest to release yourself from his firm hold.
As you both approach your car, he opens the door and shoves you in, “And kissing and fucking random guys is fun?” he slams the door behind you once he knows all your limbs are inside the vehicle.
Striding over to the driver's seat, he gets in quickly, locking the doors so you can’t make a quick escape. You don’t even attempt to try and flee, already knowing you’re only going to end up in a game of cat and mouse all night, and in this weather with your dress isn’t fun. 
“I’m 20 years old, nearly 21, I can fuck if I want to,” you shout back, slamming your hand on the backrest to hammer home your point. You are old enough and wise enough to make your own decisions, Heeseung is only there to make sure you don’t end up getting kidnapped or whatever it is your dad thinks will happen to you.
"It's not wanting to fuck that is my problem, it's who you want to fuck," he growls, his voice tinged with bitterness.
You want to slap him, angry that he doesn’t seem to get it, “I don’t get to fuck anyone thanks to you,” you retort back with venom laced in your voice.
His entire body turns to face you, his gaze piercing through you as he asks, "You want to get fucked?"
“Yes! Obviously!”
Heeseung lunges towards you, pressing his lips to yours in a matter of seconds to your answer. At first, you’re confused at what is happening, the unfamiliar feeling of his mouth melting into yours causes your head to thump.
But as he moves you to lay back, flicking the seat to recline all the way back, you find yourself chasing his body with yours, your lips like magnets as they draw themselves back to his. He tastes sweet, not like how you expected, you were presuming it’s the flavour of his vape he swears he doesn’t use.
Shuffling your way up the seat, you spread your legs so he can situate himself neatly in between you, knees resting against the edge of the seat for support, his hands roaming all over your body and his kisses never faltering. 
He was hungry for you, those tiny tastes of your neck served as appetisers before the main meal which was your mouth and tongue. Roughly, he brings one of his palms to cover your throat as squeezes, the consequential parting of your lips as you gasp gives him access to lick into your mouth. The grip on your throat is heavenly, just tight enough to make your brain go fuzzy but not to the point you think you’re in danger.
With a quick roll of his hips, you feel the outline of his cock being pushed onto your core, even through jeans he’s prominent, only building up your anticipation more. He does this a few times, each time the rough edges of his zipper rub your barely covered clit, eliciting a moan from you.
Heeseung's smirk widens at your response, his gaze flickering with desire as he watches the desperation in your eyes. Without hesitation, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he repeats his question, this time with less anger and more longing. "You want to get fucked?"
Your breath catches in your throat at his words, your desire for him burning hotter than ever before. "Yes, please, Heeseung," you whimper, using your hands to hold his hips against yours as you rut yourself desperately against him, humping his length through his jeans. 
Heeseung almost feels bad for you, clearly, he underestimated how much you needed to seek release. No wonder you were willing to entertain someone like Woobin. He had to make this worth the frustration he has been causing you.
The pressure of Heeseung's hand around your throat tightens, eliciting a gasp from your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, "You sure you want to fuck a guy like me?" he hisses, his voice tinged with both agitation and desire, the intensity of his gaze burning into yours.
Despite the lack of air, you manage to choke out your response, your voice laced with desperation, "Yes, Heeseung, I need you."
A smug smirk plays across Heeseung's lips at your admission, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "Oh, I know you need me, Sweetheart," he replies, his tone dripping with confidence. "You're staining my jeans as we speak." His words send a shiver down your spine, a potent mixture of arousal and frustration coursing through you.
But then his question cuts through the haze of desire, forcing you to confront the reality of the situation, "I'm asking if you want to go back to little Woobin now?" he taunts, knowing full well the answer already. He just wants to hear you say it.
With a shake of your head, you release your hold on his hips and begin to unbutton his jeans, determination blazing in your eyes. "No," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "No, I only want you."
“Thought so,” he kisses you again before releasing your throat, focusing his hand's attention on ridding you of your pants while you work to get his trousers out of the way. He tugs your underwear down, tossing them to his side of the car before lining himself up at your hole.
Wrapping your legs around his hips, you try to push him to slip into you, but he keeps his hips rigid, only making you look more desperate for him. He taps your clit with the head of his cock, each time it slaps down, he echoes it with a tut.
“You don’t even know if I’ll fit,” his voice whispering in your ear as he licks the shell of it, “All those preppy rich boy cocks aren’t anything like mine,” he takes your wrist in his hand and guides you to feel his length as it sits neatly in your folds, “See?”
Whining, you pout, knowing he’s just teasing you for badness, “I promise I can handle it,” you say lowly, pumping his cock between your cunt and hand. The motion makes Heeseung hiss in pleasure, the feeling of his cock trapped only adding to his anticipation of being inside you.
He moves in for a chaste kiss on your lips, his touch soft despite the intense need between you, "I'll go slow," he tells you, his words a balm in the midst of the intense moment. Even in the heat of passion, Heeseung is driven by his instinct to protect you.
With one swift movement, he slides into your heat slowly, letting you stretch around him. Surprisingly to both of you, your pussy is accommodating him perfectly, the stretch a little painful but not unbearable. He shallowly moves his hips back and forth, watching his cock disappear into you further and further each time until he’s bottoming out and tapping your cervix lightly.
Heeseung isn't wrong when he tells you that no other cock you've had can compare to his. Every curve and ridge of his dick seems perfectly designed to hit every sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. It's an otherworldly sensation, the way he gains traction with each movement, his confidence growing as he senses your comfort and willingness to take more.
"You're so tight, baby girl," he murmurs between kisses.
Lost in the throes of passion, you cling to Heeseung, your bodies moving in perfect synchronisation as you lose yourself in the sensation of him filling you completely. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.
Heeseung's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that matches your own. His touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they trace the contours of your skin. The pads of his fingers roughly grab your tit that’s managed to escape your dress, twisting your nipple between his finger and thumb.
Your hands are in a similar position, running along his toned stomach under his shirt, trying to commit it to memory, just in case you never get to do this again. You wish this was happening with zero clothes in the way but the desperation between you both got in the way. 
As the intensity of your desire builds, Heeseung's movements become more urgent, his thrusts growing deeper and more powerful with each passing moment. You can feel the tension coiling within you, the promise of release looming on the horizon like a distant storm.
“You’re squeezing me so tight, Y/N. I won’t last much longer,” he admits, knowing that he’s close to the edge himself.
“Need it, I need you to cum,” you moan loudly, your hand leaving his skin to find your clit, rubbing it vigorously as you try and speed along your orgasm.
Your words drive Heeseung to pound into you faster, willing both of you to come undone together. The car shakes as you both speed up your movements, your hips trying to match his rhythm to create a deeper impact with each buck of his hips.
With a final, desperate thrust, Heeseung drives you both over the edge, sending you spiralling into ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling under him, the ropes of his cum coating your heat. 
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his cock swell and throb inside of you, “Cum with me, Y/N. Please.”
Circling your arms around his shoulders, you hug him close to you as his body shivers, still reeling from the aftermath of his climax. You lay like that for a few minutes, processing everything that just transpired between you both.
“Are you okay?” he asks, holding himself up to face you, one hand wiping your sweaty bangs from your forehead.
Nodding, you shut your eyes, massaging his shoulders lightly as you let bliss take over you, “I feel great,” you smile.
Heeseung grabs your pants from the driver seat and bundles them up, using them as a makeshift cloth to clean you up, spitting on them before running them along your swollen cunt, “We can’t do this ever again,” he says quietly, his breathing starting to regulate again.
“What do you mean?” you lean on your elbows, looking up at him with confusion, “Was it not okay?”
Of course, it was okay, Heeseung thinks your pussy might be the best he’s ever had, but it’s not logical to try and keep this fantasy alive. You were too different, this encounter was fueled by anger and rage between you both, hardly the start of a picture-perfect relationship.
He discards your underwear and pulls his own bottoms up, tucking his softening cock into his boxers and jeans, “It was great, but I’m supposed to protect you, not fuck you,” he says, shuffling back into his seat, starting the car.
“We’ll use protection next time,” you shrug, fixing your seat to sit upright, “It’s no big deal.”
Heeseung sighs, his frustration evident as he starts the car and pulls out onto the road. "You know that's not what I mean, Y/N," he replies, his voice tinged with resignation.
The rest of the drive home is filled with silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Heeseung's thoughts swirl with the fear of losing his job, the guilt of failing to protect you, and the sudden need to be inside you all the time.
“We forget about this, okay?” he asks, eyes flickering to you.
You nod in agreement, but a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips, betraying your true thoughts. Deep down, you know that you won’t forget about it, and this will certainly not be the last time you find yourself fucking Lee Heeseung - You'll make sure of it.
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I read this amazing idea and this sorta wrote itself. I hope it's everything you were hoping for @piratefishmama
"ugh. fuck," Steve groaned into his pillow. He'd never felt worse.
What the hell happened last night?
It was dark, but there was daylight trying to peek through the curtains, so it must be morning.
Wait. Curtains?
Steve didn't own curtains, and neither did Robin.
Steve tried to focus his alcohol-soaked brain on his surroundings; he was in a hotel room, that much was obvious, and there was a napkin sitting under last night's wine glass on the bedside table, but as he reached over to rescue it, Steve caught a glimpse of a ring on his finger. Weird. Steve didn't often wear jewellery, rarely ever wore rings but... ah! Vegas!
Of course! Their post-firing Vegas trip. Steve turned his head on the pillow and automatically regretted it.
"ugh. robin," Steve murmured, "Robin," he tried a bit louder. She was still ignoring him, curled up in all the blankets, sleeping peacefully when Steve was suffering. Such a blanket hog, Steve thought churlishly. "ROBIN! Ow, fuck!" Steve hid his face back in his pillow, shouting was not the way to go.
"stop yelling," the body in the blankets grouched. Because holy fuck that most definitely was not Robin! "Who the fuck is Robin?" the guy groaned, finally deigning to stick his head out of the covers.
Steve lifted his head and blinked owlishly. That was a face he most definitely did not know. Jesus Christ! Steve launched himself upright, only just realising that he was fucking starkers in bed with a complete stranger. "Who the fuck are you?"
The guy had the nerve to smirk as Steve tried and failed to cover his modesty, but at least had the decency to pretend to be removing the sleep from his eyes in order to give him a modicum of privacy.
"Eddie," he introduced with a half-wave, that stupid grin still gracing his lovely features, "wha' 'bout you, Big Boy?" Eddie asked, cheekily waggling his eyebrows at Steve.
Steve could feel the blush burning his cheeks, he didn’t have control of enough of his faculties to deal with this, going home and pretending this never happened seemed like a great idea right about now. Steve slid himself to the edge of the bed, placing his head delicately in his hands, gearing himself up to get moving, preferably without seeing the contents of his stomach. “Steve,” he muttered.
He could hear movement from the other side of the bed, the sheets moving sounding like Eddie was rolling a dumper truck through the room, followed by a blissful silence that was only broken by a quiet "err, Steve?"
"yeah?" he whispered, not that it really did anything to ease the throbbing in his skull.
Eddie moved again and when Steve looked over, Eddie had leaned across the bed onto the pillow Steve had vacated, trying to get a better look at his hunched form, worrying his lip. Odd, he doesn't seem the type. "You aren't- are you? Wearing a ring?"
Huh? Steve's eyebrows scrunched together, he's not exactly used to waking up in bed with a stranger, but minor lifestyle choices aren't one of Steve's main concerns right now. "Yeah. Why? Men can't wear jewellery?" Steve sniped.
Eddie rolled his eyes so hard he was in danger of losing them, lifting both hands to show Steve the many rings he wore on his fingers. "No. Don't be dense!" Eddie reproached, waited a moment and sighed deeply at Steve's visible confusion, "Look at the finger it's on."
Shifting his left hand in front of his face, Steve glared at the plain gold band glinting up at him from his ring finger. It took a second but when the realisation finally dawned it knocked all the breath out of him, "oh. shit."
Steve looked over at Eddie wide-eyed to find him nodding in agreement with the sentiment. "Yeah. Oh. Shit." Eddie echoed.
This just didn't make sense! It'd been a long time since Steve had consumed so much alcohol, he probably hadn't been that drunk since high school, yet somehow someone thought he was in a fit state to enter into a legal contract! "I don't even- they can't've let us? We were drunk!"
Eddie just shrugs, doesn't look even nearly upset enough for Steve's liking. Steve glares at him trying to convey how insane this situation is, Eddie just gives him a look that says "it is what it is". Steve continued glaring, an internal monologue of this is insane, why aren't you freaking out? I'm freaking out! We're strangers and now we're married and oh god we're gonna have to get divorced! I'm gonna be divorced! I don't wanna be divorced! which clearly just frustrates him because Eddie just throws his hands in the air and shouts, "We're in Vegas!"
And suddenly all the fight sucks out of Steve, he slumps back over covering his face with his hands, feeling the slide of metal against his cheek and mutters "fuck. we're in vegas."
But he didn't come here alone! Robin! His best friend and platonic soul mate. And oh how Steve adores her because she's smart, she'll know what to do! "I need to find Robin!" Steve decides, jumping up off the bed, and immediately standing perfectly still so the room stops spinning. I just need to get dressed and find Robin, she'll know how to fix this!
Eddie still hasn't moved from his spot, lounging elegantly across the pillows, the sheet draped gracefully over him like some kind of artist's model. He raises a judgemental eyebrow at Steve, "Robin?"
Unhooking his jeans from the lampshade, Steve grins at Eddie, he's not the first person to assume they're an item. "My best friend," Steve clarifies, but Eddie doesn't look convinced, if anything he looks even more pissed off, his face doing that complicated, pissed off, 'I'm assuming I'm being lied to', twist snarl.
Steve looks, really looks, at Eddie. Steve doesn't know much about him, other than the fact that he's incredibly pretty because really eyes that big and beautiful should only be allowed on magazine covers! He's completely covered in tattoos, which is so hot, not to mention those rings! And he's cheeky as fuck and absolutely unafraid to stand up for himself, which is a first for Steve. People who don't know him usually find him a little intimidating, which is insane, but Robin assures him it's a them thing, not a him thing. And although that's barely anything to know about a person, Steve'd already dearly love to know who'd dare to hurt him, he'd just like to chat, honest. "She's a lesbian," he adds, just to really drive his point home.
It seems to surprise Eddie, his eyebrows shoot up before he grins back at Steve, all teeth and sparkling eyes, trying to hide his face in his mane! Because that's really the only way to describe the majesty of his hair. And oh he's blushing, that's adorable. Eddie clears his throat, sitting up a little straighter, "oh. Yeah. I should probably find Chris," he agrees like he's saying what he's thinking out loud, quickly clarifying, "she also likes women."
They're smiling gently at one another when the phone starts to ring, Steve striding back to the bedside to answer it, hearing Robin shout "Steveeeeee!!"
That sets the ringing off in Steve's ears again, ow! "Robin, shh!" Steve chastises.
Robin's uninhibited by Steve's grouchiness, "I just wanted to say... Congratulations!" she singsongs.
"You know about that?!" Steve's utterly bewildered, surely she wouldn't...
"We were there!" she shouts excitably, as though she'd personally been invited to Area 51, instead of witnessing something as stupid as Steve getting married, while too drunk to even remember the name of his husband.
husband! Steve thinks pathetically.
"we?" he asks meekly, hoping beyond hope he hadn't done something ridiculous like invite his mother or his ex.
"Me and Chris!" Robin shouts, in the background he hears another voice woo-hoo and then say something incomprehensible that makes Robin giggle.
Steve sighs, rolls his eyes because of course! And purposefully catching his eye, smiles exasperatedly at Eddie, "they're together," he informs him.
Eddie snorts a laugh and shrugs, "makes sense," he murmurs as though this is all completely normal behaviour. Maybe it is for them, Steve doesn't bloody know.
Turning back to his phone conversation, Steve asks, "Why'd you let me do that, Rob?" It comes out as whiny and pathetic as he feels, forcefully rubbing his forehead to try to ease the tension building there.
Robin barks a laugh, and she's right it is funny, no one's ever been able to stop Steve from doing anything he set his mind to. Doesn't mean he doesn't want someone else to blame for the fact that he doesn't remember his own wedding and that he's going to be divorced before he's thirty!
"You're in LOVE, Stevie! Who am I to stand in the way of love?"
Robin always manages to explain the most bizarre things as though they're completely ordinary, making them sound almost reasonable. It baffles Steve every damn time. Like she just said "You were sick Steve, so I took you to the doctor" instead of "You're in love with someone you met yesterday, so the obvious solution was a drunken wedding"!
Steve sighed, trying not to be annoyed with her, "Bobbie, I met Eddie less than 24 hours ago! What am I, a fucking Disney Princess?" the vitriol soaking his words would've upset most people, but Robin never flinched, even when he was being the world's biggest dick.
He could practically hear her eye roll through the phone, "No Dingus, you're not a Princess!" she sounded almost sympathetic for a second, but she couldn't hold back the bubble of laughter, "You're a King!" she proclaimed, cackling so hard she snorted.
She hadn't let up about "King Steve" since she’d found his yearbook, signed by all his dickhead "friends". She thought high school cliques were ridiculous, thought prom was even worse, and the idea that Steve had been so popular he'd been elected as an imaginary sovereign as part of their fabricated hierarchy had her rolling around the floor laughing for a solid ten minutes.
"Jesus Christ!" Steve muttered pinching the bridge of his nose, nothing was ever as funny as she thought it was when she was drunk, especially not when she was funny-drunk and he wasn't nearly drunk enough.
Robin stopped laughing abruptly and gasped as though she'd forgotten something. "Steve. Stevie. Evievievie! Guess what, I haven't been to bed yet!" she declared proudly. Steve had no idea what time it was, but as far as he knew the last time she'd slept had been on the plane, and that hadn't exactly been for very long.
"Maybe it's time for bed then?" Steve reasoned, trying to hold on to the last of his patience.
"No! Nooo, I'm with a girl," she whispered conspiratorially. oh jesus! Like he didn't know that!
He was far too sober for this Robin, it was fine when she'd do it in a club, wander over and be all "Steve, I've been dancing with a girl!" mainly because he was drunk enough to join in with her level of wonderment (even though he'd just watched her do it). Right now though, with the weight of his life choices on his shoulders, trying to wrangle his best friend was driving him slightly mad.
"I know," he whispered back. He could hear the pings and dings of the casino in the background, but other than her gentle breathing, Robin had gone suddenly eerily quiet.
He was just about to ask if she'd nodded off upright (it wouldn't be the first time) when Robin and Chris whined loudly, "We're bored, Steve!" jesus fuck! He had to move the phone away from his ear, so his skull didn't crack open. The fact that they said it simultaneously being equal parts creepy and adorable.
It was then that Eddie's stomach rumbled noisily, he'd been quiet and still the whole time Steve was on the phone, not even looking in his direction apart from when Steve spoke directly to him. That was until Steve's stomach grumbled in agreement, Eddie glancing up at Steve through his lashes, amusement dancing in his eyes and god when he smiled like that!
When was the last time any of them ate? Robin hadn't shut up about Vegas' newest waffle place (that had basically inspired the whole trip) since she'd heard about it from Gina in accounting. Maybe some food would do them all some good.
"What about some breakfast?" Steve suggested, he still had his eyes locked with Eddie's and found he wasn't just talking to Robin. Eddie nodded coyly, getting off the bed to gather his clothes from wherever they'd been flung.
"Oooh!! That's a great idea! You're so smart, Steve! I love you!" Robin squealed in his ear and Steve yanked his eyes away from Eddie as he sauntered naked around the room, staring purposefully at the napkin on the bedside, absentmindedly playing with the ring on his finger.
"I love you, too. You going for waffles?"
Steve liked to check in, it wasn't that he thought Robin was incapable of taking care of herself. He just worried. The love he felt for his found family had a depth he'd never thought himself capable of, and Steve didn't even know who he'd be without Robin by his side.
But Robin always knew him better than he knew himself, could practically taste the pensive thoughts through the line, "We're going for waffles, Dingus! Don't forget your husband!" she yelled and hung up.
"jesus fucking christ!" he muttered to himself, putting the phone down.
A husband! Steve didn't even have a job, let alone a career, but he somehow now had a husband. And the thing was, Steve couldn't even say he hated the idea. He didn't particularly like the idea of marrying someone he couldn't remember knowing, but he knew he'd always been one to fall too hard, too fast. His fuckbuddies were different, he could separate his emotions from sex under that context but the moment an actual relationship was mentioned suddenly Steve was all-in.
Maybe Eddie was an all-in kinda guy too?
Eddie had seemed flustered at first but he relaxed into it pretty quickly. It was intriguing to meet someone so laidback and spontaneous. Steve and Robin were always pretty happy-go-lucky, jumping from job to job without giving it much thought. But out of everyone they knew, they seemed to be the outliers, it was nice to meet such a free spirit.
Not that Steve had always been this way, of course, it was all Robin's good influence. From as small as he could remember his parents had brought him up to care more about what everyone else thought, than about his own thoughts, wants and opinions and honestly, it had him wound tighter than a springboard for the first twenty years of his life.
It was Robin who'd taught him that it was okay to do what he wanted to do, when he wanted to do it, that what he wanted mattered. It took a while but she got him to get to know himself, the real him, not the guy his parents wanted him to be. Steve kinda hoped he’d be able to get to know Eddie, like really get to know him, beyond just breakfast with their respective best friends.
Speaking of, Steve looked around to find Eddie had left the bathroom door wide open, a clear invitation to join him. Steve faltered for a second because they should probably talk first but honestly, it'd been a long time since Steve had felt as good as he did when Eddie smiled at him and he was kind of sick of denying himself things that felt good.
Fuck it!
As he shuffled towards the bathroom, Steve rescued the rest of his clothes from the floor, his shirt was still tucked inside his jacket, dropped carelessly just inside the room door. A vision flashed in Steve's mind, he and Eddie in the lift, he was shirtless and rutting against Eddie as they frantically made out, watching in the mirror behind him as Eddie licked and nibbled down his neck.
Holy shit! Steve had only ever that horny for someone in public in the relative privacy of a club bathroom stall. Anyone could've joined them in that elevator, hell there might've been someone in there with them, he didn't think there was but he couldn't remember. They were lucky they hadn't been arrested! Anywhere else and they might've been, but luckily Vegas was well known as the City of Sin. Hopefully, the hotel security were just used to it.
There was steam pouring from the bathroom by the time he'd pulled himself from his musings, the mirror above the sink showing nothing but a blurry outline of himself, not that he needed it to know he looked rough. The shower door, like the bathroom one, had purposefully been left wide open, steam billowing out along with Eddie's voice.
Because Eddie was singing, loud and angelic, over the sounds of the shower. It wasn't a song Steve recognised, something about the sun, the moon and a seal, Eddie could've been making it up for all he knew. Not that Steve cared, it was sublime. Pulling him in like a siren song, Steve couldn't help himself, he just kept inching closer.
And as heavenly as Eddie’s voice was, which was truly one of the most exquisite voices Steve had ever heard. It was nothing in comparison to the vision Steve was greeted with as he finally reached the shower. Eddie had his head tipped back, rinsing Steve's expensive shampoo out of his hair, the length of his neck alone had Steve salivating. There was a little tattoo poking out from under his earlobe that was practically begging to be investigated. And a single freckle sitting just to the left of his sternum that he felt the overwhelming urge to lick.
Steve didn't get more than a cursory glance at the rest of him because it was then that Eddie straightened up as though he'd sensed Steve's presence. As he wiped the excess water from his face with his hands, Steve noticed that Eddie had removed all of his rings except the shiny gold band that joined them, almost like he hadn't wanted to take it off.
Another vision came to him, of him sliding that very ring onto Eddie's finger, of him taking Eddie's hand and kissing the still cold metal, glancing up at a grinning, misty-eyed Eddie through his lashes, an overwhelming surge of joy exploding through his chest.
It made Steve giddy and he was suddenly unable to wipe the stupid smile off his face, Eddie beamed back, warm and inviting, little droplets of water catching in his eyelashes from the pressure of the spray hitting his skin as he'd watched Steve remember.
The breath was knocked out of him when he immediately felt the overwhelming need to touch Eddie, to be in his space, to kiss him so thoroughly that neither of them knew where one of them began and the other one ended.
And Eddie must be some kind of mind reader because a truly mischievous look overtook his features as he reached out his ringed hand to Steve's to yank him under the torrent and into his arms, giggling cheekily when he pushed Steve back against the freezing cold shower wall, happily swallowing Steve's shocked gasp.
Part 2
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voidartisan · 7 months
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Rex watched Hunter stare off into space, spinning his vibroblade restlessly between his fingers. He was still reeling from the news, himself. He couldn’t imagine what was going on in Hunter’s head right now.
“They made a mistake,” Wrecker said abruptly. His voice was lower and quieter than Rex had ever heard it.
“What?” Rex said, looking over at the man sitting next to him. He kept his voice quiet.
“The Empire made a mistake,” Wrecker continued matter-of-factly. “When we lost Crosshair and Tech, Hunter was scared, but now…” he laughed, bitter and humorless, “They took Omega.
Now he’s angry.”
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So. Making very good progress on rewriting the last half of As Real As Real Can Be! Meaning...
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gentleraccoon · 7 months
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oooooh aabria talking about 5e and the stories it inherently venerates and how/why the stories like that get told, how those mechanics are used, why ...!!!!
ok ok ok ok I'm So excited, I love the way her brain works I love how her stories function mechanically and in the literary/storytelling way
the people in this campaign specifically are also really good already im VERY interested to see where this goes
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