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#to everyone except these two losers
dad-dumpster · 3 months
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crowely sends azi pics like this just to block him right after
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winepresswrath · 10 months
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When Crowley says he understands what Aziraphale is offering a whole lot better than Aziraphale does Aziraphale loses the plot (the plot is that he loves and trusts Crowley). He's spent so much time being condescended to and belittled and is currently high on approval and sympathy from an authority figure who thinks ingesting things is cool and not disgusting at all! So feeling like Crowley is talking down to him in that moment is doubly a slap in the face because it's Crowley not being on his side (horrible) but it's also Crowley saying that Metatron's validation doesn't count and he's dumb for thinking it should. This is all very sympathetic but also Crowley was right!!! Crowley was right about everything Aziraphale doesn't understand because for all he's suffered for being himself he has never been cast into hell and had to develop a whole new identity about it, and so it really was the actual worst possible time to break out "I forgive you."
Also c'mom buddy I know you weren't there for "I was only asking questions" but that metatron's "always wanted to go his own way... always asking damned fool questions" really Aziraphale??? REALLY????
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plumbogs · 6 months
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hardest part about ts2 fanfiction in my experience is making the whole dead parents thing work because every child and teen premade is just
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portokali · 2 years
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there is. definitely a lot to be said about the merits of having the ability to turn off Shipper Brain Mode and enjoy a story without ever demanding a ship be canon or even shipping any of the characters. however there is something about a hint or a promise of romance in works that aren’t explicitly romantic that makes them somehow more tantalizing and interesting. anyway this post is about james and erin derrygirls where i had 0 expectations of their feelings ever being confirmed and simply entertained the idea of them as a what-if-james-likes-erin-lol on a completely different tab that was left open in my brain but when it Was confirmed in s3 and the way it was left unfulfilled but all the same promised absolutely has done numbers to my brain chemistry like the small and tender crushes of two kids living ordinary lives under extraordinary circumstances. something about that yeah.
#like sometimes i feel a lot of Shipping is all abt for the sake of shipping and so u can project a Whatever romantic ideal#which often has nothing to do w the characters presented on screen (or on page etc ykwim) and more abt fandom building a fanon around t#the ship and making it all abt coffeeshop college aus etc... like its more abt inside consumption and deformation of the original ship#to be sth it wasnt meant to in canon but what the fandom wants it to be. i dont rly like this kind of shipping#BUT when i see two blorbos and their love is real it touches my soul...... blease understand#like im SO HAPPY w how little screentime their romance actually takes up its EXACTLY as much as i needed in a story out of derry girls#any more wouldve been too much cause honestly theyre all just losers who dont pull and the story is abt friendship and coming of age anyway#but also..... the jerin story so so good and important to me fr.#no bad tracks. the way it happens so quietly and you can pick their feelings up by SQUINTING? impeccable#the way HE is whipped for HER (a must in a het relationship) but absolutely sees right through her bs and keeps it real always#the way james absolutely Knows and Sees erin for all of her and still oh god oh shit#disintegrating to my bare essentials im gone#cause erin diary girl erin erin the author erin the writer and james you should write that down derrygirl james my best friend james#the i can wait........ like literally so mature of them to realise theyre not mature enough yet but YET theres potential for sth#that they cant just fuck up w their teen bullshit!!!!!1GOSH. FABULOUS!!!!!!#AND the way everyone's parents mirrored the girls in the flashback episode and now erin and james seem to rather grow to be similar to#erin's parents aka a loving marriage and relationship that endured objectively A Lot and provided shelter n family not only to their kids#but also officially unofficially james too james who never knew his dad james whose ma kinda umm doesnt love him. lets be honest.#like theres n o reason for me to be losting my shit so mcuh over them except there IS.#except i am!#the fact that their ship name is jerin? erin with a j?? an absolute w for j community on top of everything#no bad tracks im telling you#the quiet tender kind of love that short of develops as a bytheway as an aside to the main story#as an of course id have a crush on you. of course it would happen. of course it's not going to be the main story#its not the end of it either its not even the beginning not really#you know im such a fool for you....... but now im feeling it even more......... etc#jerin#derry girls#derry girls spoilers
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fangirl-dot-com · 18 days
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🧡❤️Dating Your Enemy's Sibling
*part of the reverse trope series*
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader Genre: Fluff/Humor/SMAU Summary: How to get under your enemy/rival's skin? Charles answer was to start dating his younger sister. But now, he's glad he found love along the way. He only had to tell Max about the relationship when you won a race. That's won't be any time soon though . . . right?
*in honor of Lando's first win - here's this next installment of Reverse Tropes! I know that Max and Charles really aren't enemies. Maybe I should have done like a Pierre and Esteban thing, but I don't write for them. So here we go and please enjoy!*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. 
Predestined rivals, written in the stars, invisible string, yada-yada-yada. 
Putting it simply, Charles had an apt for pissing Max off and vice-versa. The world thought they would kill each other in karting, especially after the 2012 incident. The population sighed in relief when Max was taken from F3 and put in a Formula 1 car, while Charles took a bit longer. 
And then Charles made it to Formula 1 in 2018. However, he was put in a HAAS, a car that was not really made to play with the other cars in the front of the pack. The earth was saved yet another year. 
Well, until 2019 when Charles suddenly became the “It Boy” for the Prancing Horse. Meaning, that he could finally go back to terrorizing the grid and Max. But with terrorizing the grid came loads of trouble and hatred. 
And more pissing off your rival. 
Charles seethed on the podium as he listened to the Dutch national anthem and watched Max point to the stupid “H” on his race suit. He held in a scoff. At least the Ferrari logo was much better looking than that. 
It wasn’t fair. He had the racing line and Max pushed him off. If his mind wandered, it would go back to a certain kart race back in 2012 where he pulled the same move. But that didn’t count because the race has already finished. Charles would have rather been disqualified instead of having to go through the torture of being up on the podium in second. 
First loser as they call it. 
The Monegasque driver held no happiness in his body as Max started spraying his winner’s champagne. Charles just picked up his bottle and drank it. 
Still wasn’t as sweet as victory champagne would be. 
He deliberately separated himself from Max as they stood for a picture. The visible gap made it much more hilarious for everyone around them. 
When the festivities finished, he hightailed it out of there, just wanting to avoid the Dutchman presence. Charles sighed loudly as he walked back to the garage, definitely not in the mood to talk to anyone. 
“Charlie!
The Monegasque stopped in his tracks, annoyance almost wracking his entire being. Can people just let him wallow in defeat? He straightened his shoulders and turned around, PR smile plastered on his face. However, the very fake smile turned into a real one when he noticed that you were almost jogging to catch up with him. 
Y/n Verstappen. 
You had always been a part of his childhood. Where Max was, you were one step behind him, following him in your small racing overalls. He remembered how little you always seemed compared to your brother. But size didn’t matter on the karting course. 
Most of the time, the two boys found themselves trying to shake you off and others were behind your kart, picking up the dirt that you sent their way. And that’s why Charles put your name down as recommendations for his Prema seat after he won the championship in 2017. Because of him, you were able to graduate to Formula 2 and were on the track to make a debut in Formula 1 in the coming years. 
“Hey Y/n,” Charles said softly, still not in the mood to really talk to anyone. But for you, he’d always make an exception. And he was supposed to fly back with you and Max, something he was still dreading. 
You look at the Monegasque with sympathy. Charles wasn’t able to find any type of pity in your blue eyes (that matched Max’s). 
Your brows furrowed as to talked to him. “What Max did wasn’t the right way to race. But Formula 1 is getting more and more competitive.” 
The man, er boy, wanted to huff. He did not need this conversation from you. He almost turned around, but the next few sentences stopped him from making any motions. 
“Charlie, you’ve always found ways to beat him. If he wants to play like this, then you just have to give him a taste of his medicine, get under his skin. Do what you always do and somehow get around him.” 
He cocked his head, before his eyes lit up. 
Get under his skin.
You watched as Charles’s eyes filled up with some light, making the green in them really shine. You could almost see ideas concocting in his head.
Charles went to say something, but was interrupted by his team principle. He swerved to respond before he turned back to you. There was a glint in his eyes that you really couldn’t put a finger on. 
His took a deep breath before asking, “Do you want to maybe get dinner with me?” 
Your eyes widened. Sure, the Monegasque was very attractive, but those were not the words that you were expecting to come out of his mouth. 
Oh. 
Now you got it. 
Your facial expressions melted a bit, eyes pointed toward the ground as you kicked at it. Your arms crossed as you huffed. 
“Using me for gain over my brother wasn’t what I was meaning Charles. I was thinking more like unfollow him on social media while we’re on the plane or something.” 
The harsh “Ch” that began his name had him wincing. Like your brother, you had a small lisp which normally softened the two consonants to the point where his name sounded like it was supposed to be. And what was “Charles?” You rarely ever called him that, choosing to pick the more boyish nickname. 
Although, your idea about Instagram wasn’t a bad one. 
Charles looked a bit guilty as he scratched the back of his head. He honestly was endeared by you and your determination to never give up. He found you, well, cute. You were still 19, younger than him by a bit more than three years. 
But if you were cute back in 2012 hanging on to Max’s wet overalls after the puddle, and you were cute now trying to console him instead of celebrating your brother’s victory, you would still be cute in the following years. 
He sighed, knowing that he had to leave soon or he was going to get an earful from Sebastian for being late to yet another meeting. The Ferrari driver stepped forward a bit, getting closer to you. He looked down at his helmet before looking back to your eyes. 
“When I win and when I beat your brother, then can I take you out to dinner?” 
You mulled over the question in your head. 
If he beat Max before you went out with him, then that meant that he was actually genuine and wasn’t using it to his gain. You also smirked, knowing that indeed it would piss Max off whenever he found out. Your position as an annoying younger sister would still be intact and possibly stronger. 
You held out your hand, which Charles took in an instant. 
“Deal Leclerc.” 
“Deal Verstappen.” 
When Charles took the top step in Spa, pride filled his chest when he noticed Max’s glare at him. He had beaten the Dutchman at his home race. Albeit, it was a DNF for Max, but a win either way.  He swayed back and forth as his national anthem played and then sang quietly along with the Italian anthem. Deep in his heart, he knew the true weight of the win. 
For Anthoine. 
He knew somewhere he made his French friend proud. Just like Jules. And Just like Papa.
Charles watched down below as you looked like you could hardly keep a smirk off your face. And it was bad too as you stood next to Max, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there below Charles. 
The Monegasque raised his eyebrows when you locked eyes. You just hoped that Max wouldn’t catch on that he was staring right at you. Thankfully, you were right next to a Ferrari manager, so Max could guess that Charles was looking at him. 
When the winner finally got ready, you were waiting outside his garage. 
“Hi,” you whispered, putting your phone away. Charles didn’t verbally respond, but he wrapped his arms around you. You melted in his arms, still smelling a bit of the champagne in his hair. 
He looked down at you. 
“Are you ready for dinner?” 
Your eyes held a playful glint. “I hope you chose a good restaurant Leclerc.” 
He scoffed, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you turned to leave. “Only the best Verstappen.” 
The dinner went really well, but you weren’t expecting it to be a continual thing. 
And then Charles won in Monza the next week, and he once again asked you to dinner. And once again, the Monegasque set expectations higher than you every imagined. You were saddened when Charles wasn’t able to win any more races while your brother seemed to get better and better each race. 
You could only giggle while you watched them still avoid each other in Singapore. 
But, the dinners turned into texting, and texting turned to other dates, and dates turned into dating, and dating turned into a relationship, and the relationship turned into an almost five year commitment that you or Charles weren’t planning to end soon. 
The relationship saw your brother become a world champion in 2021, Charles becoming a world champion in 2022, and you joining the grid as a rookie for McLaren after a disastrous attempt for an Alpine seat.
Charles had been furious and Max had almost found out about the relationship. The two of you were still scared that Max might hold some coldness for the past. But when he called Charles “Charlie,” the special nickname that you had for him, you thought that it might be a good idea to tell him. 
“But mon ange, he will run me off the track if he finds out,” Charles whined into your stomach as you played with his hair before the Miami Grand Prix. 
You rolled your eyes and tugged at the strands. “No he won’t. You have to worry about your teammate doing that to you instead.” 
Another whine left Charles making you giggle. 
“At least you’re starting on the front row. I have to start P5! Oscar has been making fun of me all weekend.” 
The Aussie had been such a God send for you during your rookie season. The elder by a few months had taken you under his wing. The two of you had been so close to a win last year, and with the upgrades this weekend, you were sure that you or him would start on the front row. 
And then you had to be hit during the sprint, which didn’t help the mechanics in the hours before the race quali. That in turn made your car feel weird and P5 was the best you could do. Maybe Charles was secretly transferring his unluckiness into you. 
The Monegasque turned his head to look you in the eyes. You smiled as you leaned down to kiss the top of his head. 
“We’ll tell him when I win a race. How about that?” 
Charles knew that you were just unlucky as he was when it came to winning a race. Last year,  you had been close in Spa, but a rouge rainstorm saw you spinning out on the second to last lap. Austin you had pole, but Max fought you on into turn one, making you go wide. You never saw your brother after the first lap as you fell down the grid. Charles held you each night as you cried. 
The red-clad-driver sat up and held your head in his hands. “You’ll win soon enough. Maybe not this weekend because I don’t have any time to prepare.” 
You laughed and just brought him in to a kiss. There was literally no way you could win this weekend. Beating Max Verstappen with pole from P5 on a track that he had a 100% win rate at? 
Impossible.
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Charles thought he was going to cry as he crossed the line in P3. From you winning or having to tell your bother that he defiled his baby sister, he didn’t know. 
What he did know was that he was going to get out of his car and congratulate you immediately. What were the odds that you won on the anniversary of the stupid inchident, the first time that Charles had ever seen you with Max. 
(And yes, he did remember the anniversary but didn’t want to bring it up.) 
You, however, were frozen in your car. You took some deep breaths as you took the steering wheel off, stood up a bit, bent to put it back on, and straightened, holding your pointer finger up. Your fists clenched as you raised them, automatically hearing the crowds roar when you waved. 
A tug on your sleeve brought you down into Max’s arms. You were a bit disappointed that it wasn’t Charles, but that would be too obvious. 
“YOU DID IT!” Max yelled in your ear, well, your helmet as you hadn’t taken the neon thing off yet. 
You really didn’t want people to see the tear stains on your face. But right now, you’d just stay in the protection of your brother’s arms. When he let go of you, he lifted your visor, twin eyes meeting yours. 
“You did such an amaz-”
“I’m dating Charles.” 
Blink. 
Blink. 
Blink. 
You took the moment of a frozen Max to turn to your team. You looked over your shoulder to see that the Dutchman was still stuck in his place as you got farther and farther away. You grimaced, knowing what was to come if Max and Charles met at any time when you weren’t there. 
An arm around your shoulders brought you out of your head. The light blue caught your eyes, signaling that it was Charles. He patted your shoulders, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. You did feel a bit of pressure move your helmet, so he must have quickly smushed his face into the black swirls. A helmet kiss if you would guess. 
You wanted to turn around to warn him of the imminent danger that was waiting for him in the form of Max Verstappen, but you were led away before you could. 
Your fears immediately went away though when your eyes finally landed on your team. Helmet thrown to the ground, you made the decision to throw yourself at them as well. Your laughs could be heard as your mechanics lifted you higher as everyone seemed to want to congratulate you for their first win since Monza 2021, which you weren’t even on the team then. 
When Charles stepped into the cooldown room, he could feel the awkwardness. It also didn’t help that Max was glaring at him from the corner. Charles was a bit worried. He thought that Max was fine with him now after they had both sort of mended their weird friendship during 2023. 
He turned to you as you walked in, all sweaty. 
Charles still thought you looked very pretty. 
“Eyes off Leclerc.” 
Charles froze in his place and looked between the siblings. He looked at you, then Max, then you, and then Max again. You winced, not looking him in the eyes. Realization flooded his body and he thought for a moment he was going to pass out.  
“Mon Dieu.” 
“We will be talking after this,” Max pointed, drinking from his water bottle, not taking his eyes off Charles. 
When you were called to the little Jeeps, you quickly got into the bright pink Barbie-esque looking one, still buzzing from your win. Even if the two men behind you had put a damper on it. 
Charles’s eyes only fixed on one of the cars, not even seeing the third one behind the second. He climbed right in, eyes closed as he sat down. However, his eyes shot open when the car tilted and a thigh was touching his. He gulped rather loudly, refusing to look to his right. 
This was Vegas all over again. 
Max kept his voice low. “When did it start?” 
“2019. After Austria.” 
“Why?” 
“I wanted to get to know her more.” 
“What was the reason Charles?” 
The Monegasque sighed as he ran his hand over his face. “I was angry at you and wanted to get back at you somehow.” 
He knew he was about to be punched on live television, but he continued hoping for redemption. 
“But, I knew that was wrong. We didn’t even go out until Spa. And then again in Monza. And then it just happened.” 
He turned to look directly at Max, knowing that he only had a few more moments before they had to go out onto the podium. 
“Max I love your sister. I have the ring and everything. We’ve been happy for 5 years and have made it work. Please, she’s really all the good I have left. I would throw everything away for her. And-”
Max’s laughs stopped him from continuing. The Dutchman slapped a hand on Charles’s thigh, making him wince a bit. 
The Red Bull driver’s eyes were crinkled with a smile as they pulled up to the parking spot. 
“Just keep her happy, or I will run you off the track.” 
“Y/n! I told you he’d threaten me!” 
“Max!” 
“Oh come on I did not!” 
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y/nverstappen4 has posted
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y/nverstappen4 WE DID IT! P1 BABAYYYYYYY 🏆
nothing beats a podium with me on the top step surrounded by my boys 💙🧡❤️
liked by mclaren, team_quadrant, charles_leclerc, and 2,903,940 others
queeny/n LETS ACTUALLY GOOOOOOOOO
mclaren that's our girl 🧡 well deserved
lecstappenshipper this is basically a hard launch
y/nhaswins such a beautiful race y/n!!!!
charles_leclerc so so proud of you mon ange 🧡❤️ *liked by y/nverstappen4*
charles_leclerc celebrations tonight? 😈
y/nverstappen4 but of course
maxverstappen1 I know where you sleep leclerc 🙂
y/nverstappen4 DRINKS ON MAX TONIGHT
oscarpiastri YEAAHHHHHHH 🍾
maxverstappen1 what?
charles_leclerc thank you max ☺️
maxverstappen1 I NEVER AGREED TO THIS
oscarpiastri mega job mate 👊
y/nverstappen4 ossieeeeeee 👊 don't worry, you'll be up there soon! just gotta wrap your car in bubble wrap to protect it from evil ferrari 😠😤
charles_leclerc ☹️
y/nverstappen4 NOT YOU CHARLIE - THE OTHER ONE (LEWIS HURRY UP)
lewishamilton you don't think I'm trying 🤨
mcy/n she's so funny what the heck?? 😂
chefy/n we said - LET HER COOK
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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jeongin-lvr · 2 months
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hihihi I have a thought !! Jeongin's reaction when he found out that reader is a camgirl
ᵎ 🍶 ⊹ camera shy, y. jeongin
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꒰ 🗯️ ꒱ 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀��𝗍 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗏 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾!𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇,𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍,𝖼𝖺𝗆𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋,𝖽𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇,𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇,𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 ???,𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇,𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗈𝗒𝗌,𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍,𝗎𝗇𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽.
[ 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 ] 𝗍𝗒𝗌𝗆 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 <𝟥 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝖺 𝗀𝗈 <𝟥 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗍 𝟤 𝖺𝗆 𝗅𝗈𝗅 !!
[ 𝟦.𝟤𝗄 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 ] ✩ [ 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 ] ✩ [ 𝗆.𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]
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HE’S JUST your roommate. And as your roommate, he wasn't shy to just walk right into your room, ready to ask you about the mess in the kitchen or the curling iron you left in the bathroom the two of you shared. As your roommate he never expected to walk into your bedroom and see you spread wide in front of your desk computer, playing with yourself and talking to the camera.
Jeongin's jaw dropped straight to hell, his eyes practically bulging as he stared. It was impossible to turn away; it was like his gaze was glued to you. The way your fingers pressed into your clit like a button, your lips pressed together hard as you paused to breathe. Jeongin didn't know how to form sober thoughts anymore. He felt drunk and dizzy while staring at you, his mind was slurred and even though he wasn't saying anything, he felt he wasn't making sense.
You hadn't noticed him standing in the doorway, surprisingly. Your eyes were still seductively staring into the screen, gaze falling to every other comment, smirking at some of the more desperate ones.
You spoke slowly, like you wanted everyone there to understand, even Jeongin.
"I'm all wet just for youuu." Your voice fell into a soft whine, sing-song like as you smile. Jeongin doesn't know why but your words go straight to his dick and he braced himself on the wall, fearing he'd lose his balance.
You continued, still somehow unaware of Jeongin's presence. It didn't help that the room was dark apart from the dim light of your desktop and the pale bulb of your bedside lamp. Your head was facing the screen entirely, too focused to even notice his watching figure on the sidelines.
You weren't anything like the Y/N he usually saw. Normally you were quiet and a bit shy, he'd never take you for the type to be so lewd behind the scenes. It was dangerous the duality you secretly held. Your eyes were low and dark under the limited light, lips glossed and shiny, your pretty body cutely dressed in something that Jeongin never knew he needed to see. A pale pink lingerie set, gorgeous around your curve with bows on every line of lace, sewn into the straps and panties cutely. All this and Jeongin's mouth watered like a dog; shamefully, he was already hard,embarrassingly so.
You hissed as you read something, assuming to be someone's comment out loud, "You look so good right now, that set suits you," You smiled sweetly like it was any other compliment, your cheeks dimpled and hot, "Thank you, I picked it out for you."
Jeongin's brain went foggy again. If he could get his feet to work he would've left already, embarrassed yet painfully hard. He wished he could find the strength to turn around and fix himself up— ease the burden of blood rushing to his cock. You were doing something to him he didn't except. He's watching you like god herself had divined right before him; he's thinking like Satan had run his fingers along his skin and tainted his mind. He felt dirty, he felt like perverted loser as he stood frozen watching you.
You bit your lip, sucking in a breath of air softly as your fingers slid down your slid, poking daintily at your hole.
"I actually have a surprise for you guys," You began with a soft smile, eyes a little hazy as you reached over your desk. You pulled out of what seemed to be thin air, a hot pink dildo, the color harsh and bright. Jeongin almost choked at the sight, the color, the length, the idea of you putting that into yourself— it felt like a fever dream to witness, "Isn't it pretty? I bought it yesterday... should I try it on stream?"
Jeongin listened like he was an avid viewer; like he himself had paid the same money those people on the stream had to see you. Once again a wave of shame flushed across him, cheeks reddening but feet remaining concrete on the floor.
"Yeah? Okay," You seemed entirely too happy, leaning back in your chair and giving the viewers once again an amazing view. Your tits pressed together by your arms, your panties on you right ankle, dangling forgotten and free, "It's a bit bigger than I'd normally buy... I wonder if it'll even fit..."
Your eyes raised back to the screen and for a second Jeongin saw that shy girl he knew. Your eyes were widened and your lips damp and parted. It was a gorgeous sight and he felt a sudden urge to walk over there and grab your face, maybe even make you take all of him for those viewers to see. The power you held over him right now was insane and you didn't even know it.
You bit your lip with your eyebrows pressed together, bringing the thick silicone to your pussy, rubbing it along your clit whilst simultaneously collecting your own essence along the shaft.
Jeongin's eyes followed every movement you made; enamored as you held the toy to your hole now, sucking in a breath as you slipped it inside of you slowly, etching deeper and deeper until the majority of it disappeared inside of you.
Jeongin let out an audible groan, somehow you hadn't heard it; your head leaned back and eyes shut, embracing the feeling as your walls snugly held the dildo in place.
"F-fuck," You cried out softly, lifting your head back to the screen, "It feels so good... so much bigger t-than usual."
Jeongin could barely see your screen but he just knew the chat was exploding. Your eyes tried to follow each one but you were already growing woozy from the feeling; Jeongin could see it.
"O-oh," You whimpered as you rolled your hips off the chair, struggling to maintain yourself for the camera. You read a comment, "Wish you were taking my cock right now instead of that overpriced p-plastic," You nodded eagerly, eyes fluttery as another whine fell past your lips, "Me too, wish I had real dick right now... fuck."
Jeongin almost opened his mouth to speak before he caught himself; mouth too dry to even say anything to begin with.
"Can you moan a little louder for us?" You read a comment in a soft whispery voice. You nodded at this and let out your prettiest moan, hand moving the dildo in and out of your pussy in steady motions. Your head lulled backward, beginning to lose focus on the screen, "M' gonna cum fast tonight— fuck, feels s'good."
Jeongin's hand was softly caressing himself through his sweats, the tips of his ears stained a shade of red. His eyes scanned over your entire body; the lace that hugged your tits, the hot pink dildo disappearing then reappearing from your cunt, the squish in your belly and the swollen tint of your lips. He bit his lips, afraid he'd say something stupid if he didn't.
"Fu-fuck— can I? Can I cum?" You asked the stream, the people watching the lewd image before them. You whimpered again, thighs shaking and threatening to close.
You read the chat, grateful for the kindness tonight as the chat flooded with praise and yes's.
In his head, Jeongin was pleading with you to cum, his eyes fixed on your twitching kissy as you began to up your pace. You rapidly pushed the toy into you over and over again; moans getting more frequent and whinier.
You moaned out something incoherent and whiny, your head falling back, exposing your chest hidden beneath the thin veil of lace. Your orgasm came with no warnings, your moans expertly loud and helpless as you fucked yourself through your high.
All the while Jeongin palmed his bulge and wondered how he'd never seen you like this sooner. It had to be the best thing he'd ever seen.
Your high came in intervals, your head falling back and thighs twitching. Jeongin watched you lean your own head back, tilt it his direction and moan, eyes locking on hiss and in your orgasm-filled daze your hand reached out to him, making Jeongin's heart (and dick) lurch.
Your eyes glossy and your chest heaving as you mewled and moaned something that couldn't be understood; all the while your eyes on Jeongin, now aware of his presence and reaching for him with grabby, shaky fingertips.
"I-Innie—" You practically moaned his name as your orgasm fell, ending as you shook helplessly. You continued pushing the dildo into yourself, shame out the window as you continued to hold your gaze. Jeongin couldn't break his eyes away.
"Fuck," He huffed, eyes wide, trying to collect what little dignity he had left, "Sorry— I'll go—"
You shook your head, somehow already knowing exactly what was going on. Your eyes fell to his hand that tried (and failed) to cover his erection, the denim of his pants visibly uncomfortable around his hard cock. You reached again, teary eyes now as you overstimulated yourself with your dildo, still brave enough to stare at him.
His eyes. They were slender and a little nervous yet equally so aroused and dark. The darkness of the room didn't help; making him look especially enticing. While any other night you'd gladly take the chance to have him, especially tonight.
From Jeongin's messy, dyed hair to his expensive facial features. High cheekbones and dangerously pretty eyes, lips soft and pink with the prettiest Cupids bow. Not to mention his beautifully carved body, broad shoulders and chest hidden beneath the thickness of his hoodie. You caught glimpses of his figure all the time, and each time you were drooling in your mind for him.
"Innie... please." The adrenaline of an orgasm gave you the courage to call for him. To plead with him to stay. The chat was exploding with questions, one after the other, donation after donation with notes asking who you were talking to. Your boyfriend? A friend? They were curious, who is this mystery person you're calling out to? Your shaky hands reached for him longingly and the viewers couldn't see but Jeongin didn't hesitate to step toward you, finally being able to pick up his feet.
When Jeongin came on screen all that was visible were his arms and his body, face excluded and cut off screen just at his jaw. The chat was exploding now more than ever, the notification of donations being ignored as the two of you held a longing stare. It was silent, your legs still spread and your mind foggy. Jeongin's vision was blurred but he could make you out so much clearer than before. The dimness no longer shrouded your beauty but highlighted it. Your sweaty chest, your lustful eyes.
He stared and to you it made you sober up a bit, wondering if you'd made the wrong move, but to him be was taking it all in before he grabbed you and bent you over the table. Jeongin cupped your chin, fingers slightly gripping the soft flesh and squishing your lips into a pout.
He didn't care that cameras were rolling, nor that hundreds if not thousands of people were watching the two of you right now. Thinking about it was pointless anyway— all he wanted to do was have his way with you.
"Jeongin..."
You asked quietly, wishing you hadn't said anything now. Afraid of what he was going to say; would he ridicule you? Call you a good for nothing whore and stampede out of the room? Why was he staring into your eyes so deeply? How was he so hot even when you could barely make out his eyes beneath the shroud of dark?
"I'm thinking..." Jeongin stated simply, voice barely audible by viewers.
Your body was shaky and so was your breath, "About... what?" You bit your lip, speech slurred by the way he held your face.
Jeongin's breath fanned your face, warming it even further, sweat beginning to dribble down your temple just from his stare alone.
"All the ways I could fuck you right now."
You practically moaned at the sound of his voice, let alone his words. Such nasty, lewd words that lingered in the air for a minute, a flume of tension rising around the two of you. It was undeniable. You didn't even bother to say more, just staring up at him wide eyed, silently daring him to do it; show you the best he's got. Show everyone watching behind their screens what he could really do.
Jeongin didn't hesitate, bringing you upward, all of his once raging shyness gone. He's got the opportunity and he'd call himself and idiot if he let it pass him by. He flipped you toward the screen, your face inches away as you leaned on your hands, tits threatening to spill from their pink lace homes. You moaned as his hands laced through your hair, digging into your scalp then dragging through the half-made knots. You winced when he wrapped an arm around your waist, adjusting you to his liking, moaning again as he pressed his thick, hot bulge against your backside.
You moaned but it wasn't for the camera this time. You don't know why but Jeongin had this effect on you; something you hoped you'd get to experience again after this.
"Oh— put it in— please, please," You begged outwardly with starry eyes, avoiding your reflection in the monitor and instead staring at his clothed chest, noticing the way his chest rose and fell erratically, "Innie, I can't— want you so bad, p-please!" Your voice was akin to a sob now, breathless as he watched your figure squirm and writhe beneath him.
He swore it altered the chemistry in his brain, ultimately frying it. He saw colors he'd never seen before, he tasted things he'd never tasted before this very moment. All of it was thanks to you.
Those pretty sounds you made eggend him on further, giving him the confidence to speak, "Baby... just look at the camera and hold still."
His voice was nonchalant and demanding but he swore on the inside he was about to combust. His eyes fell to your pretty ass, round cheeks curved up as your back arched; his dick slotted so perfectly between them, the bulge itching to be freed and find it's place in your cute body.
"Take this thing out..." Jeongin pulled the dildo out of you, chuckling at the sight of how much cum fell from the tip, sticky and leaking on your ass and his hands. He tossed it to the side with little care for where it landed; staring back at your cunt again, this time ogling at your cunt peeking through the side of your panties, wetness dripping down your thighs now. He sucked in a breath and a groan, eyes going to the screen as he realized he was on camera again.
"Innie... just fuck me already." You pushed your ass back against him, rubbing mindlessly against his bulge. Jeongin was never one to obey so easily, but this time he swore he'd never untied his sweats faster. He just had to have you right this instant, to fuck you in front of thousands and show them that you have what they'll never get: you.
He himself wasn't even sure if he was dreaming or not. Whether this was real or fake didn't matter to him now— all he cared about was the feeling of your ass pressed against him. God, was it something he could get used to. Just the sight alone left him quaking, pretty and round and daintily covered by the thin veil of pink lace. Leaving nothing to the imagination, only making his cock twitch in his pants.
"You're such a slut," Jeongin's voice was grating like sandpaper on wood, making your stomach flip and your knees shake, "Showing yourself off to the world like this... so wet too, fuck." Jeongin could barely formulate the words as his mind raced; all be could think of was all the things he wanted to do to you.
You whined at his words, clearly wanting to bite back only to receive a tap on your ass. Somewhat of a warning of what his big hands could do if you acted out. You let out a soft shriek that dissipated into a content sigh.
"Using a nasty little toy on yourself isn't gonna do much, sugar..." Jeongin was bending you further into your desk, the bottom half of his face appearing on screen as he whispered in your ear, "Wouldn't you rather have the real thing? Wouldn't you rather have me fill this pretty cunt up for you instead?"
You were quick to respond, nodding your head as you tried to turn your head to face him. He chuckled, nodding as well like a taunt.
"Tell them all then," Jeongin pointed to the screen. The feeling was utter humiliation— or at least it would be if you cared enough. If the bulge of his cock wasn't pressing deliciously against your cunt, applying just enough pressure to your clit. You weakly turned to the screen, mouth wet as saliva pooled in the corner of your lips.
The chat was spamming with questions still. Begging to know who this guy was and why he had shown up suddenly. Why they couldn't make out his face and why he was touching you. They were definitely jealous as he ran a hand up your spine, loving the way you reacted to him and arched your back.
"I-Innie's... he's gonna fuck m'now..." You stared blurry eyed at the screen, listening to the sound of Jeongin shuffling and pulling his dick out from his boxers, slipping his tip up and down your folds. He listened to you continue, "He's— he's gonna fuck me for y-you all." You wiggled your ass slowly with a sly chuckle, pressed your lips together when he suddenly grabbed you. His fingers were rough and his eyes were straight on your ass. His cock leaking against your ass as he adjusted you to his liking.
"Go on." He ordered. The calm yet demeaning sound of his voice making you itch to feel him.
"Can't wait to feel it. Been wanting to since foreverrr," You continued now, "Fuck, want it so—"
Jeongin pushed into you suddenly, making you choke on your words, spit dribbling out the side of your mouth. Evidently shutting you up, he laughed and gave your ass a nice rub. But inside his nonchalant, almost mean demeanor he was losing it.
Never had Jeongin thought he'd be perfectly snug between your thighs inside your gummy walls. Was it something he'd find himself thinking about randomly? All the time. Had he ever thought his fantasies would become a reality? No, not at all. But right now he was reveling in the moment, every breath was like his final, taking it in slow as he tried to think straight. You were squeezing him impossibly good, almost painful like you were choking his poor dick.
Meanwhile, your brain was turning to mush, staring blankly ahead at the screen, eyes too lazy to refocus on the spamming chat. Mostly egging you both on, instructing things to do as if it were their own personal game.
Jeongin wondered how his shy roommate, the girl who was meek and quiet in public, had managed to keep such a dangerously attractive secret for so long. Had you always done this? Was this a new thing? So many questions yet all at once all he needed was to feel you more.
So he gripped your waist, focusing on the pleasure of you, "Fuck, s'better than I imagined."
You nodded softly, already whimpering and moaning between each breath.
Jeongin's eyes were shielded by his hair as he read some of the comments, flabbergasted by some of the shit they were saying. Even more shocked by the amount of money reeling in now. Before his eyes, flashes of donations and notifications beamed over the screen like little surprises.
Jeongin decided in that moment to give the viewers what they want. He bit his lip as he slowly slid out, leaving his leaky red tip in before pushing back in. He was slow and deliberate, all the while his hands ran up and down your waist, reaching and grabbing for any part of you he could.
His eyes came across a specific comment; call her a slut.
Jeongin had no problem doing that, so he lowered a hand to your jaw, gripping your poor, flushed skin and angling your head toward the camera. Your eyes were struggling to stay open and your mouth hung agape. "Fucking slut... desperate to get fucked in front of all these people... nasty aren't you?"
You didn't deny it, instead whimpering at a particularly sharp thrust inside of you. Your nails were digging into the desk, your face felt hot, and your body ached already, "Y-yes."
"What's that?" Jeongin only said it to watch the way you stammered, almost embarrassed to repeat yourself.
"Yes!"
"That's more like it. Speak up, don't hide your sounds, slut."
Jeongin obeyed the comments religiously; even chanting little moans like church hymns. He wasn't gentle, leaving you babbling and drooling. He wasn't even sure you realize you were still displayed on screen for everyone to see. His hands instinctively glided up your body as his eyes scanned the chat once again, looking for inspiration, something to drive you wild with. Satisfy whatever thirst was brewing in the chat.
He kept his moans to himself, slowly losing it each time he listened to your delicious sounds.
Jeongin smirked at another comment; how does it feel?
“See that?” Jeongin pointed your head at the monitor, chuckling when you whispered out a moan, “They’re asking you how it feels. Go on, tell them, slut.” He gave you a particularly harsh thrust, similar to a gentle nudge forward.
Your fingers curled around the edges of the desk, the little table rocking slightly as he slowed his hips down; your body reacting with little pushes back against his hips. Jeongin stared at the screen impatiently, watching as you tried to focus your poor, watery eyes.
“I— I can’t,” You struggled, feeling his strong arm wrapping around your torso, “So deep…”
Jeongin bit his lip, sliding his hand up to grip the back of your neck, pulling you backward. He wasn’t in the mood to be patient anymore; he wanted to fuck you. He was so close and you saying shit like that didn’t help him at all. By the way you were flinching and preening, his name melting off your tongue and heating the air, had his mind slipping. Jeongin gripped your body tightly against his chest, not a care for how the camera was catching you two— you both sweaty and lust filled. Your body reacting with little jerks each time his cock slipped into you completely from sensitivity; prior orgasms giving you the blessing of a fast approaching orgasm.
Jeongin’s hot breath fanned your face, “You close? Tell me, fuck, c’mon.”
You nodded, his fingers grazing up your jaw, “So close… right there, r-right there!” You jaw hung open, little ‘ah’s’ filling the air, whiny and addicting. Jeongin was groaning, lost in the pool of his own pleasure as you squeezed him just right.
“Cum on my cock,” Jeongin groaned breathlessly, rocking you along with his desperate thrusts, “Oh— fuck, s’tight, dammit!”
You came so hard the world went white; blurring your mind and sending you in a spiral of pure bliss. Your body was twitching, going limp in his arms like jelly. His eyes squeezing shut as you did so, curling his toes to keep his orgasm in check.
Before your orgasm was fully done he was pulling out and bending you forward into the desk again, not caring for the things along the table bruising your skin. He pushing you into the wood by the back of your head, slender fingers curling in your hair. He fucked the last of his stamina into his fist, jerking himself off until his dick spurt pretty ropes of pearly cum, thick and steaming along your skin as it landed in gorgeous patterns.
You panted into the desk, eyes focusing on the random corner beside the wall, your mind coming down from a high that left you practically glitching. Jeongin stood up with slumped shoulders, hand dropping his flaccid dick as he panted out little breaths.
Your lips hung wide as realization slowly hit. Usually you’d do a quick goodbye for your viewers, maybe thanking them or doing something small. But this time your body reacted faster than your brain could properly function. You raised your shaky arm to the monitor and simply shut the whole device off, eyes slowly widening, trailing toward the boy behind you.
Your own roommate. Someone you considered a pretty close friend— someone you saw everyday. The boy you complained to and cried to a few times. Now you can add another thing to that list; the boy who made you cum on camera for thousands.
Almost like Jeongin knew what you were thinking he tapped your ass with a little chuckle. His grip finding your waist again, “I didn’t know you were a camgirl.”
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wherewolf · 1 year
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the responses i’ve seen to shiv’s ending seem very quick to write her off as just another sad victim of the cycle, which isn’t without truth BUT!!! that is not even remotely the summation of shiv’s story.
i don’t think she votes yes to “save kendall” or to try to finally set her brothers free. and i don’t think her main concern was that ken was becoming their dad. she absolutely noticed and didn’t love it, but that was not her motivation in betraying him. she was thinking about herself.
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it’s tempting to make a martyr out of her as she is the only female child and we see her suffer the onslaught of misogyny that comes with that. but to make her into a saintlike figure who got beat takes away the power and intelligence behind her decision.
at this point she’s stuck between two non ideal choices, but she recognizes that they have accidentally made her the single most important player in the game. because while she can’t have the outcome she’d prefer, she has the power to decide the fates of everyone else. the written off lone woman now holds in her hands the fate of every man in her life.
so she thinks about the long term benefits of both options and realizes that one side leaves her completely without any leverage.
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her brothers have proven to her multiple times in the last few days alone that they will cut her out and walk all over her the first chance they get. siding with them leaves her nothing to bargain with. she would just have to hope that ken would actually take care of her. and that level of vulnerability is not only unacceptable to her, it’s stupid. and shiv fuckin roy is not stupid.
so she thinks about the other side and about what she actually wants for her life. and against her better judgment, it’s becomes unfortunately clear that she wants tom. the way she wants him is not altogether loving or even good but it is necessary to her. she sees relationships as having winners and losers and she chose this man specifically so that she could be confident in her ability to win. except now he’s grown some balls and made himself unavailable to her.
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she may not like the way her husband is evolving but she already placed her bets on him, so she’s sure as hell not losing to him now. there’s also a part of her that feels intrigued by this new man she’s married to. it’s interesting to have a sparring partner in him instead of having to looking for excitement outside of their marriage.
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so for maybe the first time ever, she processes what tom has said to her and thinks about what he actually wants.
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he needs her to prove that she cares. he needs to know that she is capable of sacrifice. if she can’t find it within herself to do this for him, then she will lose him, and by extension, she will lose.
siding with tom gives her the opportunity to once and for all make a grand-stand gesture of love, but more importantly, it creates leverage for her. never again will he be able to hold the moral high ground over her head. never again can he say she doesn’t love him. never again can he call her selfish or uncaring. above all, he can never betray her again, because she just removed all of his moral justification for turning on her. he doesn’t realize it yet, but she’s just taken back all the power in their relationship. just in a more subtle way than she’s used to operating.
and just like that, she has the ceo of a multi billion dollar company in her pocket, while situating herself as the only descendant of logan roy to still be playing the game, having removed her brothers from the equation permanently. she may still be far from the top but she’s creating a path for herself to climb.
so yes, she’ll let tom play king for a day, and she’ll have his baby and say “congratulations,” and play the gracious wife, but tomorrow is a new day with lots of room to maneuver. and when her husband puts out his hand, she’ll place her own on top. but she won’t grasp it because she doesn’t need to.
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too-deviant · 3 months
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The incessant ringing of loneliness (or three weeks part two).
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Apollo!Reader
Summary: Luke is back, officially. But you can’t find it in yourself to be happy about it.
Content: angst, loser!luke makes an appearance, a lil fluff, this one is probably happier than part one
Word Count: 4k
Notes: i can’t thank you guys enough for the love on three weeks :( it really means the world, and i hope you enjoy this one too! i don’t think there’s gonna be a part 3 just because i want the rest of luke and r’s story to be up to your own interpretation - especially since his path to healing is such an important factor and it could go in any way. hope that’s ok with you guys :)
꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷
You weren’t very popular at camp.
Despite the fact that you’d been there for longer than most of its occupants, and that you’d bandaged up some of their gnarlier injuries, you just didn’t have what it took to have people know your name upon first glance.
Clarisse had her unbridled aggression — she scared people into knowing who she was. Charles Beckendorf was the guy you went to when you broke a sword and didn’t want Chiron finding out about it, plus he was six foot six and kinda hard to miss. The Stoll Twins were behind pretty much every crazy scheme that ended up in Hermes losing desert privileges. Luke was…well, he was Luke. Need I say more?
Point is, while everyone knew everyone, not everyone really knew you. They knew your face, your parentage, and your overall skill set. But they didn’t know your name, or what made you tick.
Which was fine, really. You liked the alone time you got in the infirmary when your sister would run out to gossip with her friends in Aphrodite whenever she saw them walk by. You didn’t mind that, when your cabin got their hour of free time each day, your siblings would rush off to their friends and you would simply settle down with a good book.
It’s not as if you were entirely lonely — you had your fellow Apollo kids. You, Alina and Lee bonded especially, being the older kids of the group. So you had them — the only difference was that they had other people, too.
Which, again, was fine.
Except when you started to take care of Luke, you finally felt like you had a person. You looked forward to seeing him after meals each day, and you found excuses to linger in his room whenever possible. Call it odd, but you grew to enjoy the fact that nobody else knew he was back. Because that way, you had him, he had you, and that was that.
But then Luke got better.
You didn’t even have time to worry about it — one minute you were scarfing down your breakfast, eager to bring that second plate up to the Big House, and ignoring the strange looks your siblings sent you. Then in a split moment, everyone was cheering, people were standing and suddenly you didn’t feel so crowded anymore.
You heard murmurs of excitement, but people were practically standing on the table around you — unhygienic, much? People are eating here — and you couldn’t see what they were looking at. You tugged on your brother’s leg and he glanced down at your raised brow, then he said, “Luke’s back!”
It was like you were sucked back in time. No — it was like you were sitting in a waiting room, shivering from the cold breeze that whisked in through the automatic doors. And then the doors closed, and you could release the tension in your body because the warmth was already reaching your fingers — only for someone to walk past and make the doors open again, sending the sharp sting of the cold right back to where it was before.
Yes. That’s what it was — the warmth Luke’s eyes on you had provided was suddenly ripped completely from you the second your brother's words reached your ears. Replaced with the blistering cold of nobody ever knowing your name.
So it was back to normal for you. The normal you had grown accustomed to — the normal you liked. The normal you thought you liked, anyway. 
You didn’t even catch a glimpse of Luke’s face as you stood and left the Pavilion, focusing on the floor beneath your feet rather than the crowd forming around him. Oh, but you couldn’t forget that he was back, it was all anybody could talk about. Once they’d done the math and realised he was the patient you’d been taking care of for three weeks, you locked yourself in your cabin to avoid all the questions, and didn’t see him until the very next day. 
The chatter of Luke’s return had died down when you woke up the next morning — a little later than you usually did, Lee having to shake you so you wouldn’t miss breakfast. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and pulled a clean camp shirt over your head, stumbling a little due to the fact that you hadn’t fully woken up yet. 
When you were ready, Lee was waiting by the door. A few of your siblings were still getting themselves into a line after his loud Fall in! had woken them up, so you had time to stretch your arms and let out a sigh once you had taken your place beside him. You and Alina always walked with him to mealtimes, even though neither of you were counsellors, and you greeted her with a smile. 
The air was stuffy again — so much so that even Lee let out a wince when the shining glow of the front door hit his eyes. Then he stepped out of the cabin — his usual routine of checking the garden and cabin for pranks before letting them out coming into play. But he stopped. 
“What?”
He swung his head back at you, brows raised and smile growing, “Luke’s back.”
Out of instinct, you rolled your eyes, “Pretty sure we all know that, already.”
“Yeah, but —“ He turned fully then, hands on the doorframe and grin shining, “He’s back, which means the Hermes kids are finally under control again, which means we don’t have to worry about being pranked first thing in the morning!”
“Holy crap.” Alina was grinning now, both of your siblings looking at you and each-other with this excited expression that made you sort of angry – why are they perceiving Luke? They’re not allowed. 
You huffed a sigh as Lee started to lead the line outside, “He got back yesterday, there’s no way he’s already –”
But he was. As you stepped into the sun, the skin on your thighs already forming an uncomfortable layer of sweat, you looked to where the Hermes cabin was filing out of their door, led by the one and only Luke Castellan. You paused. 
He’d been back a day. Sure, his scar had healed nicely, but it was only three days ago that he was struggling to hold his own in a sword fight – if he was back to his counsellor duties, was he going back to teaching sword fighting? You were unsure he should even be in charge of all those Hermes and unclaimed kids so soon, but going back to teaching only days after coming back to camp? There was no way he was ready for that.
Should you say something? Or would he dismiss you, now that he was done with you?
You watched as he walked with Chris, chatting idly as if nothing was wrong. But you saw Chris glance occasionally at the jagged line through his brother’s eye, and you saw Luke attempt to ignore it. 
Should you say something?
You tripped. You were so busy staring creepily at Luke that you tripped over your own feet and tumbled into Lee’s back. He stumbled slightly but righted himself with a huff and a chuckle, turning and asking if you were alright. 
But you had looked straight back in Luke’s direction – he was still talking to Chris. He wasn’t looking at you. 
He wasn’t your person anymore.
Luke was unsure. 
Which didn’t happen often — as one of the oldest campers, and the one everyone else looked to in times of peril, it was sort of essential for him to be sure. He needed to know what to do, to have a solution for every situation, and to be completely calm about it. Otherwise, camp would go to shit. 
That much was obvious — he didn’t know why you hadn’t told him this in the three weeks you spent together, but camp had turned itself upside down in his absence. Apparently nobody was prepared for him to be gone for so long, and they kind of all lost their shit. 
He was happy to be back, don’t get him wrong. He lit up when he saw his brother’s faces again, when he felt their arms wrap around him. He laughed when Travis joked about thinking he was dead, and when Connor quipped that the camp was seconds away from starting a revolution. He nodded at Chiron, smiled amusedly when Mr D rolled his eyes, he scooped Annabeth into his arms, whispered to her that yes, he was alive, and he let himself be whisked to his table, the crowd following like moths to a flame. 
It was slightly overwhelming, but he was well-equipped to deal with it. He liked the feeling — if he ignored the throbbing on the side of his face, it could be like he’d never even left. The quest never happened, the dragon never happened, and people are just happy to see him because he’s their counsellor. Of course they would be. Everything was fine. 
Everything was fine — so he ignored the urge to scan his eyes across the crowd in search of a familiar head of hair. He stopped himself from glancing at the Apollo table, from looking in Lee’s direction, just in case he wasn’t standing alone. 
Because he didn’t need you anymore. Not that he didn’t appreciate all you did for him, but the healing was done. He was better, he was back at camp — he was Luke Castellan again. If he looked for you, if he met those eyes and returned that smile, it would be admitting defeat. Admitting that he wasn’t better, that he still needed his doctor. 
But he didn’t. Because he was back, baby! And he didn’t need to think about that stupid quest, his stupid dad, or his stupid scar ever again. 
He had a short chat with Chiron, who looked a little uneasy when he expressed his readiness to get back to camp duties. He told him that it was fine if he needed time to settle in, but Luke was firm. He didn’t need to settle, he didn’t need to wait. So Chiron sighed, and told him to escort his cabin to the climbing walls for their morning session. 
And that’s how the rest of the day went — climbing wall, arts and crafts cabin, strawberry fields, archery practice. Luke did it all, just like he used to before he left. If people would just stop looking at his damn scar, maybe he could pretend he never left at all. If they stopped murmuring about him being the secret camper, hidden from them this whole time, he could avoid thinking about you and the sweet touch of your fingers on his face. 
The fact that he hadn’t seen you at all since his return helped him on that front — you weren’t around at breakfast, lunch or dinner. You weren’t in the infirmary whenever he peeked through the windows. You weren’t with the rest of your cabin when they were paired with Hermes for hand-to-hand defence practice. 
Not that he was looking for you, or anything.  
“Hey, man.” Chris clapped him on the shoulder as they walked up to breakfast. It had officially been twenty-four hours since Luke’s return, and the chatter had died down significantly. That was good for him, helped him ignore the fact that he was ever not there. 
All he had to do was keep his eyes off you — who had magically reappeared in camp — as you also walked up to breakfast, the Apollo kids trailing behind you, Lee and Alina. 
“Listen, you did great yesterday.” His brother was saying, and he zoned in on it. “It was like you never left.”
Cool, that was the plan. 
“But it’s sword fighting today.” 
Luke raised a brow, “So?”
“So…” Chris sang, awkwardly waving a hand, “You don’t have to jump right back into training us, is what I’m saying.”
He scoffed, running a hand through us curls, “Nah, bro, I’m good.”
“Are you sure? Because —“
“Y’know, Chris,” Luke sent his brother a cheeky look as they took their seats around the Hermes table, “if you’re scared to get back to my gruelling training sessions, just say that.”
Chris’ face fell, appalled, and he put a hand on his chest, “Scared? Dude, you’re the one who should be scared. I’ve gotten good since you’ve been gone.”
And there it was — a reminder that it wasn’t the same. That he couldn’t pretend he had never left, because nobody else was. Whatever, it’d be fine. A couple of weeks and this would all blow over and he would never have to think about it again. 
The Amphitheatre, unlike the rest of the camp amenities, was familiar to him. He didn’t need to stand and take it all in like he did with everywhere else, because he’d been here not even a week ago with —
No. Stop. You aren’t in his life anymore. He never went on his quest. Everything is how it should be. 
The kids gathered around him were letting off a range of emotions as Luke stood before them, sword in hand. The younger ones were giddy, eager to get back to training with their favourite teacher. Some of the older ones, however, were only slightly confused that he’d bounced back so quickly. If he had to spend three weeks in the Big House before even going outside, was he ready to jump right back into sword training? Maybe he’d go easier on them today, take it slow. 
“Alright — if there’s anything I've learnt over the years, it’s that sword fighting is all about reflexes. So, today, we will be working on y’all’s dodging skills. Oliver, get up here!”
Luke was back on Mount Tamalpais. The fiery breath Ladon was shooting at him seared his skin and burnt holes into his shirt. He was ducking out of the way, but there was no room to breathe when another one of his hundred heads came at him with a fierce snarl. His sword felt useless in his hands, every swing being deflected and every jab proving useless compared to the dragon's swift movements. 
He blinked, and he was back at camp. Sparring with an unclaimed kid who’s name was lost on him. Sweat dripped down his brows but he wiped it away with shaky fingers. He gave an off-handed comment on the kids form before calling a water break. 
“Yo— woah, man!” 
Chris looked wide-eyed at Luke. He had tapped him gently on the shoulder and he had responded with an aggressive swing towards him. He stepped out of the arc just in time, but Luke still dropped the sword like it had burnt him. He stepped back, hands shaking, and stared at the ground. 
It was odd — being at Archery in the mornings. You’d spent three weeks skipping the hour in favour of taking food to Luke and ensuring his dressings were changed. Which for most cabins, was what? Three classes a week? 
Not for the Apollo kids — who have always and will always have their first hour spent on the Archery fields. Mainly because it’s when the sun is rising, shining on them in the early mornings and giving them their power to hit the bullseye. You included, even if healing was more your purview. 
So you’d missed probably around twenty classes, give or take a few. Your form was, well, subpar at best. Lee had to spend the entire hour making sure you didn’t accidentally hit one of your siblings — and that was after he had to re-teach you the basics. 
You probably would’ve been better had you not been so distracted — your mind whirring with thoughts of Luke. You wished your brain would just leave it alone, but apparently you weren’t done mulling over the situation. You wanted to slap yourself across the face and say hey, idiot. The three weeks is up, he’s healed. It’s over. But your siblings would probably look at you weird, so you decided against it. 
Instead, you threw yourself into your duties. Archery was a bump in the road, but now you were smooth sailing. You didn’t focus on anything else but what you had to do that day — not taking a moment to breathe because if you did that, you’d start thinking about Castellan again. You didn’t want that, you really didn’t want that. 
It was going really well, too. But then Chiron just had to interrupt your canoeing session, asking you to clear out any medical supplies you left over in the spare room of the Big House since nobody was staying there anymore.
Oh, great. You were thinking about him again. 
And then all the thoughts you’d been suppressing since ten in the morning were overflowing your head, and you thought you might have had to ask Mr D if you were going mad because when you cracked open the door and peeked your head in, Luke was sitting on the edge of the bed like usual and you had to blink to make the hallucination go away. 
Except it didn’t go away. Instead it looked at you and smiled, “Hi.”
Your lips parted, and you stepped in. Your eyebrows curved in on themselves, “Uh, hey. What are you…”
You were still about seventy percent sure that he wasn’t real, but nobody was there to listen to you talk to air, so you replied anyway. Luke clicked his tongue, let out a chuckle, then sighed, “I don’t think I can do it.”
Okay, fifty percent sure. 
“Do what?”
“Go back out there.” He gestured a hand to the window that pointed outside, although it was still covered with the curtain. “I thought…I dunno, I guess I got too excited yesterday. Thought I was ready to jump back into it.”
You stepped fully through the threshold, and he followed you with his eyes as you walked over to the desk. Nothing but a few spare bandages that you scooped into your arms before looking back at him. You tilted your head, “Healing isn’t linear. It’s perfectly normal to feel like you’re on top of the world one day and then like it’s crumbling around you the next.”
He stood, walked over to you. Thirty percent. 
“I don’t want to disappoint them.” 
“You won't.” You shook your head, “You made a big step, coming back to camp. That's it for now, you don’t need to take any more big steps for a while.”
He nodded, “No more big steps.”
“Not until you’re ready.”
Luke’s hands reached out, taking the bandages from where you cradled them to your chest. He put them back onto the desk behind you. Ten percent. 
His eyes bore into yours, “I don’t think I’m done healing.”
You shook your head surely, “I don’t think you are, either. And that’s okay.” 
He nodded, lips clicking when he parted them, “Which means you’re not allowed to leave me yet. You have to stay with me until I’m fully better.”
You shook your head then, stammering, “It’s — that’s not how it works. What you went through, it — you might not ever be fully better.” 
But Luke just nodded like he knew that already, taking a step closer, “I think I’m okay with that.”
“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say. What the hell do you say to that? “Okay.”
He nodded, pressing his lips together, “So you’re not gonna leave me.”
Five percent.
A shake of your head, “Not until you ask me to.”
“Good.”
He wrapped his arms around you, and you froze. Okay, he was real. He was really there. You were sure. You hugged him back — he buried his face into your neck and whispered something about you never leaving him again and you whispered something in return about how you wouldn’t dream of it.
So, apparently, you severely underestimated what it was like to be friends with Luke.
You’d thought about it — of course you had. You would imagine what perfect golden boy Luke Castellan was like when he didn’t have to be a perfect golden boy. When he could just be a boy, hanging out with his friends like a normal person would. What jokes did he tell? Did he still keep up that Luke Castellan Grin or did he relax into an easy smirk? Did he make his friends follow the rules even when they were alone? Did he follow the rules when he was alone?
You wondered, although you never thought you’d actually find out. But he’d made it clear you were never leaving his side so long as he still needed you — and he was sticking to that. Firmly.
The summer sun was hot on your back — only this time your dad seemed to be going easy on you, as you weren’t completely uncomfortable under the warm cotton of your camp shirt. You still wafted it every now and then, proving some cool air to your chest, but overall you were feeling good.
You walked into the Amphitheatre with the rest of your siblings — who were less than amused that, despite Luke’s return to camp, Tyler P from the Hephaestus cabin was still running sword fighting practice. They heaved themselves onto the tiered seats with dramatic groans, but he simply grinned at them.
You paused from where you were about to sit down next to Alina when a waving hand caught your peripheral. It was Luke, tucked into the very top corner of the steps, smiling at you from the shadows.
“What the hell are you doing?” You asked when you reached him, raising your brow in amusement. He patted the spot next to him and you sat down, just as Tyler began to talk. Luke leaned in.
“I’m watching.” He muttered into your ear, then he smirked at you, “You can’t stop me from doing that.”
“I wasn’t going to.” You murmured, leaning back on your elbows and watching as your siblings paired up reluctantly. “Thanks for pulling me away, though. Gives me an excuse not to take part.”
Luke huffed a laugh, “He can’t be that bad, right?”
“Just you wait.” You smirked.
Turns out, Tyler was that bad. Every ‘new skill’ he tried to teach them either (a) they already knew, something Luke liked to whisper at you with a shake of his head, or (b) he couldn’t even do it himself, let alone teach others how to. Another thing Luke commented on from where he sat beside you, hands aching to get in there and show him what was what.
“Just one tip, and then I’ll go.” He begged under his breath as Tyler dropped his sword for the umpteenth time. “Please.”
“No.” You didn’t even look at him, “Because one tip turns into a demonstration. And a —“
“— a demonstration turns into a class, yeah yeah.” He rolled his eyes, but you just grinned at him. He smiled, “You’re mean.”
“I know.” You said in a faux-sympathetic tone. You pouted at him, “I’m just so cruel, aren’t I?”
His eyes narrowed, and his mouth stretched into a disbelieving grin, “Damn, doc. What happened to you?”
You scoffed amusedly, “You did.”
His mouth dropped open and you smiled, looking away. He poked your side and you shuffled away with a giggle, attempting to ignore his riled up smile. He didn’t relent, for every inch you moved away from him, he scooted right back towards you. You looked at him with a narrowed gaze, “I miss when you were too miserable to talk to me.”
“No you don’t.” He shook his head. He was right, you didn’t.
He let out a slow breath through his nose, and you felt it on your face. That was when you realised how close your faces were — mere centimetres apart. You swallowed thickly, but you didn’t move away. Luke’s smile stretched, and his hand began to inch up your arm.
You squinted, “What are you doing?”
It was his turn to feign confusion, pulling his lips into the same pout you did only moments earlier, “What are you talking about?”
His hand was at your elbow now, sliding higher. You shook your head, a minute movement, “Doctor Patient Fraternising isn’t allowed.”
He gasped, pulling his hand back in favour of placing it dramatically against his chest, “It’s not?”
“Nope.” You grinned amusedly, “Sorry.”
“Damn.” He leaned back, glancing at you for a second before looking back towards Tyler’s shitshow of a sword lesson, “Guess I’ll have to get another doctor.”
You snorted, “You’re a loser.”
You stood up and went to rejoin your siblings, and Luke shouted after you, “I’m your loser!”
“What was that?” Lee asked when you stopped beside him.
“What? Oh,” You glanced back at where Luke was sat, and he averted his gaze from where he had been looking at you. You looked up at your brother, “He’s just happy to be back, is all.”
He chuckled, “Sure.”
Whatever. He was your person again and Lee could suck your dick if he had anything to say about it.
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murdrdocs · 3 months
Text
to forever always
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description. LUKE CASTELLAN has never had any interest in relationships. but when he sees that look in your eyes, the same one he keeps buried deep down inside of himself, there's nothing more he wants than for you to be with him. except, maybe for you to be like him.
includes. SMUT MDNI 18+ , heavy petting, grinding, making out, dark!luke, loser!luke, dark!reader, implications to maiming, luke is a professional at longing, reader has hair long enough to be pinned back, they play simon says, typical young adult awkwardness, drinking.
wc: 5.5k+
a/n: title from forever always by the driver era. ao3 link. art creds to yazed aljohani
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You’ve been at camp for nearly three months when Luke sees it in your eyes. 
You’ve been unremarkable at best before then. A late arrival without a capturing story carried along with you, no captivating backstory to draw attention. You stuck to yourself mostly, only coming out of your shell when conversing during training sessions with Luke. He went out of his way to set them up, fueled by the fact that you were older than most, closest to his age, and he didn’t want you to feel left behind when some thirteen year old could easily disarm you in five minutes flat. 
Truth be told, he pitied you. 
As a result, he trained you four times a week, pushing your body to its limits and sharing anecdotes during your break periods to provide some sort of solace for you. Because at the end of the day, Camp Half Blood was your home. At least, that’s how it was supposed to be presented. 
During his share of anecdotes, practically each story starting on that fateful day when he was fourteen, Luke left out his true feelings about the area surrounding you both. He preferred to keep you blinded with things happy enough to make you laugh, with only enough hints of the truth to make you start asking the right questions. 
His attentive training has hardened you around the edges. He’s made you a little rougher, or perhaps he’s chiseled away at the stone encasing your true nature, and the person he stood next to was who you really were. 
A warrior. 
An animal. 
Teeth bared, sword raised over the kid lying helplessly at your feet, your chest heaving with effort and a dark look in your eyes. Darker than Luke has ever seen before. It’s victorious, with a hint of a challenge in there. As if you’re daring this kid to stand up, gather his sword, and attempt to best you once more. 
Surely, with the way Luke has trained you, if the kid did make an attempt he would end up in the same position in no time. 
The sight is exhilarating. It makes the blood rush to Luke’s ears and his fingertips start to buzz with the fuel he’d never been able to use. But he’s in control here. And he has an image to uphold. 
He calls your name, firm and demanding. The tone of a leader. 
He rests a hand on the shoulder pad of your armor, pushing you back from the kid with enough force to distance you two. He fills the space created, his back to the others and his eyes cutting down at you. It takes you a second to lift your eyes to him, and when you do, when you look up at Luke—at your leader—you’re seething. 
Luke really tries to hold his smile in and he’s glad that right now, you’re the only one who can see him. 
“At ease. You got ‘em.” 
You watch him pointedly, nostrils flared, and Luke lifts an eyebrow with a controlled movement, questioning you, daring you to challenge him. 
You take a step back and rid the tension in your shoulders as you adjust your helmet. 
You don’t say anything, instead sheathing your sword into its scabbard and watching Luke once more, waiting for orders. 
He has trained you well. 
The energy around the campfire is palpable. It washes over the bodies of the campers surrounding the bonfire, settling over their skin and providing a glow.  Even some of the Ares kids appear to be beaming, although they were clearly sour about another loss. 
You, like everyone else, seem to be in good spirits too. A pleasant smile on your face as you watch the scene around you.
The fire burns a mesmerizing gold and Luke finds you watching it reach up toward the sky, your curious eyes taking in as much of it as you could. Your head is already tilted up, so you don’t adjust your position at all whenever Luke steps into perspective. 
He stares down at you for a moment, searching for that look in your eyes. The same one he saw during capture the flag a few weeks ago. 
Ever since then, Luke has developed a new fixation, one multiplied whenever he got a hit just a few days ago during training. 
He’d had you on your knees then. Your chest heaving with exhaustion as you were staring up at Luke with a look so threatening that he wondered what exactly you were capable of. You were definitely at your wits end by that point, but that wasn’t when he saw it. Deep within your eyes was sincerity, maybe a bit of worry, and Luke knew that if he drew his sword down to give you a critical hit, a final blow even, you would defend yourself. 
But that’s all. 
He hadn’t felt the need to prepare for an opposing attack. He knew you would defend yourself, but not go for the attack. You wouldn’t hurt him. And that wouldn’t do. 
So Luke laughed. He threw his head back and let out an exaggerated guffaw as he exclaimed that you looked perfect on your knees. As he insinuated that that was where you belonged. Beneath him. Beneath anyone. 
His teasing did the trick. And he has a healing scar on the outside of his forearm to prove it. 
Now, standing above you at the campfire, a setting so casual that it was almost sickening, Luke didn’t see any resemblance of anything challenging in your gaze. 
Instead, you appear back to usual, sitting alongside a few of the Athena kids yet not actively engaging in conversation, holding a burnt marshmallow on a stick with two hands, your elbows resting on your knees as you look up at Luke with that same pleasant smile. 
“This seat taken?”
He’s already sitting down as he asks it and if someone were to return, he knows they wouldn’t have attempted to reclaim their spot. 
You stare over at him with amusement written all over your face. 
“What if I said it was?” 
Luke shrugs. He reaches over, sliding your stick out of your hand and sticking the marshmallow back into the fire. He lets it ignite, turning it over to do the same to the other side, and after a second he removes the sweet treat, extinguishes the flames, and takes a bite out of it. 
You’re watching him, waiting for a response, and when you realize that he’d already given his response, you turn back to watch the fire instead. 
He lets you sit in silence, slowly chewing through the sticky food as he watches the side of your face. 
You look pretty like this. The amber glow of the fire illuminates your face, casting visually stunning shadows across your skin, highlighting places Luke has noticed but never appreciated until now. 
He has always known you’re pretty. He’s known it since you walked into camp, confused and stunned as demigods clustered around you. 
Luke remembers looking around at his fellow campers, noticing how judgmental they seemed. Because, in all honesty, you weren’t like the other people that came to Camp Half Blood. Not terrified, young, and lost in the world. 
Not only were you older, but you had a certain stance to you that told Luke you weren’t confused, just curious. Your head was lifted, your shoulders pressed back as you held up the thick straps of your stuffed book bag. You were faking to be unbothered, but as you eventually confirmed Luke’s prior assumptions, you were worried. 
Worried about the sea of young faces you saw. Worried that coming to Camp Half Blood at your age was a mistake. 
Until your eyes met Luke’s. His dark eyes were watching you, analyzing your form for potential. Trying to find areas that could be molded into a fighter, and aspects that didn’t have to be changed one bit. 
According to you, seeing Luke made you feel comfortable. Seeing Luke made you feel like coming to camp wasn’t a mistake at all. 
He is glad that you arrived as well. Because before you, Luke felt alone. 
He was looked up to, admired, respected, but rarely seen as just a peer. 
And even further, before you got here, he hadn’t seen himself being romantic with anyone. 
But now, sitting here with the gold of the fire affecting his mood in the same way he affects it, he has the sudden urge to intertwine your fingers with his or throw his arm over your shoulder. Maybe pull you into his side and plant his lips on yours, effectively claiming you as his and letting you claim him as yours. 
Instead, he knocks his shoulder against yours. 
“What’s got you looking so sad over there? We won today. You should be celebrating.” 
You laugh a little, but it’s not one of the big and genuine ones you give him when he cracks an impressive joke. 
“Give me something stronger than s'mores and maybe I’ll celebrate.” 
Luke faces back towards the fire as he tells you, “that can be arranged”. 
He notices you watching him from the corner of his eye. He can’t tell if you’re smiling, and if you are, if it’s one of genuine interest or one of amusement derived from misunderstanding his tone for a joke. 
Either way, you hum. “Don’t tease me like that.” 
He tilts his head a little. “Bold of you to assume that I’m teasing.” 
He stares at you and a moment of understanding passes by. 
Then, “but only if you tell me why you look so sad.” 
Luke knows he’s a brave person. Hell, he took on a dragon at just seventeen and lived with nothing but a scar as a reminder. (And the plaguing nightmares but what the others didn’t know won’t hurt them)
But he feels a different form of bravery find him as he reaches a hand out, plants his thumb at the corner of your lips, and tugs upwards. 
“You know what they say about turning that smile…” He lets the end of his sentence taper off, raising his eyebrows as if he expects you to finish the overdone phrase for him. It doesn’t surprise him when you swat his hand away instead. 
He thinks he sees you hiding a smile when you turn away from him for a second but when you return with another marshmallow, sticking it on the end of the stick in between Luke’s hands, your face is neutral. 
He thrusts the white into the burning gold as you begin to speak.
“Do you remember the first capture the flag win? When I was on defense with you?” 
One side of the marshmallow ignites and Luke turns it around so the other can do the same. 
“When you were taking down the others? Of course I do.” 
(Luke resists the urge to add a mention of how attractive you looked then. He doesn’t know how you would take the comment in general, much less when you seem to be going through some sort of moral battle)
“Yeah.” You take a moment. 
Luke takes the marshmallow out and blows on it. He lets it cool. 
“I didn’t feel like myself then,” you eventually admit.
“What d’you mean?” 
You shrug. “I dunno. I felt … meaner. Like–” 
“Like you wanted to hurt someone?” 
When you nod, you’re staring down at the ground, refusing to look up at Luke. 
He doesn’t know why he does it, but he lies. 
“That’s normal for demigods.” 
That gets your attention. You look over at Luke with hope in your eyes, the pair shining in the light as they flicker back and forth between Luke’s own gaze. 
“Really?”
Not allowed to back down now, Luke nods. 
“Yeah. That rage you have within you. The need to beat someone, to be better than someone. I feel it all the time.” And that, that right there, is the stone cold truth. 
He’s never admitted it to anyone else before, but with you, things feel different. He figures that this feeling he has around you is what some religious people feel in their faith. Maybe what some of the other believers at camp feel in regards to their parents. 
Luke pops the marshmallow into his mouth whole. 
You look relieved as you speak. He hadn’t noticed the tension in your body until it’s gone. 
“So I’m not messed up?” Your voice is small, weak, insecure, almost. 
Luke almost feels bad about lying to you. 
Almost. 
“Not any more than the rest of us.” 
What he doesn’t say is: not any more than me. 
As soon as his marshmallow is swallowed, he asks you to meet him later that night. 
Luke feels like he’s been waiting ages for you. 
He’s paced a path in the dirt, twirled the small dagger he kept on him until his fingers could no longer grip the handle comfortably, and he’s started to gnaw on his bottom lip in anticipation that at this point he worries that they aren’t kissable anymore. Because no matter how much he tries to lie to himself, he invited you out to the clearing that you train in with one intention in mind. 
He digs into the pocket of his cargos, searching for a second before his fingers wrap around the small tube of chapstick he got from one of his sisters. Cherry flavored, artificially so, but it still smells pleasant enough. Whenever he’d received it from her it was fresh, the seal unbroken, but since then he has used at least a quarter of its contents. 
The balm glides over the broken pieces of skin, smoothing them out as best as possible, and then Luke recaps the tube and stuffs it back into his pocket. 
It’s no sooner that the lip balm has found a home again that he hears the thud of a shoe against the soft ground behind him. 
He doesn’t turn around, not yet. He doesn’t want to seem too eager. Instead, he twirls his knife again, a little slower this time to prevent it from slipping and falling onto the ground embarrassingly. 
“Didn’t think I should’ve brought a weapon.” 
Just the sound of your voice makes Luke’s insides flutter. He feels stupid, silly even, to have such a crush like this. He feels juvenile. 
A smile briefly blooms across his face before he snips it off, turning around to look at you as neutrally as he can manage. 
“You should always keep a weapon on you. Don’t you remember rule number one?” 
Luke watches you reach behind your back for only a second before you brandish the dagger he’d given you for him to see, a triumphant smile on your lips. 
“I’m a good listener. Don’t you remember?” 
Proud, Luke tucks his dagger back into its holster and you do the same. 
He takes a step closer to you as he proposes his next question, a hand reaching up to flick off an imaginary lash from your cheek. He doesn’t know why, but as of today he’s found himself touching you more. Searching for any reason to justify feeling your skin against his. 
“How good of a listener are you?” 
Your head tilts a bit, eyes squinting, and he realizes that it’s an action he does often. The implications of you picking up things from him makes his chest bloom with something. Pride, maybe? 
“Try me.” 
You step back, giving Luke a full view of your body. 
He lets his eyes scan your frame once. Taking in your messy hair, pinned up for the night. Your sweatshirt with some school on it. Luke, not knowing much about the outside world, doesn’t know if it’s college or high school, much less its location. But it’s well worn in, clearly loved by you. You’ve paired it with a loose pair of pants, and Luke has suspicions that if he were looking at you from behind, the flowy material would perfectly outline your ass. 
He clears his throat and meets your eyes again. 
“Okay…” he thinks for a second. “Simon says: touch your nose.” 
You snort, rolling your eyes, but then you lift your right hand, single out your pointer finger, and press it against the tip of your nose. 
“Simon says: touch your toes.” 
Luke watches, seeing if he’ll catch you, but you keep one hand situated on your nose and use the other to reach down to press your hand against the beat up end of your sneakers. 
“Hm, okay,” Luke nods as if he’s impressed. Like you would struggle at a kids game. 
“Simon says you can stop.” 
You stand back up straight. 
“Simon says: spin around twice.” 
You spin around twice. 
Instantly, without giving you a second to rest, “spin around a third time.” 
You jerk for a second, but stay still in the end. Luke points, smiling a bit as if saying I almost had you. 
You don’t respond but your lips curl up into a little embarrassed smile. 
Luke continues giving you orders for a few moments, letting you get comfortable with the preface of “Simon says” just before he gives the final blow. 
“Kiss me.” 
There’s no order from Simon before it. Just Luke. He gauges your reaction. And when he sees you stay put, he tries to move on. 
“Simon says–” 
But then you’re walking towards him, and you’re reaching up to rest your hands on his shoulders, and you’re pulling him down to reach you better, and then you press your lips to his. It’s light, a barely there touch, and then you’re pulling away, walking back to your spot, and standing straight, waiting for your next order. 
“I didn’t say Simon says.” 
Proudly, you tell him, “I know.” 
There’s a moment where the only noise is that of nature. Of the harmony of the world existing around this possibly unharmonious moment. The brief balance could easily be thrown off by your reaction to the next bit. If Luke were being dramatic, he would claim that your reaction determines the fate of the world, and maybe even of his mission. 
He takes a breath, and then takes the plunge. 
“Simon says: kiss me again.”
This time, your kiss is firmer. You’re standing on your toes a bit, overcompensating for Luke who still stands tall with his shoulders back and his head up. 
Eventually, he dips his head down at the same time that he finally gets to touch you. 
It’s small, nothing but a hand on your hip, but the context of it changes everything for him. He’s touched you before, brief presses of his fingers against a part of your body to emphasize a point, or correct your posture, and then earlier when he reached out for the delicate skin on your face. 
Those things were friendly, that of a mentorship even. 
Nothing to this degree. 
You tilt your head and deepen the kiss, opening your mouth wider as you start to take control. And Luke hands it to you. 
He grips the loose fabric of your pants, takes the tiniest step forward, and presses himself against you. In return, you nudge closer to him, holding the sides of his head and keeping him steady to allow yourself to explore his mouth. 
He’s a little lost, he’s never gotten to this base with anyone before. Besides the time he kissed one of the Aphrodite kids as part of truth or dare years ago. But that kiss was nothing compared to this, not even on the same scale. 
In this field, he’s inexperienced. 
For fear of making a complete fool of himself, he simply mirrors in the form of reciprocation. 
When you press your tongue into his mouth, he does the same, meeting you not quite in the middle and simply doing what you do. 
There’s a moment there where you leave Luke’s lips, and he’s preparing himself to be upset when you pull away, but then your lips pucker and you suck his upper lip for just a split second, and you return to kissing him like his knees didn’t just get a little weak. 
Fortunately, the slight lapse presses his crotch against yours again, and you suck in a breath when Luke accidentally grinds his boner into you. 
Sensing that it’s something good, and satisfied that he’s not the only one as aroused as he is, he does it again. This time intentionally. 
He frees his grip on your pants to move his palms around, pressing into the top of your ass and the end of your back, pulling you closer to bump your crotches. 
This time, you do peel away from his lips completely, but it’s to let out the prettiest sound Luke has ever heard. 
Your eyebrows are pinched together a bit, your lips shining in the torch light and parted. 
You’ve only been apart for a couple of seconds, but Luke is on you again. 
He sacrifices the grip he has on your lower half to stretch his hand along the connection of the back of your skull and neck, fingers spreading as far as the tip of your spine to an inch into your scalp. 
He lets go of the insecurities he has in his lack of experience and just kisses you. His immediate intention isn’t to take control from you. Rather, it’s just to have you as close to him as possible. 
You respond eagerly. Arching into him, slinking your arms over his shoulders, pressing your hands into the muscles along his back. At one point, you lift your leg and nudge your knee against Luke’s side by way of getting even closer to him. The position change allows the first real touch of your centers together and your head falls back, exposing the pretty sight of your jugular to him. 
There’s a moment there where Luke has the urge to wrap his hand around it. But he fears what your reaction would be so he flexes his hand, and lets the thought evaporate into the stiff night air. 
Luke knows that he feels as he does because of the hormones swirling throughout his body, but he has the feeling that he can trust you. Really trust you. Enough to tell you everything he’s ever wanted to tell anybody. 
“Do you trust me?” He says it to you, his hand pulling your head back towards his, your lips mere centimeters a part. 
You nod, the tip of your nose nudging against his with each movement. 
Luke kisses you once, then tells you, “the gods, they–”. 
He doesn’t have a spiel planned, but his need to tell you everything has him covered. He knows that once he starts, he won’t be able to stop. Not until you understand your parents as he does. 
You put an unexpected dent into Luke’s poorly conceived plan when you shake your head. 
“Don’t wanna hear about the gods right now, Luke. Just wanna kiss you.” 
And the way you say it, like it’s something you need rather than just want, makes Luke abide completely. 
His free hand slips under your shirt, pressing his palm flat against your torso, and giving himself the first real press of skin on skin. He sighs, pulling away from your lips to knock his forehead against yours.  
He slides his hand up until he finds where your bra would sit. But he doesn’t run into any more material. Instead, he reaches a hill, one he nudges his thumb against, reaching up until he finds the beginning of your areola. Then, as if he’s realizing that he’s going further than he should be, he pulls his head away and looks at you. 
“Is this…?” The question makes him feel vulnerable. If he finishes it, he bares his wants out to you. And he knows that you have done the same for him already, but he doesn’t feel ready to invite the possibility of rejection. 
So instead, he raises his eyebrows and waits for you to catch on. 
You nod, biting down onto your lower lip. Your hands begin to search, too, leaving behind the sides of Luke’s face to tickle through the grown out hairs at the back of his head. 
What follows is the most carnal display of want that Luke has ever been part of. 
He starts by tweaking your nipples, applying light pressure and then smoothing it out when you moan. He watches your reactions to try and figure out what to do next, but luckily you end up pulling his hand away yourself, leading it to the elastic waistband of your pants. You look at him pleadingly, not needing to say what you want for Luke to take initiative. 
Luckily, the favor is returned. 
You unbutton his jeans, pull them down just enough, and reach a hand into the fabric, touching along the gingham pattern of his briefs. 
There’s not much coordination to it at all, but it doesn’t seem to bother either of you. From how Luke sees it, you’re equal amounts of eager, pressing against each other in multiple areas as if you’re both attempting to fuse your bodies together. 
In the excitement of it all, Luke accidentally bumps the heel of his palm against your center. He assumes that it would have hurt you, so he’s close to apologizing. 
Until you moan. 
That’s all it takes for Luke to push away the rest of his pride and insecurities. He takes a breath. 
“Will you … can you show me what to do? How to make you feel good?” 
Your reply is instant. “Two fingers.” 
He singles out his pointer and middle finger. 
“And then go...” You wrap your fingers around his wrist, pulling his touch up to find something that his fingers catch on, a bundle of nerves that apparently feels good for you. You nod, sighing out a small “right there”. 
He feels a little dumb when he asks, “What do I do now?” 
“Rub. Circles are best, but side to side works too.” 
So that’s what he does. 
He starts slow at first, the circles a little wide, but they feel good for you. You’re nodding, eyes fluttering shut a bit. You return your hand to Luke, pressing over his dick, and then sliding a little further down until you reach his balls. 
He tries to hide his sound, but a hitch of his breath comes out anyway. 
There’s a tree stump just behind you, a product of an accident Luke has yet to tell you about, but you direct him towards it, standing over him for a second when he falls back to sit on it. The two of you have sat on the stump a few times before, but never in this capacity. 
Luke watches you climb over him, straddling his hips, and pushing your crotches together.
Then, you grind. 
One of Luke’s hands finds your ass, the other reaches back to connect with what’s left of the tree, reclining his position just enough to provide more room. He lets you do the rest, spurring you on with little nods and small breaths. 
It’s not like you can see him, not when your eyes are pinched shut. 
Luke wants to join you. His eyes threaten to close and submerge him in a void that would enhance every single feeling. But closing his eyes means getting rid of this sight. And he never wants to forget what you look like right now. 
There’s sweat beading along your hairline and running down the side of your face. Your face is one of relaxation, save for the tiniest crease of concentration between your eyebrows. Luke can tell that you’re warm, and not just by the perspiration. But clearly his training has been paying off because your body doesn’t show fatigue. Your muscles are still taunt, your movements are still languid. You don’t show any plans of stopping anytime soon. 
And at first, that’s what Luke wants. 
There’s a few moments where he’s lost in oblivion. Where he pictures the worst thing in the world happening, and it’s you getting off of him. The feeling is so delicious, your centers grinding together, bumping clumsily yet still working in both of your favors. 
He doesn’t want it ever to end. 
And then he cums. 
Again, he tries to hide the sounds he makes. But a groan rips through his throat, jumping out of his mouth and falling directly onto the fabric of your shirt when he rests his forehead against your chest. 
He uses you as an anchor, his big hands gripping any part of you that he can find. He grips your clothes as he attempts to tether himself to the here and now. 
He’s huffing, spent even though he did none of the work. Eventually, he lifts his head to search for your lips, but then he winces when you keep going. 
He’s speaking in fragments. He’s trying to communicate his sensitivity. But you only shake your head, speeding your hips up a bit more. 
“Sorry, ‘m sorry. I’m almost there. Swear, Luke. I swear…” and it’s just then that Luke is presented with the prettiest image he’s ever seen. 
When his lips are numb and there’s a wet patch pressing against his sensitive cock in his briefs, Luke remembers the alcohol he has stashed within a bush. 
He presents it, feeling that same sense of pride spread through his chest whenever you seem delighted at the options, even though it’s just a box of hard seltzer one of his brothers snuck in at the beginning of the summer. When you ask him what it took to secure it, Luke brushes it off, not wanting to remember the poop scooping he’d doomed himself to. 
But the sight of you grinning before bringing the first sip of a cracked open can to your lips makes it all worth it. 
When you pull it away a bead of clear liquid snags on the corner of your lips. Luke’s eyes watch it glide down your chin, and before he can stop himself he reaches a hand out, once again feeling that bravery, and swipes his thumb at the liquid. 
He brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks it clean, surprisingly pleased at the flavor. 
You both make your way through multiple cans, and it’s only when there’s a slight slur to your words and a sway to your frame that you ask Luke about your parents. And not about the stories you’ve been told throughout school, or the glorious recounts about how they’ve helped their kids. But the truth. About how Luke feels. 
And he turns to you, smiling gently, and begins to tell you, becoming more and more pleased as you begin to express the same outrage as him. 
He doesn't have to question if you'll be a valuable ally. He doesn't have to feed you carefully worded lines to twist your mind into siding with him.
With you, it's natural. The same as it is with him.
It’s exactly a week later. Another capture the flag day created a certain buzz that flowed throughout camp. 
Earlier this morning, Luke was concerned about winning. That was before he found himself in a similar position as he did weeks ago. 
Standing next to you in a clearing, no other campers around to witness something that will certainly be a sight to behold. 
Just like before, you’re standing over a camper with your sword raised over his frightened frame. He’s pleading, but his words are useless. They fall to deaf ears. 
“No maiming!” He exclaims. “It’s the rules, remember?” His words are spoken with a stutter, the tremor in his voice extremely obvious. 
Briefly, Luke looks over to you only to find you already looking at him. 
You’re waiting, body tense, ready to attack. All you need is the command. 
“Do it.” 
There’s a rip and a scream, and Luke’s eyes don’t leave your frame. 
He watches the splatter of blood meet your cheek and for once, Luke doesn’t reach over to wipe it away. He leaves it there, leaving the evidence behind as he cups your face delicately, spreading his fingers to miss the crimson, and then using his hold to pull you close and press his lips to yours. 
Easily, quickly, you submit to him. 
You two haven’t shared things in the most intimate form, not yet at least, but he doesn’t need that with you. Looking in your eyes, seeing that same look that he sees in himself, Luke knows that having your legs spread around his hips with euphoria isn’t the most necessary thing in the world. He would love for it to happen, and he will revel in it when it does happen, but he knows that fucking you isn’t needed to guarantee your loyalty to him. 
As you submit to him, smelling of musk derived from hard work, the evidence of your effort on your face, Luke knows that he’s already secured it. 
He has your loyalty. 
And he can’t shake the excitement he feels towards your potential. Because he knows that the fire blazing deep inside of you can’t be contained for much longer. 
He just hopes your internal fire continues to work in his favor and never against it.
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simpxxstan · 2 months
Text
Nobody Else (part 1)
pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader
genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), mild angst
summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?
chapter word count: 13k
warnings: honestly, way too much smut. cockwarming, oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, orgasm denial, gagging, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, public sex (i don't even know if it's feasible, please suspend your beliefs about reality while reading aah), unprotected sex (please do not do this irl), breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart for female), usage of word slut (for female), usage of sir and daddy (for male), sir kink, daddy kink, office sex, use of profanities, lots of bickering. let me know if i missed something out!
a/n: and we're back. (or are we?) honestly, i write when i get the time. and i don't know when i'll get my schedule to clear up again </3 hopefully within a few months my life will be back on track.
hope you enjoy this!!! posting this in two parts because it's way too long otherwise. do leave your thoughts, i swear reading them makes me so happy. open to hearing criticism too so pls my inbox is right there for you to rant. have a nice day!
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You’ve known Jeon Wonwoo since the age of eleven, but you’d never thought you’d end up like this. Being in the same social circles as you and your family, the young Jeon heir had never really been your friend. However, that did not mean you didn’t meet him. In fact, you met him quite often. He went to the same school as you, he was always there at the parties you went to, and everyone around you kept talking about him. No matter what the season or the age, everyone was infatuated with Jeon Wonwoo. 
Objectively speaking, no. 
Subjectively speaking, not at all. 
You could never understand why one would find a man with no beauties to his personality, nothing to his merit except a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and those never-changing black clothes, attractive. Apart from that, he never exchanged a friendly conversation with you. Never a moment of warmth. And you reciprocated the feeling absolutely. You had no desire to seek his favour. He simply never left the periphery of your life, and it annoyed you. But not enough to bother you. You’d grown used to the sight of the tall boy, who never spoke to anyone except his tight-knit group of absolute losers. And he should have remained in your periphery, never in your focus. You wanted nothing to do with the cold, arrogant nerd. 
So naturally, you’d never, in your wildest imaginations, thought that you’d be here, sucking his dick off under his desk while he engaged himself in a meeting on his desktop. You had been in that position for hours, your mouth lolling over the wetness surrounding his penis, both from your saliva and the slow trickle of his pre-cum. While he has switched from meeting to meeting, both with corporates in Korea and internationally, his suit impeccable and the glasses sitting neatly on his nose, you’d cockwarmed him. That would’ve still been fine, had you not enjoyed it so thoroughly that it had become a routine for you both over the months. 
After a solid two hours (and a few more minutes), he’d allowed himself to push back the chair a bit, pull his pants down further, spread his legs wide enough to meet the annoying temptation that had been bugging him for so long, and thread his hands into your hair, indicating you to step out of the haze you’d fallen into and get on with the job. And oh boy, you’d obeyed. At this point, it was a reflex for you. Feeling the way his hands caved your jaws and neck, you leaned into his touch, all while keeping your eyes on the little twitches he made on his face. Perhaps it was his need to be dominant, or perhaps it was just his arrogance, but he never slipped during sex. Even when you were giving him the most mind-blowing blowjob, like right now, using techniques you’d picked up over time, slipping your tongue under his cock to feel his veins throb around your tongue, gently nipping the foreskin to make the red tip burn harder, and taking him into your throat completely without a moment of a gag reflex. He’d never show you how much he liked it, never praised you, never revealed that he wanted it as much as you did. 
It was all a part of the act, you knew that. 
It was designed to make you more eager to perform well, more eager to earn his praise, more eager to put your all into this. 
Jeon Wonwoo, with his signature cold stares and the arrogant tilt of his smirk, would break you every time, and you’d come back for it, again and again, addicted mindlessly, like a drug. 
Eventually, his cum would flow down your throat, and you’d feel his body relax against yours, as he let you lay your head on his thighs for a few moments to recuperate. 
But never enough. 
“Up, sweetheart. I thought you had a party to attend.”
He helps you stand up, smirking at the pool of your cum on the floor where you’d been sitting, with the bullet vibrator parked deep into your pussy, which had given you endless orgasms and sent you into heaven, all while you’d felt the weight of Wonwoo’s warmth on your tongue. 
His words bring you back to reality, as you limp towards the washroom to clean yourself, slowly breaking your daze. “I do. When are you going to change?”
“I don’t want to. I’ll look good even if I don’t doll up.” With a snicker he goes back to his desktop, and you roll your eyes at the implication of his words.
“I still don’t understand why you’d ask them to deliver the dress here.”
“It is pretty late. Imagine if I’d have to go back home, change, and then leave for the venue. Too much hassle. I would have to leave an hour back. Your place is much closer to the venue.”
“And so you chose to make my bedroom your vanity room?
From Wonwoo’s vantage point in the study, he has a direct view into the master bedroom, where you’re settling yourself into a fresh pair of lingerie and the jumpsuit, which had been designed exclusively for you, for this occasion. The jumpsuit was perfect, made to look professional and yet classy, just as the event demanded, and in midnight blue, your favourite shade. You smiled while wearing it, your secretary had truly learnt your style well and ordered the perfect outfit for you. 
“I’ll be out in ten.” You can feel his eyes on your figure, even from the distance.
You’re too engrossed in fixing the zip on your back to notice Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixated on you. 
“Do you need help?”
You give him a look. There’s that semi-permanent smirk lingering on his face, he knows he’s pushing your buttons. Outside of sex, you would never ask for help. In fact, you wouldn’t ask Wonwoo for anything. What could he do for you that you couldn’t do yourself? 
He doesn’t say anything else, he quietly steps in and takes grip of the zip. After pulling it up, he doesn’t say a word, carefully watching you wear your scanty makeup. It could be a little creepy, but you surprisingly don’t mind. Or perhaps you just don’t care. 
“Ah fuck. I forgot to bring the lip gloss.”
“But you just wore lipstick?”
“No,” you turn around and outside of Wonwoo’s periphery. Slipping your feet into your heels and putting on the earrings that had also been sent by your secretary, you told him, “The lip-plumping one. It makes my lips look nice. Well, nicer. They’re already quite pretty, as I’ve been told.” You hear Wonwoo scoff behind you, and you turn around to face him. 
“Well, how do I look?”
His hands are in his pockets, his shirt buttons are halfway opened and his hair is messy, but he still looks better than you do after all this effort. 
“They’ll love you.”
You smile. That’s more than enough feedback from Jeon Wonwoo. He doesn’t have to praise you outside sex if he can’t do it while fucking.
“They always do.”
_
And they do. The photographers, the journalists, the social elites, the ministers, their wives, their mistresses, the chaebols, their heirs, and their bastards. Everyone loves you. How could they not? You’re perfect in every way possible. At twenty six, you’re at the height of your life- young, charming and intelligent, everybody wants you. Ever since you took your father’s already prospering business to new heights four years ago, straight out of grad school, by introducing Korea to the world of AI like they’d never seen before. The industry had not just been disrupted by your introduction of AI to the field of healthcare and diagnosis, but also awed by the sheer magnanimity of your creations. You hadn’t spent years perfecting your ideas in vain. 
Everyone wants a little bit of your time, a little word with you, slipping in a plea and a pickup line in the same tone, and you love the attention they throw at you. Honestly, this is where you were born to be. The spotlight is where you deserve to belong. 
But eventually, the crowd dissipates, leaving you walking towards the bar looking for a martini, arm looped into the arm of your sister. “Y/N-ah, I tell you, let’s go to Jeju this weekend! The weather is perfect now- not too hot, not too cold. The forecast also recommends visiting now!” She tugs at your arm playfully, and you smile fondly. She knows your answer, but she never stops trying. “And what about your husband?” “I need a break from him, please. He’s getting on my nerves!” “Darling, it’s your hormones.” She slaps your wrist. “No! Stop saying that. Kyungmin says the exact same thing, in the exact same tone! It’s so annoying. Stop ganging up against me! Anyway it’s not my fault I’m pregnant. The least he can do is take care of me. If he can’t take care of me now, how is he going to be trained to become a father? Huh? How will he take care of our daught-” “You don’t even know that.” “I do. I have a feeling.” “You can just say you want a girl, you know. There’s nothing called ‘a feeling’.” “Damn it. Just because you have a trash sixth sense doesn’t mean you can dismiss mine, my intuition never goes wrong!” 
And you’ve reached the bar, and the bartender serves you your drinks- just a virgin mojito for your sister though. “The canapes are great.” “Hmm… But I’m craving oranges! That’s why we should go to Jeju, yah!” “Unnie, you’ve gotta stop. Don’t excite yourself more than you need to. Do you want orange juice?” “No, eww. Not this artificial flavour.” “If you really want to go to Jeju, take Kyungmin Oppa and go. Don’t ask for me- I’ll never be able to keep up with your tantrums.” “Hmm. That is true. Now that you mention him, I suddenly miss him. For all my complaints, I still love him though-” You giggle at the sudden sappy tone of your sister, tuning out parts of her endless chatter, while your eyes search for someone in the crowds. 
Jeon Wonwoo stands out, so he’s easy to find. 
He’s wearing the same suit he’d worn earlier, not changed like he had told you. He looks tired and yet, good. Before you realise it, he’s looking back at you, and walking towards where the two of you are standing. 
“Oh! Wonwoo-yah! How have you been?” Your sister asks, ever friendly. She’s the only one in the family who doesn’t show that the Jeon and Y/L/N families are rivals in business and hence, avoid speaking to each other. That norm wasn’t broken by you. To be fair, even the nights you spent together had very little conversation. No orgasm-induced dopamine could break through the wall of your egos to encourage you to be friendly with each other. Hell, outside of the bedroom, Wonwoo isn’t even attractive enough to catch your eye. 
“Hmm, I’m good, Noona. I see your baby is growing fast. How many weeks left?” His tone is courteous, formal, and sweet. Makes you want to laugh at how different he sounds from the usual voice you hear him speak in. 
“About eleven weeks to go. This trimester has been killing me, I swear. I’ve told Kyungmin I don’t want any more kids. Ever. I don’t think I can go through this again, and I haven’t even gotten to the pain of delivery yet. I don’t even know if I can go back to skating after this.”
You scoff. “As if. First get over your never-ending honeymoon period. Then talk about not having any more kids.”
“I support Y/N here. The company will need an heir, and I don’t see anyone else providing any.” 
You sigh. There he goes. You roll your eyes at him, “An heir doesn’t have to be through blood relation. Merit exists. But then how can I explain this to someone whose existence is owed to nepotism.” 
“Rich of you to say so.”
You take a step closer to Wonwoo, too riled up by the calm way he’s speaking. “I’ve built my world from the ground. From level zero. I haven’t just sat on a throne that was presented to me.” 
“Forever the brat, huh? Running your mouth even in public, begging me to shut it?” You notice that Wonwoo has also come closer to you, and you can smell the cologne off him. He’s a solid four inches taller than you, even when you’re wearing heels. But you stare right back into his eyes, yours angry and his cold and superior, as usual. You wonder for the n-th time if his blood even runs warm. You’re tempted to retort back, disgusted by the below-the-belt remark, going off-topic, but your sister’s gently pulling your arm, reminding you that you’re in public. “Back off. Don’t make a scene, guys. Let’s not ruin the evening?” She puts on her best smile to calm you down, and you step away, seething in vain. Wonwoo’s smirk never leaves his face as you two bow and walk away. The way he’s looking at you reminds you of other memories. 
You suddenly wonder if your sister had heard the comment or not. Considering her though, probably not. Thank god it was her and not someone else. 
_
The rest of the party flows seamlessly. You’re spiralling slightly in your head though- overthinking can’t be avoided. The way Wonwoo was successful in riling you up has shocked you, to say the least. There have been a thousand such instances, but you don’t remember losing your temper to this extent in any of the situations. But somehow, Wonwoo talking about you not being interested to have children vexed you so much? It just didn’t add up. 
It’s the first time you’re doubting your current situation. You’d been absolutely convinced that settlement between the two of you was more to your benefit than his. It wasn’t like you had a dearth of men wanting to fuck you. It was quite the opposite. But a few scandals and rumours had taught you that keeping your private life discreet was the optimal choice. Especially if you were a woman and people simply assumed you’d sucked someone’s dick to get ahead in life. 
But the arrangement with Wonwoo was so perfect. He wanted discretion, so did you. He didn’t want to get involved with a random hookup who could get pregnant, you didn’t want a random hookup to get you pregnant. He wanted someone to match his wavelength, and you needed a vent for your stress. Now that you consider the drastic improvement in your energy and efforts, in retrospection, becoming Jeon Wonwoo’s submissive had been the best decision of your life. 
_
It had begun quite suddenly. At your sister’s engagement party. Everyone was delighted with the new couple, especially you. Your sister had never shown any desire to join the company, satisfied with following her passion of ice skating. And now she was getting married to her boyfriend of five years, the love of her life, and everyone was left fondly jealous of the pure happiness on her face, even you.
Perhaps it was because of this jealousy that you’d decided to flirt with Wonwoo at the after-party. Against your better judgement, you’d drifted towards him by the end of the night, until your knees were touching on the barstools, and he was leaning back looking over your figure again and again. I was wondering which spot would be ideal for me to bite first- your collarbones, your cleavage, your thighs or your belly button, he would tell you later. God knows why you’d suddenly decided to find him attractive after fifteen years of knowing each other, but that was it. You’d ended up in a hotel bed that night, fucked until tears ran down your cheeks, begging him to go harder and faster whenever he slowed down to look at the mascara dripping down your face, leaving hickeys all over the soft skin of your breasts, not letting you rest of a second of the night, going at it till dawn. 
“Wonwoo… I can’t…” you’d begged, your words muffled through your panties stuffed into your own mouth, the overstimulation hitting you hard as you squirmed against his tongue fucking his cum back into your pussy. “You can, sweetheart, give me another one… hmm? Do you want to be a good girl?” 
And you had let loose. Given yourself up to him, to make or break you, as he wanted, and then put you together one by one as the sun rose up in the sky as you’d drifted to sleep. The next afternoon, you’d woken up feeling like a new person, and decided it was the best night of your life. The man in question was nowhere to be seen, but you didn’t care. The bliss ran too deep. 
Sadly, not deep enough. The overthinking kicked in a few hours later, and you cussed yourself for becoming so easy for an undeserving man like Wonwoo. Just because he’d made you cum and given you a good time didn’t mean you’d go against your rational thoughts. In a way, he was no better than your best dildo. Except you liked your dildo. You simply did not like Jeon Wonwoo. The arrogant brat had been the type of man you’d avoided all of your life. You hadn’t seen him work hard in school, and now that he had inherited his father’s company, you didn’t see him work any harder either. Sure, Jeon Estates was doing better than ever, but that was only because the economy was booming and the housing market was doing well. He had done nothing extra. Unlike you, who had built your world yourself. You’d never taken your father’s prosperity as complacency, and strived to make a name for yourself. And now people knew of Y/L/N Corporation as synonymous to both your father’s name and your name. 
And you had, like a silly stupid girl, gone and slept with this very man. 
And you had liked it. 
That was the worst bit. An accidental hookup would have been fine. But no, you wanted to sleep with him every night, if it meant he’d treat you to the same feast you’d blissed out on last night. There was a certain happiness in giving up to him, letting go of the constant worries that burdened you down, and allowing him to take control, but god knows how you ended up trusting him so much in bed.
Anyway, you reconciled with yourself, it’s just a one-time thing. It’s not like it’s going to happen again. 
You were wrong. Jeon Wonwoo had picked you up that evening and taken you directly to his house. 
“What did you want to talk about that you couldn’t do in your car?”
“The chauffeur was there.” 
“It’s not a big deal, Jeon. You can just say that you regret last night, cause honestly, same. Don’t want to dwell on it.” You were in a rush to leave, because you didn’t want to think about the memories in this same house the night ago. 
“Are you sure?”
His question had taken you aback, as he watched you with his hawk eyes, licking his lips.
“Y/N, I … couldn’t tell you in my car that I didn’t regret it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
You’re speechless, waiting for him to continue, as he took another step forward. 
“Wonwoo, I… you know this is a bad idea.”
“I do,” he chuckles darkly. “You look like a bad idea, as I’ve known for years now. But when I see you wearing that hideous turtleneck to hide the hickeys and that tiny skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, I keep remembering the way you submitted to me last night. For all your big talk and your attitude, you obey pretty easily, huh?”
You stand up, indignant. “Wonwoo, you can’t use that against me. Listen I know we’re not friends-”
“Be my submissive. I want, no fuck, I need you. You’re perfect.” He’s standing an inch away from you, bending his neck gently to look into your eyes. His mask slips for a second. A million emotions flit through your brain, and you’re deliriously begging for your intelligence to kick in, but there’s something about the subtly layered desperation in Wonwoo’s voice that makes you curious. 
“What are your terms?”
_
You look at Wonwoo across the dining table. He looks as put-together as ever, not a hair out of place, as he converses with the middle aged-men sitting next to him while eating dinner. He quickly notes your glance and looks back, and you turn your eyes away before he catches the blush along your cheeks. 
No, there’s nothing wrong with the arrangement. It works perfectly in your favour. As long as nobody knows. 
_
You’re wrapping up a meeting with the board members of the company, when you get a call on your phone. It’s Wonwoo. Excusing yourself from the meeting, you pick up the call while walking back to your office.
“Hello?”
“Are you going to the Paris Conclave?”
The invitation for the event had arrived just that evening, the first time they were inviting your company. It had made you gush with excitement, happy that you’d been able to take your company to this prestigious conclave. Moreover, this would be the first time you’d be visiting Paris, one of the few dream destinations of your life. Due to a packed professional schedule, you had hardly been able to travel for the past few years, and the thought of going to Paris made you naturally happy.
“Yes, of course. Getting fomo? I can get a croissant back home for you.”
“I can get my own. See you there.”
He cuts the call. 
What was that? He’s going to the conclave as well? That’s impossible. Jeon Estates had never been invited before this-
“Jisung-ah.” You call for your secretary, who appears at your side quickly. “Has the Jeon Estates been invited to the conclave?” 
“Ma’am, I- why, yes. I hadn’t checked the list for their name.” His voice drops as he speaks, mirroring the disappointment rising in you too. So, it wasn’t only you who had been invited for the first time. 
Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. Even had to call you to rub it in, the nerve. 
“Well, we’ll just have to outshine them there. I’m sure we shall. Please organise a meeting with the team leaders and managers today so that we can get the presentations perfected.”
Your secretary bows to you and leaves you alone in your office. 
_
Paris comes sooner than you had thought, and you’re bursting with excitement. Nervousness too, a little bit. But your confidence isn’t so easy to rattle. You’ve picked out your choicest outfits for the trip, hellbent on making it memorable. You’ve even kept a few days extra in hand to allow you free time to travel the city. 
You had asked your sister if she’d wanted to come along, but she had said that her doctor hadn’t deemed it safe for her to travel by airplane now. “I’m so jealous! But there’s nothing to be done.” “Go with your husband and your baby afterwards.” You’d kissed her forehead when bidding the final goodbyes before leaving for Paris.
There was just one little worry worming through your brain. Not even a worry, just an irk. Jeon Wonwoo would also be there. You’d have to compete again for the spotlight. As if the jerk deserved to be there. 
“Ma’am, do you want to go through your speech once more?” Jisung asked you from the seat next to you. You smiled, the younger man was definitely nervous by the look on his face. “Why, are you scared I’ll forget? You know I take vitamins every day to strengthen my memory.” “I do, but-” “Don’t worry. Don’t let anxiety deter you from forming the memories of the fun times you’ll be enjoying there!”
Fun. 
As if. Jisung knew well enough that you rarely had time for fun, and consequently, neither did he. He saw you overwork yourself every day, staying at the office till late, obsessed with perfection, ensuring no loose ends were visible. Even if you tried your best to send him home when his work time ended, he wanted to stay back out of compassion for you. He was truly the best secretary you could’ve asked for. He was godsent- he’d learnt your habits and your thinking process within days, and soon he produced documents and answers before you asked for them, pre-empting your thoughts. After working with you for three years, he was good enough to be your clone- that’s why you sent him to many events and meetings as your representative if you couldn’t make it. You knew he’d handle it as well as you would, and report all the key details to you at the end of the day. 
“Yes, Ma’am. I hope it all passes well. We’ve all worked hard.”
“And hard work always pays off, you know that Jisung-ah. Now, sleep quickly so that we’re not tired due to jet lag once we land there.”
_
They’ve assigned Wonwoo a seat next to you at the conference table. As if seeing his face here wasn’t bad enough. 
“Will you never leave me alone?” 
He scoffs, “Me? You’ve been at my tail since you were a kid.”
“Oh shut up. Inside school, outside school, at parties, at funerals, at my graduation, at my sister’s wedding, you’re always fucking there. And now you’re here, to steal the spotlight. Not that you can anyway. Don’t try too hard Jeon, you’ll just look pathetic.”
“It’s funny how vain you are. You think I have any desire to steal your spotlight? Go ahead, be the talk of the party, by all means.”
“And I will! I don’t need your permission for it.”
“Hmm-”
The rest of his words get tuned out as the convenor of the conference begins their speech. You turn your eyes towards them, but you can feel Wonwoo’s eyes burning on you. 
“What did you say?” You whisper to him. 
“Never mind. Do you want to go out tonight?”
“Go out?” You turn your head towards him, leaning in, incredulous. 
“For dinner.” 
You almost burst out laughing. “And pray, why would I go with you?”
He scrunches his nose and pushes up his glasses. “You’re going to miss out on seeing the Eiffel Tower?”
“No. In fact, I have plans on going today myself. But you didn’t tell me why I’d-”
“Come with me.” He turns his face away from you, his expression cold and unreadable. 
“Hell nah. We don’t know each other, okay? Just because we’re both newcomers here does not mean we have to maintain solidarity or any of that shit.”
“You’ll regret it, sweetie.”
“I regret nothing.”
“We’ll see.”
_
“Jisung-ah! You were scared for nothing. That presentation was flawless.”
“Yes Ma’am. I know our team always works hard, but the nerves never stop,” the young man looks much fresher after the conference wraps up for the day, his tie undone slightly. You can easily understand how his mood changes reflect in his facial expressions and attitude after the long hours you spend with each other on a daily basis. 
“Are you still up for going to the Eiffel Tower tonight? I’m planning on skipping the post-conference dinner. But if you want to stay, I won’t force you to come with me.” 
“No Ma’am, I was thinking…” he hesitates, but you raise your eyebrows to urge him to continue. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to visit the Eiffel Tower again, so I do want to go with you … but after that I’d like to go to one of the clubs in the nightlife zones? I’ve heard from friends that the Paris nightlife is crazy.”
“Ooh!” You pat him on the back, “Yes please Jisung, finally you’ve started to act your age. Go, be young and wild, I’ll cheer for you!”
“You won’t come along?”
“Oh no. I’m way too old for that. Plus I never was into the club scene. And for real, you should go out and enjoy without me sometimes. People will start thinking I’m your girlfriend.”
Jisung opens his mouth to say something, but ends up just smiling shyly. “Okay Ma’am. Then should we leave for the Eiffel at 7 pm?”
“Yes. Pick me up from my suite then.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
_
“Sorry Ma’am, the Eiffel Tower has been booked out for the evening. It’s been a really sudden booking, and we’re sorry for the inconvenience, but it’s just been booked out completely by a private party and no external visitors are allowed.”
You’re wearing your best white silk Gucci dress, the one you spent your entire salary on as soon as it was released at last year’s Fashion week, and a stunning Cartier necklace, ready to spend the best evening of your life atop the Eiffel Tower, savouring life at its finest… but no. Some jerk just had to book it for this evening. 
You slide up to the lady at the front desk, whose bored expression does nothing to calm your nerves down. Jisung has tried his level best to convince her, but it’s failed. So you try the one thing you know always works. 
“Ruth-” you see her name from her name tag pinned on her chest. “I can outbid the private party.” 
“I’m sorry Ma’am, I didn’t get you.”
You laugh, a careful measured laugh, to hide your irritation at having to say it again. “I said, I can pay you more than whatever the private party’s booked it at. I just want ten minutes. Isn’t it a win-win situation for all of us? Ten minutes for me, and your private client can enjoy it for the rest of the night.”
Ruth smiles, pitifully. Wretched woman, she’s clearly not affected by your offer. This is what seeing too many rich people in a day does to a person, it immunes them to bribe, you think. Well, it’s her loss. 
“I’m sorry Ma’am, but we really cannot accept your offer. It’s against our rules-” 
“Let me speak to your manager, Ruth. Trust me, when they hear my name, they’ll let me in,” you smile again, attempting to remain amicable instead of bursting out into the wildest Korean slang.
Ruth smiles again, “You are, currently, speaking to the Manager here, Ma’am. We simply cannot allow any external visitors tonight. Can we book a slot for you tomorrow? If you’d like to visit again, in the morning or later.”
Jisung tries to interject, but he sounds resigned. He seems intimidated by Ruth, and frankly speaking, you get it. He’s just twenty four and spends over thirteen hours in a day with you, so he’s not used to snarky women. Well, apart from you, and you’re never snarky to him.
“Ruth, my dear. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here at the Paris Conclave.” You say your name solemnly, expecting it to have the same effect it has in Korea, but alas, the woman remains untouched as ever. “I’m dreadfully sorry Ma’am- wait, did you say Y/N Y/L/N?” Your smile becomes wider. Oh so it does have the intended effect. “So you finally will let me in, huh? You do know who I am.” 
Suddenly Ruth’s demeanour changes and she’s smiling pleasantly. “Oh Ma’am, the private client has specially informed us to allow you in. Only you.” “I’m sorry, what? Why would they suddenly ask for me-” “Mr. Jeon told us that you would be here. I’m so sorry for the miscommunication, Ms. Y/L/N-”
“Mr. Jeon?!” You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you bitch. Aloud you say, “Mr. Wonwoo Jeon?” “Yes Ma’am. He’s booked the entire place for the evening. He has been waiting for you too,” Ruth smiles graciously, doing nothing to relieve your confusion. “There has been a mistake. I don’t think he meant me. We’ll leave now-” “Ma’am, I’m sure there’s no confusion now. Mr. Jeon asked us to bring you up as soon as you arrived. We’re sorry to keep you standing here on your date night.” “Date night? This is ridiculous. Wonwoo and I are not-” Jisung whispers into your ears right at moment, noticing your bloodshot wide eyes, “Ma’am, I think there’s no point fighting with them on this,” he says in Korean. “This lady seems adamant, and you shouldn’t miss out on an opportunity to visit the Eiffel Tower when it’s lit up so prettily. Even if it is with Mr. Jeon,” you wince at his suggestion, and he smiles apologetically. He’s right, you realise. 
“Okay, but Jisung comes with me.”
“I’m sorry Ma’am.” Oh I’ve had enough of your sorries. “No one except you are to be allowed up.” 
“Wow. First you say no external visitors. Now suddenly I’m allowed and Jisung is not-”
“Ms. Y/L/N, these are simply instructions from my client.” 
Jisung bites his lip and says, “Well I guess it’s not written in my fate then. Ma’am, don’t miss out on my account. Please enjoy. I’ll just go downtown and waste the night away. I’ll see you tomorrow then? Please make sure to eat dinner!” You’re seconds away from whining and pulling another tantrum, but Jisung whispers fighting to you in his soft indulgent tone that he uses on you whenever you’re being a brat and he needs to take care of you. And then he’s gone, and you have no option but to face Ruth. That bloody woman. “Welcome to the Eiffel Tower, Ma’am. Please accompany me as we take you to the top.”
_
At the top, Jeon Wonwoo stands with a glass of champagne in his left hand and his mobile phone in his right. 
“If you’re going to work on your phone and not enjoy the view, why the fuck did you book this place out?”
You walk towards the man standing in the open air viewing area, and he smiles at you. The annoyingly handsome smile, where his eyes crinkle up, and his perfectly white teeth are revealed in a rare display. 
“You came. I knew you’d come.”
“How so?” A server appears from nowhere and offers you champagne too, which you accept. You’ll soon switch to whisky though, to calm your nerves down. 
“You’re easily predictable. You act like any other average tourist, although you pretend to be such a princess.” 
“Everyone comes to visit Eiffel Tower on their first day in Paris, Wonwoo, there’s nothing weird about this-”
“Exactly. Average. Me? I personally prefer to see it from the window of my hotel, so that I can see it in its glory without experiencing this slight dizziness and bling of the night view.”
“You’re stupid. That’s why you have such stupid preferences. This night view? Priceless.” 
“Let me inform you, darling, it cost me a hell lot to book this. So not priceless.”
You laugh, looking at Wonwoo, who’s leaning against the railing facing you, and then back at the gorgeous night view. The Champs Elysees looks glorious with the lights. You can sense Wonwoo leaning in closer. His cologne and perfume mix to create a dark, musky smell that’s new. You’ve never smelled this on him before. “Why did you book it? That’s what I've been asking since forever.” 
“I want to fuck you against this railing.” 
You choke on the champagne, before catching your breath and turning back to face him. 
“What?”
“You heard me the first time.” He maintains eye contact, but in that cold, nonchalant way of his, like he didn’t just propose the most scandalous thing you’ve ever heard. 
“Aren’t there cameras?”
“Will pay for them to be turned off.”
“That’s probably illegal.”
“I don’t care. I’ll pay enough. Plus, I’ve already located the blind spots.”
You take a deep breath. As ashamed as you are to admit this, it does turn you on. A lot. If Wonwoo would touch you under your dress, he’d find evidence of the same. Sex like this- in public, definitely the most outrageous thing you’ve done. But Wonwoo suggesting it? The fact that he booked this place out on a probability that you’d come and a hope that you’d agree to it? The more you think about it, the hotter your body feels. You can feel your nipples straining against your dress in the cold air, and your face turning red with imagination. 
“If you don’t want it, we can just eat dinner and leave.” Wonwoo’s eyes have become impossibly  gentler but also darker, like he’s seconds away from losing his control. His sight betrays his words as he keeps looking at your lips. Thank god I applied the lip plumper tonight, you think. But then his eyes go to your breasts, like the pervert he is, and he smirks at the sight of the two nubs pressing hard against the soft silk. 
You shake your head.
“Say it.”
“I want it too.”
“Atta girl,” his smirk widens, before he leans in to capture your lips. It’s a rough kiss, nothing romantic like one would expect atop the Eiffel Tower, but it sets the right mood for the night. You realise that all servers have disappeared, and you’re perfectly alone, as his lips move down towards your neck, leaving beautiful hickeys along the way. “It was torture and heaven waiting for you. Knowing you’d come, but fearing you wouldn’t.” His hands take away your champagne glasses and place them on a table nearby, before bending you backwards on the railing, making your head zoom more with pleasure. What if I fall off? What if someone catches us like this? What if he takes a picture of me like this in front of the view, with my tits out and my lipstick ruined?
“No bra, huh? You’re so sexy in this dress, I want to fuck you in it. You mind that?” You’re panting as he keeps kissing you in between his words, tongue dominating yours right away. It’s like a switch flipped inside you. Just minutes ago, you were so against sharing the Eiffel Tower view with Wonwoo, and now you’re letting him fuck you here. It drives you crazy.
“Wonwoo just- I don’t care, I need you now.” He bites all over your shoulder, slipping down the straps to grope your breasts in the rough-handed manner you like, sure to leave bruises with the way he kneads them while leaving open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone.
“Just because we’re out in the open doesn’t mean you forget your bedroom manners.” He bites down on your nipple, surely missing his favourite clamps back home, and you squirm in his iron grip. 
“Sir please!” 
“That’s better, sweetheart. But what do you want?”
“C-Co-” he alternates his bites with little kitten licks, looking up at you. “Articulation, baby. Speak up.” “Want your cock, in my m- mouth, Sir!” He pulls away from you, leaving the cold air to tease your bruised nipples, and laughs. Fucking laughs, but it turns you on again. “If you insist.”
He takes off his belt and ties your hands behind your back, and then pushes your shoulder down and you fall to your knees, and he stands back, tall. “Oh, what a pretty sight,” he sighs, taking in the night sky view, and then looks down at you, but makes no move to open his pants. You assume you’ll have to take care of it yourself, so you attempt to open the zipper with your teeth. It’s not particularly difficult, but in the process you get some drool over Wonwoo’s cock over his pants. “Tch. Dirty girl, drooling everywhere,” he wipes away the drool from the edge of your lips, before you slot your mouth against his erection, now free from his underwear and pants which have slid down his legs. It’s not as hard as it gets during sex, but that’s what you’re here for. Nothing but a slut for him to use. Your ankles burn against your heels in this position, but it’s okay. You’re losing your mind as you swallow his sheath inch-by-inch, until you feel his skin against your nose, and you stay like that for a second, easing out your gag reflex. But before you can move, Wonwoo thrusts deep into your throat, eyes not leaving yours. It makes you roll your eyes, the pleasure of the surprise way more than the pain, and makes you crave for more. He slowly wraps his hands around your head, a strong broad support for you to rest in, and continues to ram his dick inside your mouth. Your body becomes limp as you slowly surrender to his actions, your mind blank, except a crazy wanton desire to please him and make him cum. You’re too sex-crazed right now to reason out why only Wonwoo elicits this reaction from you. 
But then his dick gets rock hard, and right when its weight becomes the best and warmest around your throat, wet with saliva and pre-cum, he pulls out. You can’t frame words instantly, but you whine. “Ah, Wo- I- pl- co- please…” He laughs cockily at your state, and you blush with shame at the way you’re acting. “Get up,” he walks away from you, leaving you to your own devices to stand up in those heels. 
It strikes you yet again, just how open this all is. Anyone can walk in. The security guard may be jerking off watching this on the security cameras, and you won’t lie, it’s hot as fuck. The thought of Wonwoo and your activities being porn for someone else- oh fuck. 
Wonwoo sits on a couch meant for visitors on the balcony. “Come baby,” he beckons, and you sit on his lap. His cock is still hard, leaking pre-cum, and you’re tempted to lick it off, but you won’t make a move until he tells you to. You can’t disobey him now- if he spanks you in punishment, you won’t be able to walk to the conference tomorrow.
“Spit on it.” And you do. Wonwoo likes your spit, for some reason, and you wordlessly obey. Then he pulls out something from his pocket, and you realise- “No Sir! Please, not the paddle today!” It’s a folded paddle, the pocket-friendly one you can buy at cheap sex stores. “I need to walk tomorrow, I can’t if you spank me-” “But you’ve been so naughty. Begging for my cock in a public place like the little slut you are. Not accepting my invitation to come up here and making me wait for so long. Turning my offer for dinner down at the conference this morning,” You try to protest, but he simply inserts his thumb into your mouth, and you instinctively start sucking on it. “Now be pretty, and let Sir show you your place.” While you’re still distractedly sucking the thumb, you don’t even realise when he’s lifted the back of your dress and the paddle hits the ass flesh exposed by your thong. “Count.” “One,” you whimper out, not wanting his thumb to slip out of your mouth. The spanks continue, alternating on ass. He can alternate between asses and keep the same pressure just by one hand, the other holding up your dress, his hands big enough to cover your entire ass cheek. The spanks burn more after the moment’s relief due to the cold air, and by the time you reach twenty, your knees have given up, and you’re drooling on Wonwoo’s shoulder. 
“Don’t make a mess. Sit up straight.” As you do so, he asks you, putting away the paddle and tucking your hair behind your ears. “Have you learnt how to behave? Or do you need another reminder?” You fervently shake your head, but he whispers in his insanely sexy tone, “Words.” It makes you shiver, and you respond, “Yes Sir. I’ll not misbehave, Sir.” He smirks, and leans back. “Now ride me like you mean your words, darling.” 
You don’t need another command. You sit down on his dick quickly, ready to take the burn without any prep, because you’re already leaking down your thighs. He grips your hips with one hand, steadying you, and cards his other hand through your hair. As you begin bouncing down on him, he shudders and releases low grunts, but nothing breaks his composure. He never once whispers Good Girl, as you cum once, but you still keep riding him to ensure he reaches his climax. Somewhere after your orgasm, he starts thrusting up from below to meet your efforts, and it brings him closer to his orgasm as he scrunches his nose and closes his eyes. When he does spurt inside you, he whispers softly enough that you almost miss it, “Fucking gorgeous.” 
That’s enough praise for the night, you think to yourself, as you fall limply against his chest, nearly passed out from the strain, his cock still spasming inside of you. He soothes your hair, and you fall asleep.
_
“Ma’am? Ma’am? Please wake up! We’re running late. Ma’am? Ms. Y/L/N?” You open your eyes blearily to see Jisung shaking you lightly. Slowly you come to your senses, and you can hear his voice louder, and see the desperation in his face clearly. 
Fuck. 
What have you done?
“How late am I?” 
“Not too bad, Ma’am,” Jisung scrunches his nose as he looks at the clock on your bedside table. “We have twenty minutes to go.” 
“Fuck!” You scramble out of bed, not even bothering to check if you’re clothed, and make your way to the washroom. There’s a pain growing in your head, and it’s only when you see yourself in the mirror that you realise that you’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts. What even happened last night? The last thing you remember, as you try to recollect while quickly brushing your teeth, washing your hair and hopping into the shower all at the same time, is that you had passed out on Wonwoo’s shoulder. Then the world had gone blank. Fucked into oblivion, truly. He must have brought you into your room. Oh fucking hell, he owed you at least that much.
By the time you wrapped your bathing suit around you and walked back into your bedroom, Jisung was gone, but your outfit and shoes were laid out on the bed and there was a note, I’ll pack some breakfast for you, Ma’am. Please come down directly to the conference hall. Thank god for Jisung, that was one prayer you said everyday. He’d been partying too last night, hadn’t he? And yet, he had responsibly made it on time and woken you up as well. You were getting too irresponsible, too lax. Your discipline was gone and you mentally bashed yourself for it. All because of that stupid Wonwoo.
After that, it doesn’t take much time for you to get dressed. Jisung must’ve noticed the hickeys on your neck, and brought you a jacket with lapels and a collar high enough to hide most of the marks. You quickly tied a scarf around your neck, making it look fashionable by adding colour to the otherwise beige monotone outfit, and praised yourself mentally for looking this good even without makeup. Dabbing on some lip balm in the elevator, you quickly reached the conference hall, finding yourself a minute late. Again, thank god for Jisung, the boy had reserved your seat, made excuses on your behalf and kept a croissant and coffee ready at your seat, so that everyone greeted you with kind smiles. 
Except Wonwoo, who had that unreadable expression again. 
Must be pathetic, living like him. What worth was a face like that if it couldn’t express anything?
_
Four days later, you land in Incheon amidst the wildest of storms the country has faced in the year. You won’t admit it, but you’re glad you travelled in your private jet, where you can close all windows down and wrap yourself up in a blanket burrito to drown out all signs of the storm. You wish storms didn’t exist, and you wish no one would have to see you in this weak state. Not Wonwoo for sure. 
After that first day in Paris, the two of you had barely interacted. Primarily, you were too ashamed to speak to him. How could you smile and talk normally to someone after getting railed by them on the Eiffel Tower, especially when that same someone was annoying as fuck in reality? Sure, eye contact had been made several times, over dinners, over the conference tables, when you’d been on the stage presenting, and when running into each other in the corridor. But words? You possibly couldn’t. It’d be too much for the fragile self-respect you’d been holding on to. 
You really want to avoid him once you’re back in Seoul as well. The workload seems to have tripled in the few days you were away, with endless tiny emergencies and approvals pending to be resolved. You’re again thankful for Jisung, but there’s only so much the poor boy can do. You make it a point to send him home soon after his scheduled timing every day, but you can’t say the same for yourself. 
It’s the fifth night of you eating ramen from a cup noodles pack and sipping on apple juice from a 1 litre tetra pack, that you finally give up on the abstention. It’s a hard decision, but somehow, your overworked brain and sleep-deprived body leads you to one craving, and one craving only. 
Thirty minutes later, Jeon Wonwoo arrives at your office. He’s been to your office only rarely, as you both prefer to meet up outside professional areas, but in the darkness of the empty office, he can easily recognise your brightly-lit room. He’s dressed in formals too, as if he’s just got off work himself, and you think he may be in the same boat as you. But definitely not as much as you- you’re a perfectionist who looks over everything yourself, Wonwoo doesn’t even come close for sure. 
“It’s one of those nights, huh?”
He gently opens the door and walks in. Everything about him seems to be delicate today: perhaps it’s because his shirt is damp from the rain he’s surely walked in, his hair is wet and falling over his eyes, and his tie is gone. His jacket is soon gone too, dropped off on the couch, and he takes off his shoes. They’re leaving slightly muddy footprints, and you wonder if Wonwoo even drove and came or just ran like a peasant. 
“How’s work treating you?”
“Stop wolfing down that ramen, it’s not healthy. Not as bad as you, as I see. I finished up hours ago,” his eyes don’t meet yours, and you know it’s a lie. It’s one of the signs of lying, as you’ve picked up over the years. Wonwoo rarely breaks eye contact while speaking, always honest, and his lie is really odd to you right now. Why would he lie to you about this?
“I was wondering, if…” you stand up from your desk, taking in the figure of the man sitting on your couch now, manspreading and head leaning back. He’s tired, why did he lie about getting off early?
“Come here, princess.” 
That’s all it takes, and you sit on his lap and wait for his lips to meet yours. He indulges you in your wish, and immediately the tension in your body eases out. Along with the stress of work, you’d been even more worried that he’d bring up your last night together, and you’d get too ashamed to remain turned on. But he doesn’t, and you’re glad. You let your lips be bitten by him, but then he soothes over the burns with his tongue. He tastes like candy, and you tell him the same. 
“Hmm, low sugar.” 
Then he picks you up and gently walks over to your desk, holding you in the same bridal pose without even a muscle flinching. With one hand, he clears the laptop sitting atop your desk to the coffee table, and swipes the rest of the clutter on the floor. It would’ve made you angry otherwise, but you’re already entering subzone with the way he’s handling you. Lips still locked on yours, holding you in that pose with just one hand as you hold on to his shoulders for dear life, it’s a crazy show of strength and you’re getting incredibly turned on by it. You let yourself go, giving it up to this person, who seems to be so reliable, so strong, so manly. 
As he lays you down on the desk, he takes off your trousers and underwear in one go, and sits down on the chair you usually sit on. 
“You’re so wet, so dirty. Did you touch yourself after texting me to come over?” Your pussy is at his eye level, and you’re looking down at him, his eyes menacing and beautiful at the same time. His question makes you squirm, as you reply, “Of course not.” Then there’s a slap across your cunt, and you whine. “Manners?” “Of course not, Sir.” “Liar,” he smirks, and dives headfirst into your cunt. 
It’s a treat he rarely gives you. Only when he’s very happy with you- like after you’ve taken thirty spanks, or you’ve eaten dinner with him while having a vibrator stuffed up your cunt, or you’ve let him wash you in the shower (for some reason, Wonwoo likes that a lot. He ties you up to these poles he’s attached in his bathroom, and plays with your body by applying as much oil and soap he wants, making sure not to touch your pussy for hours, denying every release to you even as it builds up just from the oversensitivity of having your nipples and ass played with). 
You wonder why he’s so happy. 
But you can’t care enough, now that his tongue is working so hard against your clit. The sensation makes you lose all rational thought, as you lean back against the desk, mind empty, and just moaning his name. You remember the first few times he’d fucked you with your mouth gagged, but then he’d told you he likes your sounds way too much, so you’d stopped controlling them too. He gets what he wants. After all, only he can fuck you so well. 
“Wonwoo, please-” He moves his head up, licking his lips which are glistening with your slick. “How do you address me baby?” “S-sorry! Sir, please I-” “Hmm?” He leans back in, humming against your clit. His tongue now moves to your hole, nose brushing against your clit. “Can I come? Like this? May I? Please?” When he moves away again for breath, he removes his hands from your thighs, and you see the red marks he’s left there just by how tight he was gripping them. It’s a wild sight, and your climax hits you right then, coming before he could answer. “So impatient, coming all over my face even when I’ve told you not to come without my permission.” But even his scolding sounds gentle tonight, softly chiding rather than his usual harsh coldness. In your post-orgasm clarity, you wonder again what’s gotten into him. 
He licks away your cum, and it makes you burn with overstimulation. “Uhhhhh, please-please Sir!” “Stay still.” His hands are back at your thighs, spreading them apart, and he seems hellbent on getting another orgasm from you. Your screams are louder this time, and you’re growing even more desperate to get something bigger to fill you up. You wrap your hands in his hair, and tug unconsciously while he keeps licking at your pussy. His entire face is hazy with your slick, thank god he’d taken off his glasses earlier, but he doesn’t care. He keeps diving in. 
“Sir, please, I’m going- uhhhh,” he pulls away instantly and smacks your cunt hard. “No coming until I allow you to. Let Sir have his treat.” “Please Sir I’ll be so good, I promise, I- please let me, just this once.” Another smack, and you’re screaming. Thank heavens the office is empty. 
“Do you not understand my words? Should I retrain you?”
“No! I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.” 
“Hmm, you better be,” and this time he doesn’t just lick your pussy, but also starts entering two fingers alongside his tongue, hitting your g-spot almost instantly. You’re whining yet again, losing your breath, but everytime you’re about to come, he pulls away. You can’t figure out how he realises, but soon two hours pass by, and you’re still being edged. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t think straight. You just want more of his fingers, you want his cock, inside your mouth, your cunt, hell, you just want to orgasm once. 
“Girl, stop moving. You’re so filthy, dripping like this. What would your boytoy think if he saw you like this? Should I call him to clean this mess on your desk?” He’s curling his finger inside you, and it’s really hard forming words when you’re seeing stars like this. 
“Sir, I-” “What’s his name? Jieun?” “Ji- Jisung. Aaah, please-” “Look at you begging. So pathetic. No wonder your secretary is so pathetic. He really likes you, you know?” Your eyes go wide, trying to register his words. “Why- why are you- how do you–” “Hush. I want to know, is he jerking off to you now? Thinking of how slutty you looked in those grey trousers, how perfect your ass looked? Bet you show off in front of him on purpose.” You’re squirming harder, not wanting to think about Jisung right now. “But- but daddy, I on- only want you!”
He laughs, then he leans in to whisper into your ear, “Daddy? That’s a first. Say it again.” 
“Daddy, please! I only want your cock.” 
“Really? So demanding, like a wife. But you’re just a slut. You’d do this to Jisung as well, won’t you?” “No! I swear- please. Daddy, just, it’s just you.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, I swear!” You nod feverishly, the sensation building up inside you again.
“Okay baby girl. Come for me. Come for daddy. Then I’ll take you home and fuck you good. This desk is too small.” You don’t need to be told twice. You gush all over his hands and some of your come ends up on your desk and his pants too, but he only chuckles. Licking off the come on his hands, he smiles. “You taste like sugar, sweetheart.”
_
The sheets you wake up in smell overwhelmingly like Wonwoo. The man is nowhere to be seen, but the blankets next to you are shuffled and the pillow has a dent, and you remember being caved by his warmth at night when the storm had hit Seoul again and you’d woken up for a second before falling asleep to the steady rise and fall of the chest wrapped around you. 
You wake up slowly, adjusting your eyes to the sunlight. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in Wonwoo’s bedroom, but this is the first time you’ve slept over. Usually you leave, no matter how late it is. But it feels good. It feels oddly intimate. 
Your legs burn when you walk, but you try to look for your clothes. 
Your shirt is ripped again. 
You strut out of the room after wearing your panties and bra, which is barely holding on to one hook remaining, and find the man standing in the open kitchen, wearing a tank top and sweatpants. He’s drinking coffee, and a book is in his hands. 
“Wonwoo, you’ve torn my clothes again. How am I supposed to go home like this?”
He turns to face you, smiling and fixing his glasses, and standing up. He looks so good in the warmth of the sunlight falling on his golden skin. “You’re up.”
“Do you think I can keep buying new clothes?”
“Yes. Now, calm down. Do you-”
“Wonwoo!” 
“For god’s sake, I can’t take your shit this early in the morning. You want to fight, please do. Not now. It’s too early. You just always find something up your ass and have to pick on me for nothing, huh?”
His smile has faded, and the warmth in your body seeps away. About time, though. You don’t want to start feeling safe in Wonwoo’s private space. It’s too intimate- waking up in his bed, seeing him walk around in sweatpants, drinking coffee he’s making for you. It’s too much.
“This has to stop, Wonwoo.”
“Okay, fine! I’ll not rip your shirts. Take my card and buy something-”
“This arrangement has to stop.”
He turns away from the coffee machine for a second, and stares at you. You walk towards him, and he looks even better up close. His tank top shows off his arms, and they look soft yet really firm. You want to touch-
“Why? Have I made you uncomfortable?”
“No, it’s not-”
“Do you want to date someone? You can, you know. I don’t care-”
“Wonwoo-”
“Did I hurt you? Was I too much last night?” he steps closer to you, furrowing his eyebrows in evident confusion, and you suddenly can’t breathe. His expression is very much readable and it only reads as one emotion- concern.
“Wonwoo, please.” You take a step back, hugging yourself with your arms. 
“Does it hurt? I am sorry if it does-” 
“It’s not your fault. It’s a me thing, I swear.”
His eyes become clouded by even more confusion, and you quietly walk away and sit down on the kitchen counter. 
“This is becoming too much for me. I- I got into this arrangement thinking that it would be a good way to vent stress. But it’s toxic now- I can’t think of any other way to deal with stress except this. Don’t you notice how our meetings have become more frequent now, especially initiated from my end? In the last three months, I’ve initiated sex fifteen times, and you’ve only six times. You see? This has become my only solution now.” 
Wonwoo doesn’t look at you, but he keeps wincing at your words as if he’s being hit physically. Then he responds, when you’re done, “That does sound like  a you problem, like why-” 
You slide off the counter with a huff, muttering Fucking jerk under your breath, but he catches your wrist before you can walk further away. 
“Don’t touch me if you’re going to react like that. I fucking knew it, why did I even talk to you? I can just walk away, I didn’t even need to expose my weaknesses to you.” 
He yanks you closer using your wrist. “This isn’t a war, Y/N. I don’t get off on knowing about your weaknesses, for fuck’s sake. Can you stop being paranoid?”
You sigh. You know you’re always paranoid around him- funny, because he’s seen you in more compromising positions than anyone else. If he wanted to blackmail you, or hurt you, by hitting your weaknesses, he would, you realise. Is that why you’ve learnt to feel so safe around him? 
“I’m sorry I reacted like that, Y/N. Talk to me, let’s work this out together. Let’s set up a system to slow our meetings down if you like?” 
You bite your lip, and look up at him. “How?” 
“Umm, how about you start to find other sources for it? Like hanging out with friends? Developing hobbies?” 
You huff again, twisting your hand out of his grip. “Wonwoo, if I had other sources, would I not use them?” 
“Darl-”
“Don’t call me that! We’re not having sex right now.”
“Y/N. Take your time to find other sources, then. If I’m your only means of relieving stress, it is extremely toxic. You’ll become dependent on me, and-” his pupils shake, looking away from you, “you’ll find it tough to date and all. Been there. Done that. That’s why I can tell you this.”
You’re about to reply something, when your phone rings out in a shrill tone. Surprisingly, Wonwoo’s phone rings out at the same time too. 
You jog into the bedroom to find your phone and pick it up. It’s your sister. 
“Y/N-ie! You’re not at home?”
“No. Why? Are you coming over?” 
“No, I just made Kyungmin drive us to your place to see your place is empty. Where are you?”
“Never mind where I am. Why did you come over?” 
“Mum and Dad want us to have lunch with the Jeons,” you can hear her giggle. But you’re stunned. “With the Jeons? Now? Today? For what joy? Are we buying their company?” She giggles again, leaving you more frustrated. “You’ll find out. I’ll send you an address then, come over directly!” And she promptly ends the call, leaving you blank and confused. Your phone pings- there’s the address of a restaurant, and a message asking you to be there within an hour. You realise only now how late you’ve woken up, and you’re glad it’s a Sunday.
“Why am I eating lunch with your parents?” Wonwoo walks into the bedroom, that confused look on his face again. “I could literally ask you the same damn thing. What’s going on?” “Does it look like I’ve got a single clue, babe?” He smirks at your cluelessness, and walks into his ensuite bathroom, leaving you speechless. Did he just call me babe? You wonder, but then your mind flits back to the issue at hand. 
“Wonwoo!” You scream at him from outside the bathroom. You’re sure he can hear you, so you don’t wait for a reply. “Yah! What am I supposed to wear? You’ve torn my clothes, you fucker!” Your stress levels are rising again. You’re going to have to go back home to wear something appropriate. You realise that you haven’t even brought your car. You’ll have to ask Wonwoo to drive you back. But fuck, what if your sister is still at your place?  Then she’ll see you both coming together, and undoubtedly she’ll prod and poke you. Then you won’t be able to have the upper hand at lunch when Wonwoo signs his company over to you. But there’s no other option as well. Well, there is- you can always stop at a boutique or a shop to buy something and wear it on the go. But that’d mean you’d have to go out in this hideously ripped blouse of yours. Oh!
“Wonwoo! You dumbass! I hate you! What have you done now? Why are we going for this lunch? For god’s sake.”
“Stop screaming, woman.” The door suddenly opens, and a half-naked Wonwoo steps out, engulfed in the steam from what was definitely a very hot shower. You have to stop yourself from moaning out at the sight. It reminds you of the three times you’ve showered together, and you can’t help but think back to the vivid memories of those sessions. 
“How can I stop screaming? I don’t even know what’s going on. You knew about this, didn’t you? Why are you so calm?” Wonwoo takes another step towards you, and he runs his hands along your arms. You shiver under his touch, realising you’re still wearing just your underwear. “Calm down. This isn’t a big deal, you’ve dealt with more serious issues. It’s just lunch.” “But it’s lunch with your family. I don’t even know why.” He presses a hand along your cheek, and you’re feeling even more conscious and nervous. Why? This is really unusual, because Wonwoo is right. You’ve been in worse emergencies. Why is this getting on your nerves? Probably because your periods are due this week. These are just your hormones. 
“Just enjoy the food. You’re anyway good at ignoring me in public places, and you can do the same to my family too.” 
You bite your lip, and shake your head. “I need fresh clothes.” 
“Yeah okay. Get into the shower and clean yourself up. I’ll ask my secretary to send something over.” “What? How-” “I think she’s the same dimensions as you.” “Oh.” You step away from him, swallowing whatever words you had to say. “I’ll go into the shower then.”
_
Thirty-five minutes and a very nice warm shower later, you’re standing in the bedroom and there’s a very pretty black dress on the bed. There’s also a new pair of lingerie next to it, complete with red roses sewn into black lace. Wow, that’s what Wonwoo asked his secretary to buy, huh. He definitely knows her dimensions very well. And the clothes fit, almost perfectly as if tailor-made. The dress is of unknown brand but the feel of the satin on your skin feels nice enough for you to forget about its origin. 
“Done?” Wonwoo steps into the room. “Jeez, can you knock? Scared me.” You’re applying Wonwoo’s sunscreen (frankly shocked to see him owning it, but then, his skin is pretty nice). You’ve also applied the same perfume as his, and combed your hair in a million different ways, to make up for the lack of make-up or your usual products. 
“Knock when I’ve seen you naked in this very room a hundred times? No thanks. Let’s go, we’re late.” 
“Hmm,” you slip your feet into your shoes and pick up your bag. “I’m ready.” So is Wonwoo, you notice, who’s dressed in a grey sweater and jeans. The softness of his clothes contrast the sharpness of his features, and it… looks nice. 
It takes you two twenty minutes to reach the restaurant, the ride passed in silence as you catch up on work mails from your phone. 
“I’ll go first, and you come ten minutes later, okay?” “Yeah. And Y/N, don’t tell them you were with me, okay?” “Of course not. I’m not a dumb nut like you.” And you shut the door of the car with unnecessary force as you walk out of the car. You swear you can hear Wonwoo curse behind you, but you give no fucks. 
“Oh! Y/N-ie! Welcome!” You walk straight into the arms of your mother, who’s dressed in a gaudy dress that does not suit her figure. “Eomma! How many times have I asked you not to wear these dresses?” “Oh shush! I bought this last weekend. Don’t tell me it looks bad, I’m in a good mood now.” You grimace and walk towards the table where your sister, her husband, and your father are waiting for you, smiling from ear to ear. Mr and Mrs Jeon, and Wonwoo’s younger brother are sitting on the other side of the table, also smiling from ear to ear. The excessive smiles are disturbing you, you’ve positively never seen Mrs. Jeon smile that wide.
“Oh, you look so good! Did you lose weight, Y/N-ie?” Mrs Jeon beckons you to sit next to her, and she takes your hand in hers. You force a smile on your face, still clueless about what’s going on. You can only hope they start talking about it when Wonwoo comes. 
Speaking of the devil, he does come way earlier than you asked him too. You’re suddenly nervous, as the families start smiling again. “Aigoo, our handsome boy is here. Sit here, sit here.” Your sister welcomes him and he sits wedged between her and his mother.
“Eomma, what’s going on?” he asks.
“Aah, straight to the point. Forget about that, tell us, did you both come together?” You spill out the drink from your mouth, almost choking. “Us? Together? Hahaha. No, of course not! Why would you think that Mrs Jeon? Hahaha.” “Hmm…” your sister exchanges looks with your mother and Mrs Jeon, before finally giving you that stupidly bright smile again. “Is there something you both want to tell us? We’ll give you a chance before-” Wonwoo interrupts, “Appa, what’s this nonsense? Just tell us without this suspense.”
Mr Jeon, who’d quietly been busy on his phone for so long, looks up and stares a little blankly. His wife nudges him, and then he seems to remember. “Oh, so, Wonwoo. You know you both can tell us what you want.” Your father pipes in, “Yes, same goes for you, Y/N.” Wonwoo and you exchange confused looks before you speak up, “Okay, but really. What’s this suspense for?”
“We know you’re dating.” Your sister blurts out, and there’s a sudden silence at the table. 
You think your eyes may burst out from the shock, and the way in which your palms instantly become sweaty is a dead giveaway of your nervousness. “What?! Unnie, are you out of your mind? What the fuck?” 
“Language, Y/n-ah.” Your mother says, “You think we don’t know what you both are doing, huh?” And then she giggles. The damn audacity.
“I think there’s some grave misunderstanding, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N and I are… certainly, not dating.” Wonwoo’s mother grasps his hand across the table, and says, “Oh my son. My dutiful son. You don’t have to pretend about this. Just because Jeon Estates is rivals with Y/N’s company, doesn’t mean you both have to be secretive about dating!” There’s a little cough from both fathers, and Kyungmin and Wonbin, Wonwoo’s brother, burst out laughing. 
“Eomma, we’re not hiding anything. It’s a fact, we aren’t-”
“Explain these then. Booking out Eiffel Tower for a dinner date, huh?”
“Eomma, how do you know? Are you spying on me?”
“No! Of course not! We just looked at your credit card bill, accidentally. Then I spoke to Bora, your secretary, and she confirmed that you’d been spending a lot of time with Y/N. Not only that, there’s more-”
“Yes, indeed. Y/N-ie, why didn’t you ever tell us?”
You gasp, feeling lightheaded. “Did Jisung…? That trai-”
“Not Jisung. Jisung wouldn’t open his mouth. So I spoke to your chauffeur. He tells me he regularly picks you up from Wonwoo’s place?”
That’s it. This is it. It doesn’t get worse than this. This is your end. Oh, earth, swallow me up.
“Darling,” Mrs Jeon rubs your back, “Please don’t feel so shy. We know that our husbands haven’t left a great friendship for you two heirs. But you need not worry about all this rivalry.”
Your sister joins, “Yes. I’ve convinced Appa, and our lovely Aunt Jiwoo has convinced Mr Jeon too. Oh you both are so silly, hiding a precious thing like this from us.”
Wonwoo and you glare at each other. You realise there’s no point in explaining things to these people sitting in front of you. If they’ve reached the point where your sister is calling Wonwoo’s mother as aunt, then they must have discussed this extensively before calling you two to this lunch. An ambush, that’s what this is, you think in despair. 
“So what we’re saying is, instead of keeping it hidden like this, why don’t the two of you get married? Wonwoo-ah? You’re turning thirty next year, aren’t you? I want to see my grandchildren too,” Mrs Jeon says, and everything falls in place. This is blackmail. Your mother’s been asking you to get married ever since you took over the company, claiming that having a man at your side would help your life be perfect and free of any troubles, and even forcing you on some arranged dates. Wonwoo must be going through the same kind of thing, with him being three years older to you also. It fixes the nail in the coffin, and you stand up from your seat.
“That’s not happening. Mrs Jeon, Mr Jeon, Wonbin-ah, I’m sorry if this disappoints you, and the same goes for my family too. Wonwoo and I are grown adults. What we do is none of your business.”
“But if you are dating, what’s the issue with getting married? And from what I hear, it’s not even a recent fling. All this has been going on for a year now!” Your mother cries out loudly. Although you’re sitting in a secluded corner, the restaurant isn’t quite empty. 
“We’re not… dating. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you all along.”
“Well, then are you guys enemies having movie sleepovers?” your sister adds, and it’s too annoying. “And why did you come over in Wonwoo’s car?” How the fuck? But then you realise, nothing is beyond these women. They may be keeping tabs on your and his car GPS for all you know. 
Wonwoo stands up, looming over your figure. “That’s quite enough. Like Y/N said, what we do is not your business. Thank you for your concern, and enjoy your meal. Eomma, since you’ve taken access to my credit card already, might as well use it to treat yourselves with this meal.” He steps out of the chair, and walks over to where you’re standing. He swiftly grabs your wrist, and pulls you away, “Let’s go. This is a waste of time.” And just like that, the two of you walk away.  
_
Six days later, a wedding invite stands ready in front of you, held out in Jisung’s pale hands. “Does it look good, Ma’am? I’ll send it for printing then.” 
You sigh, and nod your yes.
_
part 2 is now out!
989 notes · View notes
fallingdownhell · 1 year
Note
Sumeru men when your sister/best friend tries to convince them to dump you for her.
Yes, I absolutely love topes like these. It gives so much room for drama or fluff or however the writer wants to take it. I decided on a less angsty/dramatic approach this time. Hope you're fine with that.
Characters Included: Alhaitham; Kaveh; Cyno; Tighnari; Scaramouche/Wanderer
Word Count: 4,1k
Also, Part two of this is out now! Read here
Content: Gender neutral reader; she/her pronouns for your best friend; she tries to convince them to dump reader; some cursing; Scara being refered to as Kuni(kuzushi);
Thanks for the request, hope you like what I made out of it!
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Alhaitham
He would not even notice that your friend is seeing him like this
I honestly think that if Alhaitham were to ever be in a relationship with someone, he would be so whipped for that person
Alhaitham is a very logic driven man, he doesn't concern himself with feelings or other peoples opinions on him
So when he notices that he does feel something for you, he is as shocked as you are, once he finally decides to tell you
the early stages of your relationship are very rocky, Alhaitham has to learn a great many things about all this
you guys have many ups and downs until you finally find a way for you both to work together and it only got better ever since
you really didn't think much of it when you introduced your boyfriend to your friendgroup and one of the girls kept eyeing him
everyone, including you, knew that Alhaitham was a very beautiful man, so it was a common occurence for people to look at him
but she kept doing it, always eyeing him up and down, yet she never tried anything
until one night were you and your boyfriend went out with the rest of your friendgroup
"I'm going to use the bathroom. Be back in a minute.", you said to Alhaitham before you stood up and made your way over to the other side of the restaurant.
The atmosphere was pretty lively inside and everyone was talking among themselves. Everyone, except for one other person. Your friend had been eyeing Alhaitham this entire night again. He always tried to ignore it, but it was becoming rather annoying for him.
As he was about to say something, she suddenly scooted closer to him, right beside him were you were sitting just a minute ago. Then, she leaned in closer to him while she started to slowly stroke his arm.
"So, what do you say we ditch all those other losers and go back to my place?" She smiled at him while saying this and it only made Alhaitham resent her even more.
"No, I'm good.", he said, grabbing her by the wrist and pushing her hand away from him.
"Oh, come on. I know you want me. You keep looking over to me, every time we meet. Besides, I could give you so much more than that bitch (name) ever could."
She tried to lean in even closer, as Alhaitham was still holding her by the wrist. At this point, he was completely fed up with her. Without warning, he stood up from where he was sitting, gathering the attention of their entire table, but he didn't care. He had been dealing with her disgusting behaviour for far too long.
"No, you can not. And frankly, I'm not interested in cheating on my partner. Not now, not ever and especially not with someone as cheap as you are."
By the end of his little speech, you returned back to his side. You only heard what Alhaitham has said since he stood up, but you had a pretty good picture about what had happened in your absence.
You just looked at her dead in the eyes as you said: "Consider this friendship done. I don't want anything to do with you anymore."
And with that, you and your boyfriend gathered all of your stuff and left the restaurant together.
You later found out that all your other friends also distanced themselves from her, apologizing to you and Alhaitham for not noticing anything sooner.
But the two of you were just glad you didn't have to deal with her anymore.
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Kaveh
He would make an entire scene about it
This man is dramatic incarnate with mood swings of hell accompanying him
I mean, we all witnessed his personality first hand in the archon quest. No one can tell me this man is not dramatic as fuck
anyways..
Kaveh believes you to be to most beautiful and most perfect person to have ever walked this earth
So for you, a being of absolute perfection in his eyes, to be in love with him and willing to be in a relationship with him?
Archons, someone please catch him because he is sure he's about to pass out on the spot
thinks of himself as the luckiest guy alive to have scored you. He has no clue on how he did it, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining about it.
You better believe that no one would ever come in between you guys. He would never allow anything like that to happen
It was a slow day for him at the Academya. Kaveh had been reviewing sketches all day long until now, yet nothing has been good enough for him until now. It wasn't like he had any deadline to retain, but this whole process of trying to create something new has been taking far too long for his liking and he felt like he was starting to go mad.
The walls of this office felt like they were slowly closing in on him, trying to bury him beneath them. Worst part was, that he forgot to make himself something to eat, so his stomach had been growling for a few hours now, demanding something to eat.
Yet Kaveh refused to stand up and get something before making at least a tiny bit of progress on this matter at hand. He had always been a very stubborn man, often neglecting himself for his work. You have been scolding him a lot for this behaviour, yet it was difficult for him to let go of it. He was just too used to it at this point.
A knock on his open office door brought him back from his thoughts. He looked up, a part of him hoping to see you there, standing in the door. He felt a little let down as he recognised the figure to be your best friend. The confusion came only a few seconds later.
"Huh? Can I help you with something?"
"Well, not really..", she sheepishly said as she approached him, confusing the man even more. Why was she acting this way? Thinking back, she never acted like that when he interacted with her before. What changed?
She stopped as she stood in front of him, shyly handing him a neatly packed box. "I noticed that you haven't eaten anything today, so I got something for you."
He looked at her, confusion finally turning into understanding. But he didn't want to make a scene, especially not with someone you considered a friend, so he tried to let her down gently.
"Sorry, I'm not really hungry right now." That he didn't want anything from anyone that wasn't you, he left unsaid.
"Oh come on. You haven't eaten the entire day. I'm trying to show you that I can take care of you, better than (name) can. They don't care for you, or they would be standing in my place."
Now absolutely furious, Kaveh was practically sprining out of his chair. Screw friendliness, no one was allowed to talk about you like that. And he was sure to tell her that.
"How dare you say something like that?! Aren't you supposed to be their friend? What kind of friend goes around talking about the other behind their back like that?
No, I want nothing to do with a personality like yours. That is disgusting. I'm not about to cheat on (name)! Why would I do something like that to the most wonderful person I ever met? And besides-!"
Kaveh was now in a full blown rant. He didn't even notice your friend running out of his office with tears in her eyes. Unbeknownst to her or your boyfriend, you were standing outside his open office, a lunch box for him in your hands. You heard the entire thing and your also saw your friend, well former friend, running out of his office. She didn't notice you though.
As you went inside, your boyfriend noticed something moving and when he saw you walking towards him, he immediatly went to you and started gossiping about what just happened while happily munching on his lunch that you brought him.
Yeah.. Kaveh was definitely whipped for you.
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Cyno
Cyno is a very stoic lover
at least that's what other people think of him since he very rarely shows any form of emotion
so it's only natural for people to assume that he would be the same when entering a relationship with someone else
well.. those people would be very wrong about their thinking
Cyno, when in private or surrounded by others that he trusted, would become a somewhat expressive person
he still wasn't outright affectionate with you or proclaimed his love for you anywhere he went, but he was trying his damn hardest for you to show you that he loved you
that inculded trying to be on good terms with your friends and family
Cyno isn't the most social and outgoing person, but he tries to get along with the people that are important to you
he sometimes turns to them when he needs advice on what would be a good gift for you or stuff like that
moments like these would be the times where your friends can clearly see how much you actually mean to him
One of your friends has always been a drawn to closed of people who become lovestruck with their significant other and apparently, she decided that she wanted that for her as well. And in her mind, it just HAD to be your boyfriend, Cyno
He was on his way home after a long and stressful day at the Academya. Cyno couldn't wait to get home to you, to taste your cooking and just hold you in his arms again. It was all he needed to charge him back up again. Yet it seemed that fate had different plans with him today.
"Uhm, excuse me?", he was stopped by a very soft spoken voice a little bit behind him. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to find your best friend standing there, looking at him like she wanted to tell him something.
"Can I help you?", he asked, sounding rather cold but he couldn't help it. He was exhausted and he just wanted to get this over with and get home.
"Well, I just needed to talk to you. I was chatting with (name) the other day and they told me that they have been cheating on you with someone else. I'm so sorry but I just had to let you know!"
For a second, his eyes widened in absolute shock.
You? Cheating on him?
That couldn't be. You would never...
After the initial shock, his rational side took over Cyno again and he took a deep breath before turning to your best friend again.
"Thank you for telling me that. Have they also told you when this event happened?"
"Oh.. yes, they did. They said that it was like three days ago."
And now, Cyno was utterly confused. He remembered that day well. It has been a very slow day at work. So slow in fact, that after lunch he took the rest of the day off and went home to spend it with you.
You were still in bed since it had been your day off and you decided to sleep in for once. You were pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend back so soon and you two spend the entire day in bed.
So Cyno was now obviously confused by the statement that your friend made. It was obviously a lie, but why would she feel the need to lie about something like that? Didn't she know that accusations such as these could very easily lead to a break up?
While he was still pondering in his thoughts about the meaning of this, your friend saw this as her chance to get closer to him. She walked towards Cyno, slowly putting her hand on his arm and leaning her head against his shoulder.
"I'm so sorry you had to find out like this. Why don't you come with me? I can help you get over them..", she whispered and that's when Cyno got his answer. The reason as to why she would accuse you of cheating on him.
He immediatly recoiled from her, which seemed to surprise her.
"I don't know how you got that impression, but I would never choose you over them. The fact that you would sink to such lowly methods makes me even more sick.
Now, I suggest, you stay away, from me as well as from (name). I don't want to see you near them ever again. And if I find out that you spread any more lies about them, I will personnaly hunt you down and bring you to justice."
Your friend ran away quickly after that and Cyno could finally return home to you. You noticed that something was off about him and after a nice dinner, he told you all about the encounter he had with your best friend. Well, Ex best friend would be a better term from now on.
That night, you cuddled up closer to Cyno and thanked him for always looking out for you and protecting you.
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Tighnari
As we all know, Tighnari is a fennec fox, and fennec foxes mate for life
So Tighnari would only date with the intention of marriage and a life together in mind
something like cheating would never even cross his mind
he would be over the moon if he would find someone that he would want to spend his life with in the first place
you can consider yourself very lucky if Tighnari falls for you
he is very conscious about that side of him and I think he would very much avoid dating for a long time in his life until he met that one person he is sure is meant for him
nothing in this world could ever convince him to leave you once he has made up his mind
of course Tighnari would talk to you about all of that before he would enter a relationship with you
for one to make sure that you were both on the same page, as well as to give you a way out if you were not up for all of that
those were also aspects about his life that he did not share with just anyone
especially regarding things about the fennec fox part of him. only very few and trusted people knew about certain things, like his mating habits
so of course, someone who had no idea about him and how his instincs work, would never fully understand
Tighnari has been looking forward to this day for so long now. You would finally return to him after weeks of being separated because of your studies. While he was understanding about it, he couldn't deny that he missed you greatly.
His more animalistic side has been crying for his mate for a few weeks now and the only form of contact you two had in that time has been through letters you sent each other. Tighnari has been treating each one of them with the upmost care, since it was the only thing he got to recieve from you.
So obviously, the day of your arrival back in Ghandarva Ville was a big deal for him. He has been antsy this entire day, very quick to jump when someone has been calling his name, always anticipating it to be you. Even Collei noticed his change in behaviour, but since she knew where it came from, she didn't worry too much about him, knowing that it would die down once you were finally back. The rangers would just have to deal with it for the time being.
In fact, everyone was very much excited and glad that you would be returning back soon, since they hoped it would finally help with Tighnari's extreme mood swings. They got especially bad the last few days. Well... everyone except one person was excited..
A person that you considered a dear friend was very much not happy about it. If it were her, she would be happy if you just died in a ditch and never returned, so she could take Tighnari for herself. She always had a thing for the Master of the forest rangers, but then you just had to get in the picture and take him for yourself.
She thought that now, while you were gone, it would finally be her time to make her move on him, to get him to see that she was so much better than you could ever be for him. But it was like Tighnari wasn't even paying attention to her. Not to her riskier outfits that she wore and not to the things she was saying to him.
It's like she didn't even exist in his world. Like she was just a nuisance passing through. So, if she really wanted something to happen, she would have to make a deciding move right now, before you returned.
And so, she made her way over to Tighnari's hut, not really sure what she would do, but she knew that she had to do something.
Upon entering, she saw the man sitting on his desk, scribbling on some papers in front of him.
"Tighnari?", she spoke and the man looked up at her, the hope in his eyes quickly washed away as he realised who it was. That did not sit right with her, but she tried to swallow down the fury welling up inside her.
"Yes? Do you need something?", he asked, sounding agitated.
"I do, in fact. I wanted to talk to you about something."
Sighing, Tighnari now turned towards her, facing her with a slightly bothered expression, while gesturing for her to continue.
"It's about (name). I want you to choose me over them. I'm so much better than them and I could make you happy. They even left you alone for weeks on end while I have been here with you, trying to get you to notice me. Tell me, what's so special about them? What do they have that I don't?"
It was silent for a few seconds while she waited for an answer from him. She thought that the silence was something good, that he finally saw her for what she could be for him. But when she raised her head to look at Tighnari, the look of utter disgust on his face told her a different story.
"Well, there are many things that you don't have, but we can start with your disgusting personality. (Name) would never even dare to think of themselves as better or above other people. The fact that you think yourself better than them makes me sick.
Now listen closely.. I will never choose anyone over (name). I promised to take care of them an I will see to it that I uphold this vow. So get out of here before I completely loose my temper."
Without another word from her, she ran out and left a very strained Tighnari back in his hut. He was still sorting through his thoughts when a few minutes later, you walked in, greeting your boyfriend after a long time apart.
Tighnari was instantly overjoyed, forgetting all about the events that happened prior to this. He welcomed you in his arms again and refused to let go again. He did not work anymore on that day, and instead spent the rest of it cuddling with you in his bed, talking about all the stuff that happened while you two were apart.
As for "your rival", she got transfered back to the Academya where she would continue her studies, far away from you and Tighnari. But neither of you cared very much about that.
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Wanderer/Scaramouche
God, the patience you would need to get into a relationship with him
he never had a very good influence in his life after Niwa and the people from that village, so you will have to be patient and understanding with him
He is trying his best, but it's difficult for him to feel vulnerable
he always considered his feelings as a sign of weakness, so he can't just easily accept them now
It's a process and he will need your help to get through it, even if he would never ask for your help out loud
his pride is in his way quite often, but he tries to tone it down
I see him as a very protective and clingy lover
He would want to be by your side at all times. He tells himself it's to make sure that you don't betray him, but you both now it's because he's starved for any kind of attention and affection you give him
for wanderer to get into a relationship, he would have to really, really trust you, otherwise he would not even consider the thought
so of course he would never consider the possibility of a relationship with someone who was practically a stranger to him
The Wanderer was currently out on a run to get some errands for you. Even though he protested, said you shouldn't have forgotten stuff that you obviously needed, his words were betrayed as he was already on his way to the door.
The thing is, you wanted to cook for him today but silly little you forgot to put a few things on your shopping list that you would need for the dish you were planning to make.
So, your boyfriend, chivalrous as he is, went out to the Grand Bazar to get them for you. He planned on a quick trip, only purchasing the things he needed to, so he could return as quickly as possible.
"Hey, Kuni!"
But fate seemed to have different plans with him, as he heared this joyful voice almost scream his name. He turned around to see a friend of yours running towards him, her arm in the air as she was waving at him.
"What do you want from me? And who told you you could call me that?"
Truth is, he never really liked her. She always looked him up and down and the way she was talking to you never really set right with him. But, he refrained from saying anything, not wanting to upset you or anything. Now though, he wished he wouldn't have acted so friendly with her.
"Aww, come on. Don't be so grumpy, Kuni. I know you like it when I call you that."
Did she... try to sound seductive right now? Judging by the way she was clinging to him and batting her lashes at him, he would guess that yes, she was trying to seduce him. Not that he would ever agree to any of it, but he wanted to see how far she would be willing to go.
"Yeah, you're right.. I do... like it.." Every fiber of his being wanted to recoil from her and throw up in disgust after he said those words. It felt so wrong to him, but it seemed that she didn't notice that.
In fact, she looked delighted to hear those words leave his mouth. "I knew it. I knew that you would come around. It was obvious that (name) wasn't the right person for you. After all, they can never do anything right, wouldn't you agree? Honestly, I'm just glad I stayed friends with them long enough to get to know you. We match so much better, don't you think?"
Ohh, now she was in for it. He would not just stand here and allow her to disrespect you like that. Not on his watch.
"Now listen here, you little bitch. I know you did not just say that about someone who consideres you to be a friend. I don't know how you got the idea that I could ever be into you, but you're very wrong.
So get that into your thick skull, I will never want someone like you. And I suggest you better leave (name) and me alone from now on. Unless of course, you want to find out what I can do to make your life a living hell.
Now, run along, and never come back."
Suddenly frightened, she slowly backed away from him before turning and bolting away like the devil itself was chasing after her.
The Wanderer only sighed as he finished up with the shopping list and returned back to you like nothing had happened.
The next few days, you noticed that your friend avoided you like the pest, but when you went to your boyfriend to ask if he knew if anything had happened, he merely shrugged his shoulders, pretending that he didn't know anything.
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betting on all three for us two
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pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: you think you like being a little more friendly and a little less competition with luke castellan this year. a sequel to this fic word count: 3.1k warnings: none
author's note: frat luke my dearly beloved loser son who studies pre-med this is for you you know who you are i love you
1. 
The fall semester comes at you faster than you’d like, this rapid change from a golden summer to the crisp air of being back on campus. You’re rooming with someone from an old anthropology elective you took, Silena finally moving into her sorority house. It should feel weirder, how everything has changed since spring break. 
You take the opportunity to build new habits. Early runs, no caffeine after 2pm. Little things that make the day go a tiny bit faster, building blocks to fit around your class schedule. Silena schedules weekly lunches for the three of you and there’s this gravity to it all that you want to study. 
It had been nice to be home for a few months. Your mom had missed having you there, being able to show you the new flowers she planted, how the lemon tree in the yard is twisting weirdly. Board games and family dinners and friends who never left your town. Being back home was resetting. Being back on campus was restarting.
Lee catches you as you leave the gym, offering to walk you to class if you’re heading in that direction. You smile, telling him that you have a late start and pretend he doesn’t frown when your phone buzzes. He mentions that he’s thinking of starting a study group for one of your classes and you tell him you’ll think about joining. 
While he heads towards the main building, you make your way to the campus coffee shop - caught behind the early risers desperate for something to get them through their first lecture of the day. 
“Can I get a flat white and an iced americano with caramel to go please?” You smile at the girl working the counter, stepping aside to glance at your watch.
You run through your schedule for today, ignoring the text that comes through. You know exactly what it says, the same thing every morning, and you don’t even bother to roll your eyes at this point. 
“I can’t believe you ignored my text,” Luke says when you reach the courtyard between the library and the medical building. “Not even a flame emoji.”
You stop in front of him, drinking in the jeans and sweater combination he’s settled on today. It’s a really nice sweater, dark blue and a little baggy. You wonder how quickly he’d notice it going missing. Probably not as quickly as he’d notice the stupid hat he’s wearing go missing. His backpack leans against the bench, pristine.
“No one uses those except you,” you shake your head, handing him the iced drink. “What time does your lecture start?” 
Luke tells you as if he really needs to. It’s this thing you’ve started doing since the semester began, acting like you don’t know his schedule as well as your own. As if the both of you haven’t fallen into this routine in just a few weeks. Like it’s not a highlight of your day. 
Clarisse thinks it’s adorable. Chris thinks it’s hilarious. You think it’s nice to have someone to share your free time with, beyond whatever else you and Luke have. It had been a fear of yours, when Silena mentioned not sharing a dorm with you, that you would fall to the sidelines. That life would come with these new priorities for everyone and you would only be fourth or fifth on their lists, too cemented in the day-to-day that you’d be forgotten.
Morning coffee with Luke stops that fear. 
“Did Silena tell you about the party on Friday?” 
“I have a study group in the afternoon,” Luke says, swirling his plastic cup around so the ice clinks together. “If I do go, I’m showing up late.” 
“Maybe I’ll keep my eye out for you there, Castellan.” 
He laughs and it’s like summer again. There’s something insane about hearing Luke laugh like this, unbroken and loud, nothing like it had been over the phone while you were back home. 
“You’ve got dinner with Silena and Clarisse tonight, right?” He asks, swinging his bag over one shoulder. You throw your empty cup into the trash can as you both start walking. “Is there any point in asking if you want to come round after?”
You knock his arm with your shoulder, laughing, and, instead of feigning hurt like usual, Luke just takes your hand in his, the skin a little colder than you expect. Gazing down at your linked hands, you bite your lip before sighing. 
“If I’m home before eleven, I’ll consider it.” 
Last year, when you first met him, you thought Luke only got that determined glint in his eyes when he was competing. That it was a sign of an unanticipated thrill. Since then, you’ve learnt that it’s not that at all. It’s this thing that ignites within him, determined and passionate and a little boyish. 
You think it might be one of your favorite things about him.
“I will take that deal.”
2. 
You wish you could say you were a little drunk. At least that way you would have something to blame. As it stands, you’re stone cold sober, maybe a little tired from class but nothing that can really be blamed for the lack of weight your actions seem to have right now. 
The only thing you can blame, and you will, is the boy next to you, completely engrossed in the movie playing. They’d been watching it when you arrived, all settled on the couches and you assume this is something they do regularly, and at any other time you might’ve called it cute. 
Not tonight. Not when you walked in to the discovery that Luke wears glasses and you didn’t know about it. It was something you played off, making a joke and settling into the cushions beside him. In the time since, Chris has left for his date with Clarisse and Charlie has pulled out some work to go through in the corner of the room. 
“What’s up?” Luke asks when he realizes you’ve hardly moved in ten minutes, barely even breathing. And it’s the worst possible thing he could do, glance down through the frames with that small smile you’ve gotten used to and curls loose. 
“Nothing’s up,” you let your eyes trail back to the screen. “This is a very cute tradition you guys have going on.” 
Charlie lets out a little laugh from across the room. You feel the way Luke exhales against the side of your face. You think you’re able to go back to pretending everything is normal, make a joke and enjoy the rest of the movie. The second you feel Luke’s fingertips on the skin of your knee, gentle and warm, you know you can’t. 
“You’re swerving,” he whispers, throwing a quick glance at Charlie to see if he can hear but the other boy is engrossed in his work. “Talk to me.” 
“It’s nothing,” you bite the inside of your cheek when he nods encouragingly, incredibly aware of the patterns he’s tracing on your skin. “I just think it’s interesting that you’d choose to wear a hat all the time when the glasses are right there.” 
“What?”
His hand stills and you wait. You wait and you stare at the shape of his jaw and you chuckle when it finally clicks, his adam’s apple shifting as he swallows the conclusion down. “Are you saying you like my glasses?” 
You don’t like how uneven this all feels. Whenever you’ve been with Luke so far, there’s been this mutual balance that you’ve grown used to. Even before now, back when you were locked in silly competitions, you did it on even footing, the expectation that everything meant nothing and you wouldn’t be affected. 
This, the way Luke grins around the realization, hand moving to rest on your thigh, is different. It’s heavier. It’s a loss after a winning streak and you’re kind of obsessed with the way it could drag you down. 
“I just think that hat is stupid.” 
“Yeah, okay,” Luke nods and you know, even if he doesn’t do it outright, he’s laughing. He’s categorizing the information you’ve just given him, placing it where it belongs in his mind, and it’s going to bite you in the ass. “Tell me more.” 
“Luke,” you mutter, gritting your teeth. His fingertips brush against the hem of your shorts and, when you glare at him for it, he just shrugs. You throw a glance over in Charlie’s direction. Still nothing. “Are you insane?” 
He tilts his head like he’s considering the question carefully. If Charlie were to look over, you know he’d assume you were locked in a debate about something silly - a staple of you and Luke - and it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t know for a second that you were holding onto Luke’s wrist, his hand itching to move just a little to the left. 
You sigh and the boy beside you raises an eyebrow. You both know that you’ve lost this round. 
When you press your lips to his bicep as the film credits roll, warm even through the fabric of his shirt, you mumble, “I really like your glasses.” 
3.
You aren’t used to watching things from a crowd. You’re used to focusing on yourself, on your team - not watching from a distance, surrounded by people who are there purely for enjoyment. There’s no winning from the stands. 
Luke doesn’t know you’re here. You’d sent him a text that morning wishing him luck, arranging to meet him when his debate was over. You hadn’t bothered to message him when your afternoon class got canceled, choosing instead to race across campus and find a seat in the dim auditorium they’re using. 
There isn’t the crackle of energy you get from swimming, or from watching Luke during track sessions. It’s less intense, for sure, a balance between the fire you know exists within him when he’s competing and the confidence he has in his own intelligence. You’ve argued with Luke, stupid things that neither of you care to take too seriously, and this is just the next stage of that. 
He’s got his glasses on, you note, when the debate gets underway. He’s wearing his lucky green polo, even if he’d never personally call it that, and he’s switched his smartwatch out for an analogue one. The cheap biro you’re used to seeing him use has been replaced by a fancy silver pen that he still taps against his thigh while thinking. He’s sitting straighter than usual, shoulders back. 
It’s almost like meeting him for the first time, focused and confident and sharp at the edges. 
You’re kind of obsessed with it. 
An hour and a winning handshake later, you make your way through the small crowd leaving to find Luke in conversation with one of his teammates. She smiles as you wrap an arm around his waist from behind, the slight tension still lingering in his bones melting away when he realizes it’s you. 
“What are you doing here?” He says, turning enough that he’s actually facing you now. The girl waves you both goodbye. “I thought you had class.” 
“Professor Chase had to cancel. His daughter got sent home from school with a fever.” 
Luke nods, pressing his lips to the top of your head quickly. “You didn’t have to come to my debate.” 
In the few months you’ve known Luke, you’ve learnt more about him than you expected to. You know from summer that Connecticut means looking after his sick mother, that he’s hoping to introduce some new charity events to ksig, that he used to go to a summer camp growing up. You know that his dad never showed up for anything and that he sits in the stands of all of your swim meets regardless of whether it cuts into his study time or not.
More than all of that, you know that the way he’s gazing at you now, a cross between awe and something deeper, is going to drive you crazy one day. You hope he can read the same expression on your face. 
“Thank you for coming,” he says when everyone is finally dismissed, an arm thrown across your shoulders as you make your way out of the building. You loop a finger around one of his, just because you want to. “It means a lot.”
“I told you I would,” and you had, months ago, staring at Luke’s bedroom ceiling, back when you were still caught in the casualness of it all. When Luke was just someone you pretended you weren’t trying to bump into at parties. You’d told him that you would show up for him if you ever got the chance. He’d rolled his eyes, throwing a blanket over you both and told you to go to sleep. He’d drifted off with his nose pressed against your neck. “I keep my word, Castellan.” 
“I know.”
In the evening light of campus, you think it might mean something more. Buried under the timing and the bitter wind until it’s a promise only you and Luke could translate. Asking him about where he wants to go for dinner, you like that no one else could understand the depth of it. 
+1.
Silena catches your attention as you enter the kitchen, grinning wildly and explaining her concept for tonight. Drew gave her permission to throw this week’s party, something themed and fun and it’s something she’s so proud of that you can’t help but grin back at her energy. 
“Even Charlie came,” she tells you excitedly, handing you a drink. “I feel like tonight is going to be it.” 
In all the years you’ve known her, she’s been counting down to it. You don’t exactly understand the fundamentals of what it is, if it’s a real thing or something she can just sense intrinsically. There have been moments where she’s thought of it before, mentioned it offhandedly before shaking her head - as if knowing she was wrong. 
“What even is it?” You ask and, for the first time, she breathes deeply instead of shrugging it off. 
“The beginning of the end,” she says and that doesn’t exactly explain anything. “Everything is about to change.” 
You still don’t really get it, but she’s as confident in this as she is about her clothes, so you nod like you understand. She sends you away not long after that, turning her attention to the new group that’s just walked through the doorway, mentioning that you need to be in the basement in about an hour and you just accept your fate, moving into the next room and falling into conversation with Rachel. 
*
Luke slips into the basement just as Silena starts yelling for everyone to do so, catching your eye across the room and waving. When you’re all instructed to sit down in a circle, you wonder exactly what Silena has planned for tonight. When she places a near empty bottle down in the center of you all, you laugh. 
“Are we actually playing spin the bottle?” Chris asks, prompting a murmured chorus of agreement from everyone else in the room. Silena frowns at him. 
“Wanna bet he ends up getting the most into it?” Luke whispers in your ear and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Loser has to buy the coffee tomorrow morning.” 
“You’re on,” you bump your fist to his to seal the deal. “I think he’s gonna get bored by round 3.” 
“Only boring people get bored of this game. It’s about drive.” 
“It’s about power?” Luke lets out a laugh and Silena turns her glare to you. “Sorry.”
She starts to explain the rules of the game, as if you’re all twelve again, and you bite your lip harder with every comment Luke makes under his breath. It’s a little mean, a little stupid, and you wish you were fifteen again, playing a proper game of spin the bottle for the first time.
Nothing much happens for the first few rounds, Chris starting to grumble the longer the game goes on. Luke clicks his tongue when you point it out, cursing his best friend like this was the worst thing that could’ve happened to him. 
Lee spins and it’s like cosmic interference when the bottle stops between you and Luke, the two of you glancing at each other and then back towards Lee. 
“Should I spin it again?” Lee asks when no one says anything. Silena shakes her head and says, “You can choose or we can vote if that makes you more comfortable.” 
“Please let us vote,” Chris shouts, animated and you narrow your eyes at him, ignoring the smug smile Luke gives you. “I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.” 
Lee glances between you both again, at where your knee rests against Luke’s thigh and the beer you’ve been sharing for the past twenty minutes sits between you. “It might be better to vote.” 
“Sure,” Silena smiles before silencing you all. “Everyone that wants Lee to kiss Luke, raise your hands.” 
You raise your hand and Luke mumbles beside you, flicking your leg and you poke him in return. Anything to avoid kissing Lee Fletcher after two years of avoiding it. 
“That is an overwhelming majority,” Silena says and you know, just by the way her eyes slide over to you, that she didn’t even bother to actually count. “Lee, you may now kiss Luke.” 
There’s this moment where you think Lee is going to just leave but instead he stares at the boy next to you, the relaxed set to his jaw, the annoying baseball cap on his head, how he’s so unbothered by it all. You watch as something clicks in his mind, you really want to know what it is. 
Whatever it was, it makes him grab the bottle again, ignoring Silena’s protests. It lands on the girl from Luke’s debate team and she straightens her back ever so slightly. 
“Silena,” Lee says as he leans towards the girl. “I’m not going to kiss Luke or his girlfriend.”
“Damn straight,” Luke mumbles, grabbing your hand from your lap and holding it in his instead. It’s stupid and it really doesn’t matter to either of you, you know that, but there’s this way he says it - almost like it’s the worst thing he could’ve imagined - and it settles in your gut with the beer you’ve been drinking. “Me or my girlfriend.”
“I’d really like to meet her,” you say, laughing when he huffs and pulls his hat down on your head. When you push the visor up to see him properly, all rosy cheeks and compacted curls, you think you might have found it. Whatever it is.
Based on the way Luke’s nose scrunches and his eyes crinkle, you think he understands that too. 
457 notes · View notes
chlorinecake · 1 month
Note
HELLO
Please PLEASE make a fic about the songs church- chase Atlantic!!
It's my latest obsession, next to enha ofc
leading you on | l.hs
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♱ plot: from the shy boy you first met at church camp who your parents once adored to their biggest fuckboy nightmare, you and heeseung reconnect on an online platform where you became a popular streaming duo together, leading to some steamy (and eventually forbidden) connections between you two…
loser!streamer!heeseung x fem!streamer!reader
♱ contains: SLOW BURN, swearing, sneaking out, mentions of bulges (multiple times), oral and fingering (f. r.), slight corruption kink, y/n stripping in front of a large audience (on camera), unprotected sex + virginity loss, y/n deliberately disobeying her parents, angst-ish, ft. other kpop idols, roughly 7k words
a/n: this is my first time writing a one shot all about Heeseung so hopefully I did our favorite loser boy some justice in this fic... have fun reading!
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Heeseung. He was always just so... flirty with you.
Not emotionally, that is, but physically.
Leaving lingering touches on your thigh during Bible study, whispering dangerously close to your ear in that bedroom voice of his, or texting you random pictures during the day with his bulge obvious in almost every single one.
Two little voices battled in the back of your mind whenever you were around him, one voice wanting him to take things further while the other found it strange how he did such things so shamelessly.
The boy's got sex written all over him, your friends would warn alongside your Christ-converted step-sister Giselle who'd had her fair share of 'guys like Heeseung' in the past.
But you didn't see him that way. Despite his flirty tendencies, you figured those were just attributes that made him who he is.
Who you've always loved him to be.
However, those Holy, Holy, God Almighty church days were long gone by now, being no more than a distant ninth grade memory to you and most of everyone else who attended back then.
Everyone except Lee Heeseung, who could never shake his adolescent infatuation with you... ____, the girl who accepted his flaws and eventually stole his heart.
You and Heeseung reconnected a few years later by chance, the same day of your one year anniversary on your streaming channel.
Initially, your content consisted of one-hour long broadcasts where you'd just talk with random strangers, hearing out their problems and giving righteous advice.
However, Heeseung became a recurrent visitor on your streams, coaxing you to speak on topics more interesting than whether its modest to wear glam makeup or if kissing should be saved for marriage.
Your channel amassed a whopping 20,000 new followers in the first month of Heesung partnering with you, and its part of what led him to becoming an anticipated guest to your growing fanbase.
A dynamic duo, some commenters would call you two... and much to your parents chagrin, at that.
Off camera, things were the same.
You and Heeseung had grown closer than ever, sacrificing sleep to text each other all night, doing fuck-all on your web streams for hours, and even considering meeting up in person for a broadcast after he shared with you that he still lived in the city.
But then... something changed.
Or more accurately, your overly controlling mother put her foot down.
|Messaging| 💬
Heeseung: So we're not allowed to hang out together this Friday ?
You: Not alone... and honestly, not on the streams anymore, either...
Heeseung: Don't tell me its bc ur shyyyy
You: Nope… pArEnTs ^^
You'd say your mom had it out to get Heeseung more than your dad ever did, resenting the mere mentioning of his name at weekly church gatherings.
"That daughter of yours has gained quite the audience on social media," one womann would say, "too bad she seems to be losing her Faith to that poor Heeseung boy..."
"Such a shame," another would agree, adding to the heat-bubbles boiling in your mother's blood-
"Our faith teaches forgiveness and kindness," you defended yourself, just as your mom gave you maybe her third lecture this week on why you should cut ties with him.
"It also advises caution and wisdom when it comes to who we allow into our social circles," she hummed back, taking a sip of her morning coffee, red lipstick staining the rim of the white mug, "I'd be no better than a fool to sit here and support this meaningless friendship between you and that... man."
You internally rolled your eyes at her words, thinking of something, anything to say in order to change the subject right now.
"Well, I have plans with some friends from church tonight, if you don't mind-"
"Will Heeseung be there?"
"What? No," you lied, and not for the first time, either.
It helped you to feel less guilt whenever you blamed it on the little voice in your head, "Just me and the girls," you clarified.
"Mhm," she smiled facetiously before continuing, "I'm afraid I still can't trust you to go, though... especially not after that little stunt you pulled online..."
Your hand halted at the kitchen countertop as her words settled in your mind, "What stunt?"
FLASHBACK
It all started with a picture.
A stupid picture you got dared to leak by an anonymous tipper who offered a $1,000 donation in exchange for a steamy photo of Heeseung.
Chelbear03: God, he looks so THICK
Chelsea, one of your viewers said in the streaming chat, practically moaning at the photo of Heeseung, biting her lip as if she could feel him inside her just by looking at the screen.
Chelbear03: PAINFUL 😩
pucca_princxss: Need a tissue for your drool, Sea-Sea? 🧻
Danielle, another fan joked.
Chelbear03: Okay, FIRST of all, I have drool coming from TWO holes rn- Secondly, I'd rather just have him lick it up 😔
Chelsea typed back, a nuance to her words that you couldn't tell was meant to be either comical or serious.
"Lick up what?" a curious voice asked from the screen.
That's when your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes going wide at the sight of Heeseung coming back into frame after saying he'd be "afk for a bit while showering."
His hair was still a bit damp from what you could tell, a towel draped lazily around his neck as your eyes unfortunately fell to the lump hiding behind his pants.
Oh God-
"N-nothing! Uhm... it's not important," you chuckled dryly, only adding to the awkwardness everyone was starting to feel from behind their screens.
pucca_princxss: OOP speak of the papi-
Chelbear03: Please forgive me, Hee-man 🧎‍♀️ ... bc I am disrespectfully foaming at the mouth as we speak-
Chelbear03 has left the stream
A notification of Chelsea having left the stream popped up in the chat almost immediately after she sent that message.
"What was that all about?," Heeseung smirked with confusion, looking between both you and the server comments displayed on his screen for an answer that never came.
"Fine then, keep your secrets... its not like I can't just rewind the stream highlights anyway," he added, just as you felt frantic emotions overcome you.
"Heeseung, you really don't wanna do that, just let me explain-"
His jaw dropped, not necessarily in shock, but with intrigue, the raunchy photo of his semi-hard cock through his sweatpants being displayed on the screen, right before his glossy deer-like eyes.
The same picture he'd only ever sent to you.
"I guess this is my mini Drake moment then," Heeseung chuckled to himself, a heavy sigh escaping your lips at his fortunately chill reaction.
"I did it for 1k, Heeseung, I'm sorry," you whined, pulling your knees up in your chair before burying your face behind them.
"Don't be... everyone already knows I'm your slut at this point," he said in a deeper voice, making you freeze once again as your eyes shot up to view the screen, almost in denial that such words even left his mouth.
anonymous tipper: worst thousand $$$ I ever spent... how abt I multiply the price by two for a sexy picture of the lady ?
yxstar3ject: ooo, but i was thinking maybe a double feature instead ? would luvvv to see how she treats this little slut of hers 🤭
Heeseung snickered so loud, you almost felt it on your skin, watching his facial expressions change with each suspicious message that filled the chat box, throughly entertaining him
"Guys, cut it out before I end the stream," you giggled shyly, revealing your full face that looked a little less flustered than earlier, "Heeseung isn't my slut either, okay? Just a good friend, I swear..."
pucca_princxss: you two need to stream in the same room one day bc this long distance sexual tension thing is so not the vibe :|
"Maybe one day..." Heeseung's voice faded off as he turned off the lights in his room, getting ready for bed...
"Maybe~~," your mother repeated in a mocking tone at the memory of your "filthy fest" of a stream that day, disgust displayed all over her before she took the last sip of her coffee as if it'd soothe her.
"Hope that refreshed your memory sweetie, but either way, my answer's no. Not with that slut on the streets and especially not without my supervision..."
“If you’re referring to Heeseung with that vulgar comment, I’m sorry to correct you, but it’s not right to just bash him with words like that,” you went on, leaning your elbows over the counter.
“Please, any guy who sends raunchy dick pics, let alone to a girl he’s not even dating, is a slut, ____,” your step-sister Giselle voiced while walking into the kitchen, dressed in athletic wear as she filled up her water canteen with a lemon flavored electrolyte packet, “not to mention those other weird things he says about your relationship on the stream.”
Despite how much your family claimed to dislike Heeseung, they had no problem with bringing him up every five seconds in a conversation.
You glanced at her through a side eye, shaking your head at the fact that she was just eavesdropping on your conversation, “That was hardly a dick pic, and you should know that better than me, Jizz-elle,” you retorted, putting extra emphasis on the first syllable of her old nickname.
“Yeah, real mature, ____… you can slut shame me but not your little online boyfriend?”
“Ladies!,” your mother raised her voice slightly, pursing her lips at the tension built up between you two, “that’s enough of this discussion…”
You noticed the way your mother’s eyes lingered on your step sister for a moment, “And where do you think you’re going?”
“To the gym,” she answered shortly, walking past your mom and out of the kitchen with haste.
You scoffed out loud, “Not gonna interrogate her like you did to me?,” you said, laughing as if humored when it was really just a way to mask how irritated you were.
“No,” your mom said with a delayed reply, “Giselle is not my blood… I must take her word for what she says to avoid conflict with your step-father… you, on the other hand, will—”
“—abide by your rules… got it,” you finished for her, knowing better than to continue going back and forth with her in this matter.
You left the kitchen, going up to your room and plopping yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling as you entered into a deep thinking space.
One in which you'd strategize on how to successfully sneak out of the house to hang out with Heeseung tonight.
|Messaging| 💬
You: So, you want me to meet you where again ?
Heeseung: Just take a hard right past the first stop sign from your place and a few steps past that one brown house (pls ignore my Dora ass instructions rn 🗿)
You: ok ok 😭, smart tho !! … that way, none of my neighbors will see your car :D
Heeseung: Exactly. U sure u still wanna do this, tho ?
You: Yeah, ofc ! Had enough of my mom nagging me all day ☝️ I need a release BIG time
Heeseung: Haha, okay then ! I’ll see you at 10:30pm
You: Cya ! 🐒
THE LAST TIME you and Heeseung met in person was back when you were both young teenagers, navigating hormones and puberty while aiming to keep God at the center of it all, so to speak.
You didn’t know what to expect from meeting up with him, and especially not under such circumstances.
Still, you had a pretty good feeling that all this trouble wouldn’t be for nothing.
It was currently 10:34pm as you turned off all the lights in your bedroom, wearing an all black outfit to ensure you weren’t seen.
You double checked to see if you had everything with you before leaving: phone, spare cash, and a well-rehearsed story in case you got caught.
Opening your bedroom window, you stuck out a leg, suddenly feeling thankful for your step-dad giving you the bedroom on the first story of his home.
Both your feet were on the floor now, your hands finding the window sill as you closed the window back, careful not to accidentally lock it back so you would be able to get back in later.
You then followed the instructions Heeseung outlined in your texts, walking a few blocks down and taking a right turn once you reached the stop sign.
That’s when you caught sight of his dimly lit side profile under the lights of his car and through the tinted windows.
His eyes were on his phone until your figure blocked the streetlight that shined in his car, drawing his attention to your face as a smile spread over his own.
His eyes lit up like you were the candle to his soul, stepping out of the sleek black car to come around and give you a hug.
“Oh- hi,” you chuckled shyly, hands hesitating to wrap around him before he pulled away, looking you up and down while bracing your shoulders.
“Hi,” he smiled back, “I was just about to text you when you showed up at my window… nice black fit, by the way.”
“Thanks,” you said in a playful voice, watching as he opened the car door for you to get in.
“Would it be wrong of me to assume your panties match, too?,” he asked teasingly, joining you in the vehicle before pulling out of his parked position and cruising out of the neighborhood.
“Wow, you’re really representing this slut persona of yours, huh?” You teased back, putting on your seatbelt.
“Mostly because I can’t help it,” he shrugged, flashing you a smile before looking back at the road, “the fans ship us anyway, so we might as well commit to it, right?”
“Righttt,” you answered suspiciously, poking his thigh before looking back out the window, “gosh, this is crazy…”
“What is?”
“How long we’ve known each other and still happened to maintain a solid friendship despite the distance.”
“Yea,” he agreed, turning down a lane decorated with flowers that somehow still shined in the dark of the night, “We’d be fools to give up this bond we share, though… fools not to explore it further.”
He pulled into his driveway a few minutes later, showing you around his place before leading you to his bedroom, a familiar sight to you thanks to the streams.
“Oh- you’ve still got your monitors and mic set up?,” you asked curiously, noticing how the screen of his computer was on the streaming website.
“You remember what Danielle said on our last live? About us broadcasting in the same room together sometime…” he started shyly, pushing out another gaming chair for you to sit in.
“You really think it’s a good idea to stream right now?,” you rationalized, watching as he joined you in the nearby seat, “I mean, I’m obviously down for it, but what if my mom sees it again? Or Gisel—”
“I’ve already blocked your mom's account, ____, we should be fine,” he smiled, “and… if not… I’ll exchange another photo with your anonymous tipper for some forgiveness cash,” he shrugged, pouty lips making you melt a little inside. "Deal?"
You always knew that Heeseung was cute, but you didn’t think it was possible for him to get any better looking from behind the screen.
“Okay then,” you agreed with a sigh, hoping that your nerves would calm down once the broadcast started.
Almost instantly, 100 viewers joined when Heeseung pressed the “stream” button.
You both began with greeting everyone, trying to get past the chat’s excitement about finally getting to see you two in the same room together.
yxstar3ject: OMFG YALL ACTUALLY DID IT ❗️ this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤧
Chelbear03: holy fucking fuck, how is she so CALM NEXT TO HIM 😩
mrloverl0ver: everyone in favor of them playing truth or strip for us, spam the chat with W’s
pucca_princxss: hoon, you raging perv- WWWWWWWWWW XD
Chelbear03: ✨ W ✨
laylaspapi: W no homo wait, why's my name pink now ;-;
yxstar3ject: I took orange the other day ~ sawwy Jakey W <3
You watched as the chat box started to flood with W's and other random comments, feeling Heeseung sat a hand on your thigh as if to make you feel more comfortable.
"Alright peeps, chill out with the chat spamming, we see it," Heeseung said, laughing off some of the tension, "It's not like you guys didn't get a free show the other day, anyways," he added.
"I don't know..." you started, voice and logic trailing off as more letter W's filled the screen, "it might be fun?"
"____," Heeseung said more seriously this time, "it's a pointless game, y'know? We're honest with the fans... they already know most of secrets, so its silly to do truth or strip..."
"Great. That'll only make it more challenging for them to get our clothes off then," you smiled, suddenly feeling excited about playing, a bit of your competitiveness rubbing off on the initially cautious boy.
"Fine then... we'll do it," Heeseund said, eliciting a few viewers to send gifts to your broadcast, "I'm gonna need a drink for this first, though."
Heeseung was doing a good job of making it seem like he wasn't totally down for this, even though on the inside, he was mostly concerned with making sure you felt comfortable, too.
He left the room for a moment before coming back with two canned cocktails in his grip, placing them on his desk in front of you two.
"I'm guessing you don't drink much," he said, popping open a can of sugary fizz with his teeth while making eye contact with you, "so take it slow with this, yeah?"
"Sure, dad," you joked, taking a sip from the can, hoping that the alcohol would maintain your fleeting confidence, considering that you'd just agreed to strip in front of hundreds of people online.
Chelbear03: alr, first question heheh, starting easy !! :))) when was the last time you got upset and why
Chelsea was the first to initiate this little "truth or strip" questionnaire. Heeseung read the question out loud before humming to himself in thought.
“Hmm... maybe when I overcooked my ramen this morning?”
"Who eats ramen for breakfast?" You asked with a dry laugh.
"Don't judge me because I have good taste, ____," he replied, shoving your thigh with his knee a bit, "and you're dodging the question..."
"Oh- right," you chuckled shyly, thinking of what to say and whether to be honest, until you remembered the consequence would be to remove a piece of clothing.
“It was um... over some stupid things my stepsister was saying about a friend of mine… also this morning...”
"Does that friend so happen to be me by any chance?," Heeseung asked knowingly, giving you a look that you quickly brushed off.
"Moving on, next question!"
anonymous tipper: name the last person you hooked up with $100 donation on the line here, btw... plus someone's modesty 🙈
Oh God, you thought to yourself, dreading how this anonymous tipper knew you'd do almost anything for money.
It was really a bad trait of yours...
"Wow, just jumping to the extremes, aren't we?," Heeseung mumbled between a sip of his drink, the wet condensation drawing your attention to his glistening digits for a quick second.
How were you just now noticing how thick his fingers ar-
laylaspapi: uh oh someone looks nervous ...
pucca_princxss: mission accomplished 👹👹👹
In all honesty, you didn't really have an answer to that question, but to avoid coming off as prudish, you opted to take a pair of clothing off instead, lifting your hips in your seat to pull your pants down.
"____, what the-" Heeseung started before choking a bit on his drink, not just at your sudden boldness, but at the sight of your lace panties hugging the natural curves of your hips, pants getting bunched up at your ankles before you kicked them off under his desk.
yxstar3ject: 😭😭😭😭 DEFINITELY wasn't expecting that, oml-
Chelbear03: your turn, hee 🙏🙏🙏
Something about how frazzled your usually calm and collected best friend became at the simple act of you undressing before him gave you a feeling of exhilaration.
By now, your top barely covered the flesh of your thighs, a few commenters saying things about "wanting to take a bite" before Heeseung cleared his throat, hoping that they'd stop making things worse for him.
"Well uh, I'm not willing to strip a layer just yet, plus I could use the $100, so I'll be honest..."
The chat stalled momentarily as if everyone watching paused in eager anticipation of who and what Heeseung was going to say.
"It's been a while, I'll admit," he chuckled dryly, staring off as if envisioning it behind his sparkly eyes, "but it was around a year and a half ago... with a girl I'd rather not name, but she was a bit older than me..."
"Oh?," you accidentally said out loud, a strange feeling of happiness washing over you now that you knew he hadn't been with any girl since you two met reconnected. You're not sure why this information made you happy... or maybe you're just not ready to admit how you truly feel about him to yourself yet...
"How'd you two meet? Wait- why am I even asking that," you cringed at your own inevitable curiosity, Heeseung taking delight in how his timidness somehow rubbed back off onto you.
"Nah, it's okay... I'm sure the viewers wouldn't mind a little storytime-"
He adjusted his posture in the chair, eyes scanning a few new comments before he spoke, "I met her during my bad boy stage, I guess you could say... we bonded over the fact that we were both born in October until we eventually started smoking together at a friends house of mine every now and then... she and I were both going through some divorce drama with our parents and uh... we thought fucking would be a good emotional outlet? I don't know, maybe it was more of a distraction, I guess..."
Heeseung didn't expect himself to ramble the way he did, but he wanted you to know the main details, even though he left out a few parts for another time and conversation.
Chelbear03: what would it take for me to be that girl ? just for one night 😔
maindancertypeshit: pretty sure Hee just confirmed he's into older girls, Chels ... and ones with daddy issues at that-
You nearly snorted at the sudden comment, up until you realized who the last one came from.
"Excuse me, but what the hell is a toddler doing on this stream?" Heeseung asked sarcastically, obviously referring to Niki.
pucca_princxss: LMAO, looking for his mommy ofc 🤱 (😏)
maindancertypeshit: ayo, wtf??? so dani's allowed but I'm not?? hmph >:{
maindancertypeshit has left the stream
You sighed while laughing slightly, taking a sip of the drink as water droplets now dripped unto your thighs, Heeseung's eyes doing a terrible job of not staring.
"I say we do one more round before ending the stream," you offered, looking at the time as you knew you'd wanna spend more private time with Heeseung before having to run back home.
yxstar3ject: BOOOOOOOO :(
Chelbear03: im too pressed abt riki rn to give a damn bro did NAWT have to dish me the truth like that 😭😭
mrloverl0ver: ok ok, let's make this last question worth it then hmmm ...
Sunghoon typed in thought, just as the bulb in Heeseungs side lamp suddenly shattered, the loss of light coupled with it's piercing sound making you jolt in your seat, half of your canned cocktail spilling on your shirt and chest.
"Shit," Heeseung swore under his breath, happy that none of your drink or any glass from the lightbulb got on his streaming equipment.
That's when he noticed you shivering a bit, the cold liquid contrastingly with the warmth of your body.
"C-can you grab me a towel please?," you asked softly, Heeseung taking the can from your grasp and leaving the room with haste to grab a damp and dry cloth for you.
"Here," he offered when he came back, hooking his hands at the hem of your top and pulling it over your head in one swift movement, making you gasp out loud.
You were now half-naked in front of your best friend, not to mention the tons of people watching from their digital screens.
"Heeseung, what're you-"
He was now taking off his own shirt, holding it in one hand while he wiped your chest down with the cloths he held in the other.
There was something about the way his eyes looked while wiping down your boobs, coming off as romantic despite the awkward nature of the situation.
"Put this on," he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, snaking your head through the head hole of his T-shirt while he flicked the ceiling light on, your mind running in a hundred different directions in this moment.
You're not sure if it had something to do with the alcohol, but your skin still tingled in the spots where his fingertips grazed your flesh... just like old times...
You don't think you ever put on a T-shirt faster in your life, wanting to cover up as fast as you could despite how everyone had already gotten a free show from the both of you.
laylaspapi: B👀BS ?!?!? caught in 4k? just like that !?!??!????
mrloverl0ver: guess that means the games over now since y'all started stripping regardless ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
pucca_princxss: I think Heeseung's house might b haunted :'0
Chelbear03: HEESEUNGS FUCKING ABS RN- IS HE TRYING TO KILL ME !??!?
yxstar3ject: 👁👄👁
The chat was going crazy at this point, their flood of comments honestly being the last thing on your mind as you sat bottomless in Heeseung's gaming chair, wearing his T-shirt as he searched for another shirt somewhere behind you.
A billion emotions were coursing through your veins, still trying to grasp how you went from sneaking out your bedroom window, stripping in front of an audience, and getting flustered from the mere presence of Heeseung now.
"Alright guys, this was fun but we're gonna call it a night for now," Heeseung said as he came back into frame, not even bothering to sit back down as his right hand found the mouse, moving it towards the end stream button.
"Yeah, I think my streaming career might end here," you added jokingly, making Heeseung chuckle a bit at your words, his bright smile doing nothing but make your stomach flutter all over again.
What was going on with you?
"Who knows? Maybe we can work on starting an OnlyFans together ..."
"Heeseung-"
"I'm kidding," he laughed again, looking at your face from the screen, not even aware of how he bit his lip before speaking, "you look pretty on camera though, for what its worth."
The all-too familiar tune of the livestream ending rang in your ears, the screen displaying stats of the broadcast engagement, which surpassed any and every stream you've ever filmed before.
"Wow," Heeseung marveled, just as he shut his computer off.
"I know," you added, stretching your back while sitting, "we don't even reach stats like that in a week..."
"I wasn't talking about the ratings, ____," he returned, the room seeming much more quiet now that the computer was off, even though it's been this way the whole time.
"Enough about that, though," he started again, taking your hands in his to pull you out of the chair, "I haven't been a very good host to you this evening... making you work first thing before properly treating you... allow me to make up my lacking..."
"I mean... you gave me a nice seat and something to drink... you even lended me one of your shirts after I made a big mess of myself," you replied while giggling, feeling silly as he held both of your hands while speaking formally all of a sudden.
"Yes, yes, but I'm serious," he continued, now guiding you down to the rug lying in the middle of his bedroom floor, "you still like candy, right?"
ALMOST ANOTHER HOUR had passed and it was somewhere around midnight give or take, you and Heeseung hardly feeling tired as you sat on the mat together, alternating between eating orange slices and gummy bears.
You were propped up on your elbows, a glow still present on his face from the laughter you've shared together so far, even though there was something less innocent you wanted to get off your chest.
You were feeling completely reckless already, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to push things a little further.
Besides, it’s not everyday that a girl like you gets an opportunity like this just placed in her lap.
It's just like Heeseung said, you'd be a fool to give up this bond you two share and not explore it further...
Plus, you weren't sure how much longer you could hide behind the good girl act.
Giselle was right: Heeseung had sex written in full length parables all up and down his six-foot-something body, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.... if you said it didn't reel you in, like a burning desire to explore what's corrupted.
To be ruined.
"Heeseung," you started, making him look down at you as he sat with his legs crossed, hair messy from the amount of times he ran a hand through it, "can I ask you something?... It's... kinda personal..."
He popped another strawberry flavored gummy bear into his mouth, "As long as it isn't about your period, I should be good to help you then," he chuckled slightly.
"And what makes you think that I need help with something?"
"Hmm… maybe just that way that your nails keep picking with my wrist watch right now," he answered quietly, drawing your attention to your fingers which tend to get busy whenever you were nervous.
"Oh- I... I didn't even realize...," you laughed at yourself, shying your hands away before sitting up and hiding them in your lap.
"Well go on," he urged, looking back at you with warmth in his eyes, taking off his glasses and setting them aside, "What'd you wanna ask me?"
You let out a breath, clenching your thighs a bit as your sight fell between his legs.
Fuck, did he just laugh? God, he definitely noticed your peeking... you fucking perver-
"I don't really know how to word this but..." you chewed on your lip in thought, "Sometimes... when it's just you and me alone like this... even when we're just video chatting... I feel," you looked up at the ceiling as if it'd help you divulge, "I don't really know what to call it."
He blinked at your words, adjusting his sitting position on the ground, "Are there certain things I do or say that make you feel... whatever it is that you can't explain?" He asked, tilting his head at you, just as his hand inched closer to you on the rug, but not quite touching your skin yet.
"Its a few things, actually-"
"Like what?" His hand was now on your thigh, eyes glued on your shaky figure even though you avoided eye contact, lost in the veins that trailed the pretty skin of his arm.
"When you touch me," you whispered so quietly, the only reason he heard you was because he read your lips, thinking in his own mind what it'd be like to taste them, "like that."
"Speak up for me, I can hardly hear you," he urged, almost as if cooing at you.
"I can't," you said shakily, chest expanding slightly with each heavy breath you took in and let out.
Your idea of being bold was starting to backfire... if only you could stop being so awkward about this for one second-
"It's just me, ____," he whispered with a slight chuckle this time, your hands finding the fluffy rug beneath you as your skin still stung from where he'd last touched you, "be as honest with me as you need."
"Maybe it's best we just pretend I never said anything," your voice trailed off, regretting having looked into his dark eyes that stared back at yours because you felt as though your shield had faltered, his energy coaxing your mind to wander.
"Would you mind if I took a guess?," Heeseung offered with an expression you couldn't read, but you nodded anyway, just as his hand traveled further up your thigh, your breath hitching in your chest as you felt his finger tips meet your core.
"You feel something in here, don't you?," he whispered again, "Hurts, doesn't it?"
Like hunger pains, you answered in your head, finding his shoulder as half of you thought to push him away while the other half just needed to touch him.
You nodded shyly in response, thankful that he didn't move any further so you could catch your breath, already too effected by his actions.
"I feel it sometimes, too. The aching... but I'm sure you're old enough to know there's only one way to get rid of it."
You didn't even have to ask to know what he was implying, feeling tempted to give in to whatever this urge was.
He was right though. It did ache, and so badly, your own core tearing up with a need you never intended to entertain.
That's when his touch creeped closer to your core, your thighs closing around his hand as you struggled to think clearly.
You almost couldn't in a state like this.
It baffled you how the energy was starting to change, but it was only a matter of time that you'd be able to sit bottom less in front of Heeseung looking the way he does before something sexual would happen.
"Are you willing to let me help you?" He asked, gripping your flesh between his hands as a shy sound fell from your lips.
You were having second thoughts.
"As much as I'd like to, Hee, it just doesn't seem right anymore..."
Even though this was all your idea to begin with-
"But doesn't it feel right?" he pressed, feeling his hands gently pry your thighs back open, but its not like you were putting up much of a fight either, "Besides, you wouldn't have told me if you didn't want me to do something about it..."
In this moment, you couldn't care less about maintaining that fleeting sense of virtue all the elders in your life harped on growing up.
You were simply young, horny, lovesick, and in need of a release.
Before you knew it, your legs were parted for him, your back against the rug as his head got comfortable at your heat, fingers barely grazing over your now bare cunt before he started leaving plush kisses against your sweet spot.
The ache was definitely still there, but having him this close to you made it feel better.
Almost too good, honestly…
“Heeseung-” you cried out, clamming your thighs around his head as you felt his thick and warm tongue enter you.
Hooking his hands at your knees, it helped to open you back up for him, feeling your stomach tighten as he continued to lick you down.
“I’m still here, baby…” he cooed, looking back up at you, just as your phone started to ding, "relax for me, alright?"
It was a few random messages here and there, you being too pleasure-drunk to give a damn as he continued lapping at your slick, alternating between one and two fingers as he teased your hole, only making you want more.
“Fuck…s- someone’s calling me,” you whined, propping up on your elbows with tired eyes as you reached for your phone, seeing none other than Giselle's contact number as Heeseung left your core, getting on his knees and unbuckling his belt.
"What're you-"
Your words were cut off as he leaned closer into you, his bulge resting in between your folds as he looked into your eyes and said, "Answer it."
He was already rocking against your pussy as you struggled to stay focused, his boxers being covered in your slick just from how wet you'd gotten, even though you nodded no.
“You want me to help you, don’t you?” He continued, completely aware of your stalling and hesitance as the phone continued to ring, your breathing only getting heavier as he kept grinding against you.
You bit your lip, clenching around nothing as his fingers cascaded over your sensitive spot. Heeseung practically drooled at the sight, your tight little cunt all slick and messy for him.
"Hello?" Giselle asked over the phone, "where the hell are you right now?"
Fuck.
You watched nervously as Heeseung pulled his boxers past his hips, his thickness springing up now that it was finally free to breathe.
"What're you talking about, I was just in my room," you lied terribly, watching Heeseung with pleading eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance, bracing a hand on you lower abdomen while glaring back at you, a glint of playfulness in his doe eyes.
Oh, the way you wanted to smack him across his pretty face right now-
"I wasn't born yesterday, ____. I checked your room an hour ago and you're still not here. Tell me where you are," she continued, voice cracking a bit as you winced through a bitten lip, thanks to Heeseung somehow having slid his thickness inside you.
Well, most of the way, at least...
"____?"
"Y-yes, I'm listening, just- don't worry about me, I'll be back in a bit-"
"That still doesn't answer my question, ____..."
Thud.
You accidentally dropped your phone beside your head once Heeseung pushed all the way in now, leaving a few kisses along your neck to help you calm down.
His hips were still, but for some reason, your breathing remained shaky beneath him, your step-sister still awaiting your reply on the other side of the phone.
"Call you later," you said in a squeaky voice, reaching over to hang up the phone as Heeseung started to move again, your legs trembling a bit as the nerves in your mind traveled through your whole body.
"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked sarcastically, hand following a trail from your waist, over your boob, then to your neck, goosebumps sprouting on your skin as you suddenly felt cold, your body internally shivering.
"Hee," you said with a whimper, feeling his grip loosen around your neck before he started thrusting into your walls, your slick providing just enough lubrication for him to slide in and out easily.
You couldn't even think in your mind at this point, his actions already becoming more than you could handle given how new everything was.
How nice he felt.
"C'mon, don't get quiet on me now, baby, I just started," he teased, slamming his pelvis against yours to hopefully reel a moan out of you, which obviously worked, your hand flying up to grip the fluffy rug over your head as it became harder to hide your sounds.
He hissed at the feeling of you clenching around him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked into your eyes.
"So either you like it when I'm rough with you or when I call you baby..." he started in a low voice, "which is it?"
"M-maybe both... now can you stop trying to turn me on with your words for one fucking second?," you asked with labored breaths, feeling your orgasm creep up on you a lot sooner than anticipated.
Sure, this was your first time, but you were glad he didn't treat you like a baby during the whole thing.
There was just something about the way his voice sounded in this moment, the way he was rutting into you like a horny teenager that took you over the edge.
And he was being such a tease, trying to make you talk knowing that your sentences would be broken and whiney thanks to how rough he was going.
He wanted to hear you falling apart underneath him.
He let out the most attractive chuckle you'd ever heard at your words, "But I can tell it's working," he smirked, bracing himself against the floor so you could wrap your legs around him better, "now quit your complaining and keep taking me like a good girl, alright?"
You're sure your clit started doing backflips at the pet-name, coupled with the pretty sounds he was very intentionally humming beneath your ear.
He found your wrists on the rug, sliding up to your hands and interlacing his fingers with yours,
“Stop trying to act tough, I can tell this is all new to you…. don’t even know what to do with your hands, huh?” his said, watching as your eyes get lost in the view of his shaggy hair.
He snickered, “you can touch it if you want…”
Fuck, you thought to yourself. You don’t know why you felt the need to put on some act for him… maybe it was because you assumed a competition between yourself and other girls he’s been with, even though in reality, you’d been the only girl on his mind for a while now.
“I…,” you started with a stutter, “I can’t.”
Your fingers were still interlaced with his, but your inability to touch him had less to do with the fact that he had you pinned down, and more so to do with your nerves.
As badly as he wanted to keep toying with your head in this moment, he could you were getting closer from how your breath kept hitching, so he didn’t have much time to play.
Releasing his grip from your hands, he brought a thumb to your chin, tapping at it for you to open your mouth, “I’m gonna speed up now then, okay?”
He choked out, his own head becoming a little fuzzy as you parted your lips obediently for him, the sight of your tongue laving at his fingers being enough to make him feel like cumming.
He knew you had to get home quick now, but he still wanted to give you the best orgasm of your life.
Once he collected enough of your spit on his fingers, he slid his hand down, circling your swollen bud while looking into your eyes, your hands automatically flying to his shoulders to brace yourself.
“Fuck, Heeseung~,” you cursed with furrowed brows, whimpers that almost sounded like high pitched hiccups falling from your lips as you felt your hips chase his.
There was so much energy coursing through both of your bodies that it could charge your dying phone on the floor right now.
“It’s okay baby, you’re almost- shit, you’re almost there,” he grunted weakly as he continued fucking into your walls with his fingers at your clit, his own eyes closing at how good your tightness felt around him.
You never heard yourself sound like this before, getting all whiny just as he whispered the words “Come for me” against your neck, sealing the space with a kiss and retreating his hand from your core, holding you in place as your orgasm hit like a flood.
You were squirming so much, walls pulsating like a drum as he kissed you down, your hands finally being brave enough to grip at his hair while he rode out your high.
You could tell that he didn’t finish inside you, but he was nice enough to slow down and not fuck you completely stupid.
“I can’t even believe we just did that,” you mumbled mindlessly, eyes staring back at him as he started to gently caressed your cheek.
“Wasn’t too bad for a quickie though, right?,” he asked jokingly while still inside you, not quite yet ready to pull out of your comforting warmth.
To say goodbye to the you he brought out in this sex-filled space.
“No… it wasn’t bad at all,” you smiled back, words sounding somewhere in between a shocking realization and sincere compliment.
“Then I guess that means we can look forward to doing this more often-”
“Heeseung-”
“Kidding,” he whispered softly, meeting your lips in one last kiss before leaning back up to adjust his pants, “now let’s get you cleaned up and ready for home before your mom has me crucified.”
“Okay,” you said while laughing slightly until he pulled out of you, your legs trembling a bit from the missing fullness.
From the feeling in his chest, Heeseung came to fully accept that he was 110% in love with you, not giving a flying fuck about the naysayers who’d disapprove of your now-even-more-complicated friendship.
You on the other hand, came to realize that Heeseung was worth much more than being judged by a bunch of hypocrites, and that you now had the courage to make a lot of your own decisions now, even if they’re solely for the sake of pleasure.
”Still,” you continued, watching as he stood up from the ground to grab a pack of wipes from his desk, “I just remembered that I locked my bedroom window when I left.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” He asked while parting your legs, wiping your sweaty thighs down with your panties hunched up in his other hand.
You admired the view of him cleaning you up with adoration flooding your heart, your limbs letting themselves relax as feathery words fell from your lips, “It means I might have to spend the night at your place for a little longer…”
Fin…
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♱ Thank you beyond words to everyone reading this right now! I teased the release of this fic a while ago but ended up changing almost everything that I’d originally written because it was kinda shitty 🥴 but hopefully you all enjoyed this fic anyway! Also, masterlist is here !!
♱ tag list: @fakeuwus @adeoluhh @zerasari @anonant @yaatrickyaaa @depressedandobsessed666 @woninluv @moonshoon @imjakes-wifeofc1 @heesbee @kaykay11sworld @wannieepisod @ilikekpop-c @heesoo11 @idkdykilr @seungjiseyo @nctislifue @ro-diaries @heesushiii @jakehooni @babygirlmarshmellow @jaysdze @princeseung @flowerbe0m @skzenhalove @rayofsunshineeee @wonsbaer @namdeyuoi @tasnim10 @cheruluv @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @yourmomscuntis2tighy @ashgonedash
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hannieehaee · 2 months
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18+ / mdi
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content: loser!chan, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 1420
a/n: my favorite chan is back<33
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
masterlist
loser!chan who was now thoroughly and utterly addicted to you to the point where he couldn't function unless he had his daily dosage of you.
ever since that first encounter, chan knew that he would never get enough of you, but it wasn't until that fated day in which you finally took his virginity that chan knew that he was thoroughly fucked.
he couldn't think of anything but you. during any lulls in class, his mind would go straight to you and all the things the two of you could do together. when he woke up in the middle of the night, it was in a cold sweat as he awoke from a filthy dream about you. even in the moments you were in front of him, in the most innocent of circumstances, his mind would go straight to the gutter.
you had ruined former chan.
after that first time experiencing what it felt like to be with a pretty girl like you, chan had become instantly addicted to the feeling, now constantly seeking you out as much as possible.
he had become a bit of a pervert, in short terms.
instead of you seeking him out, knowing chan was too shy to do it on his own, the dynamic had shifted. now chan would text you asking to come over every other night. he'd occasionally beg you for nudes any time he you were too busy to see him. and the best worst of all had been a few days ago, when you'd caught him sniffing your panties after the two of you had slept together.
chan couldn't lie. he did become a depraved version of himself through the months in which he'd been fooling around with you. it had all just hit a peak when you took his virginity. he now understood why everyone around him was so obsessed with sex. and he believed himself to be insane for not having lost his virginity sooner. except he was thankful he hadn't, because that meant that he now had the most gorgeous girl to please and to please him in return.
at first you seemed surprised by the change, gasping whenever chan would try and take charge and jump you as soon as you stepped into the threshold of his dorm room. but you clearly seemed to enjoy it, feeding into it by teasing him or enticing him into fucking you faster and harder. you'd even left behind a few pairs of panties after having noticed that first missing pair.
~
"m-more, fuck. please ... p-push it back, i need it," he mumbled against your cunt, lazily licking at it from behind.
his arms were holding onto your hips, dragging them against his face as he ate you out.
this was yet another thing chan had recently grown infatuated with – eating you out.
whether it was day or night, chan would take any possible opportunity to get himself between your legs or bend you over in order to get his mouth on your cunt. these escapades would always result in the two of you fucking like animals on the bed, but nowadays chan always insisted in eating you out beforehand.
it was always quite a filthy sight, the way in which he'd still whine and beg for you, even when he didn't get any gratification from the act. crying against your cunt, he'd get more desperate by the minute, forcing you to arch your back more so he could get an even better angle to lick and suckle at you.
like now, as he manhandled you to his desired position in the same fashion of a petulant child, demanding things go his way. you aided him, grinding against his face, only causing him to groan against you yet again.
"cum for me?", he mumbled against you, "wanna taste it so bad ..." he pulled away for a moment, simply staring at your cunt, "its so pretty ... fuck, your cunt's so fucking good to me," he moaned before going back at it even more intensely this time.
it didn't take long for you to cum for him. with the combination of praise and his messy way of eating you out, it was impossible for you to hold back. the worst part was how he moaned and thanked you as he licked every drop of arousal coming out of you. the combination of praise and pleasure made the experience entirely blinding, eventually forcing you to drop on the bed in exhaustion.
he climbed over you, giving you a nasty kiss so you could taste yourself on his tongue.
after months of seeing each other, chan had perfected the art of those messy, wet kisses he loved to share with you so much. sometimes he'd even have to hold back from giving you short and sweet kisses while in public, knowing that his tongue might sneak into your mouth and create a scene of public indecency.
equally as depraved as him, you grabbed onto his hair and pushed his face against your own, moaning as you suckled on his tongue. you made out and felt each other up for some minutes until chan's hands grew too greedy, attempting to flip you over so that he could fuck you from behind.
this was yet another new development in your relationship.
having taken his virginity only some months back, you had shown chan every position you could think of, teaching him the ins and outs in order to optimize his pleasure. as time passed, he became more confident in his ability to fuck you, now often opting to fuck you rather than have you take full control (though he still went crazy any time you manhandled him and rode him all the way to oblivion)
positioning you, he ignored the thought of a condom altogether, having been informed by you that you had a iud and did not feel the need to ever use one with him. chan was yet to know what it was like to fuck with one, and he didn't ever want to find out.
he also learned that he enjoyed teasing you. this would usually take form in him rubbing the tip of his cock against your folds, making you whine and push back against him to get him to slide in.
rubbing himself against you, he hissed at the warmth he felt at barely dipping his tip in a tiny bit. you were always so wet and warm for him. only him. the thought made him push in with no warning, needing to feel the physical manifestation of how much you were his.
groaning at the feeling, he leaned forward, pressing up against your back as he fucked into you. the feeling of naked skin against naked skin was one of his favorite things. he couldn't help but fall in love with the intimacy of it.
"how do you feel s-so fucking good?" he groaned, pace of his hips going crazy against your ass.
"you, channie ... you do this to me. so good. such a good boy," you sighed.
even when he was in control, you managed to take it right back with just your words. your claims of ownership over him along with your praise were things he could no longer live without. he loved that you had been the only person to claim him. he was enamored with the fact.
"y-yeah? i think its you. you gorgeous, gorgeous girl. im yours? y'know what?", he leaned as close to your ear as he could, "you're all mine too."
whining at this, you tightened around him, making him lose his composure yet again. this had been the first time he had rebutted at your usual mumbles of him being your good boy. and he loved it. he loved knowing that even as he was your good boy, you were his pretty girl. his and no one could ever have you again.
continuing to hump against each other like wild animals in heat, your highs came to you at an almost equal speed, optimizing your orgasms all the better.
chan fell limp on the bed, being immediately dragged by you so you could lay by his side and cuddle him like you always did. your aftercare of him always made him cry inside. you took care of him so well, giving him all the affection a boy like him could ever hope for.
the usual i love you's were shared, falling into your slumber without having enough energy to even clean up.
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ellecdc · 2 months
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The Winner Takes it All (you don't need to compete for the boys) + The Loser Has To Fall (companion piece) Swim Lessons (meet cute with swim instructor marauders) When One Door Closes (the boys support you as you end your toxic relationship) Hard Softie (you're feisty to everyone except your boys) 🫧 I wasn't running from you (slytherin reader feels insecure) Sweet Tooth (you love baking for the boys, and they love you) Beginnings (feisty reader stealing the 💖 of the only one not already in love) 🫧 Overthinking (you're convinced they're mad at you) The beginning (how feisty!readers relationship with the boys started) Where'd you go? (whimsical!reader wanders off) 🫧 What did you See? (Seer fem!reader Sees a happy domestic life) 🫧 -> Saw Bad (their oldest child inherits seer!reader's abilities) Our little gremlin (fem!readers sense of humour mini blurb) Sirius' Arch Nemesis (fem!reader finds a kitten) 🫧 The Sound of Music (muggle born gn!reader x poly!marauders) Two Steps Forward (fem!reader struggling with mental health, hurt/comfort, fluff) 🫧 Marauders + your younger sibling headcanons It's been you? (when they find out their gf is a secret animagus) Sight's Set (Seer slytherin fem!reader Sees a new relationship with the boys) raising harry with poly!marauders? (how that might look feat. whimsical fem!reader) James & Sirius & Remus & Lily &...you? (poly!marauders + lily x fem!reader) -> shy!reader's first date with the marauders + lily -> shy!reader doesn't know about Remus' furry little problem [marauders + lily] -> shy!reader learns about Remus' furry little problem [miscom trope] Slimy (the boys meet whimsical!readers pet snake for the first time) who are you talking to? (they find out their date talks to her cat) Too Much (marauders + lily x their shy!reader who gets overwhelmed) we've got you (the boys help gn!reader through an epileptic seizure)
🫧 = elle’s favourites
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cupcakeinat0r · 3 months
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A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class.
pt.3
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Prof. O’Hara who now tutors you on certain weekdays. You two have grown close, not afraid to exchange little glances here and there throughout class.
And when he tutors you, he’ll sometimes migrate to the back of your seat while you practice formulas, and he’d rake his thick fingers through your scalp lovingly. You’d close your eyes, leaning into him, his belly acting as your pillow as he messaged your head and finger-brushed your hair. He’s speaking softly to you, going on and on about genetic variations and whatnot but you aren’t getting a single word, yet you hum ‘mhm’ occasionally just so that he feels like you’re listening.
Granted, if someone were to walk in and see you two like this, it would surely end in a mess, but truthfully, it was an innocent act. It was intimate, yes, but he didn’t think there was any harm in playing with your hair while he tutored. He just wanted to make sure his fav girl was relaxed while learning.
After he took you out to grab a snack when you broke down, you started bringing little treats with you to school so that you could leave them with him after a class or tutoring session.
Saying it was to ‘repay him for his generosity that day’ was only half of it, the other being that you had it so so so bad for your adorable genetics professor, and you found out that his guilty pleasure is sweet treats.
What you don’t know is that, really, it’s you. You’re his guilty pleasure. He gets so ruffled anytime you leave a little pastry wrapped in a cute bow on his desk. He’d look at the tiny gift as if it were a specimen, unable to do or say anything except clear his throat and fix his glasses as he blurts out a measly “t-thank you, hun!”
Miguel never knew what to do with himself with this new sweet gesture of yours (except maybe pump himself in his office just from the mere fact that you gave him something). It was silly, really. You had this serious grump flustered over pastries.
And you knew he’d surely lose his job if you made any monumental advances, and leaving him treats was the most innocent thing you could afford to do in public, so you settled for this. Besides, it’ll all contribute to his ass DadBod, so it’s a win win.
On the other hand, Miguel didn’t know for how long he’d be able to settle for this or how much longer he can play with your hair. It felt like as the days go by, you become prettier, smarter, lovelier, kinder, sexier…. It was all too much. He had an itch.
One day, the class had a quiz. You had finished earlier than everyone else, and began online shopping while you waited for the others to finish. Miguel was walking around the hall in case anyone needed help, and he noticed you were looking at a certain skirt and top.
He took a mental note of it.
You come into his office the next day for tutoring and find a pink gift bag on his desk adorned by more pink tissue paper.
“Just uh… a little something for all your hard work, mama.” He muttered, the most adorable, shy smile on his flushed face.
You were thrilled to find the skirt and top you were looking at just the day before. You instantly go to hug him, the second time you two would hug. Miguel feels a little more prepared for this one, and this time, even peppers the tiniest kiss on top of your head, your body engulfed in his fluffy arms and soft belly.
That was the first of many gifts to come, and you’d find a gift bag in every tutoring session you had with him from then on.
You’d walk into class wearing the things he’d buy you, inflicting the hardest boner on him when you do. He was like a sick puppy when looking at you, sporting your new necklace, for example. He would get stuck in a dream-like state imagining how it would look dangling, swinging with each pound of his slow thrusting into your tight pussy.
It would be slow. He wanted to treasure you, savor you. An angel like you deserved princess treatment, and he’d make sure that’s what you received. He’d worship you. He’d press a trail of kisses from your sternum down to your pelvic, looking up at you through his bifocals as he does, then removing them just before he makes dinner of your cunt. You’d cum multiple times before he even thinks about fucking you with his own cock, putting your pleasure before his. He wouldn’t be able to stop blabbering about how pretty you look like this, under him. How beautiful you are. How good you are for him. How much he wants, no… loves you. He’d be such a loser, but he’d be your loser. All yours.
His fantasies are shooed away, as well as his dazed smile when he sees someone approach you. A boy.
He seems to really like you. He’s a good looking boy. He was closer to your age. He was very fit. Miguel wants to be upset. He wants to be jealous, but… he technically can’t. You aren’t his. Far from it. and maybe it should stay that way. The boy would be good for you. Miguel sees you smile back at him. Sweet girl. You two would make the cute couple. You probably deserve him. Yea…
What was he thinking that he, some science professor who had let himself go, would have a chance with you, the most beautiful girl in the entire world?
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
A/n: sorry not sorry that I keep edging y’all, Mwheheheheheheh <3 Still, I hope u like it <3
Also, @little-lovelace , looking for this, luv??? <3
Next part (head canons)
Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!!
Gna start taggin cuties, lmk if u wanna b tagged 4 next one <3
@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive
@faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi
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