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#all hands-on of course heheh)
sysig · 3 months
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Blind side (Patreon)
#Doodles#UT#Handplates#Sans#Papyrus#Gaster#Sans closing his good eye every once in a while and keeping his blind eye open - obviously he does so in-game as well so it's a style-match#It's just interesting in the context of him being textually-confirmed blind in Handplates hehe#There's a level of vulnerability there! Not more than closing both eyes around someone - and potentially also distrust!#''I'm baring myself blind right now but /you/ don't need to know that'' - it suits him ♪#Especially when he does it around Papyrus! Because obviously Papyrus knows about his partial blindness#But when he's trying to be duplicitous - the way he looks at him sidelong with his blind eye when he's trying to lie unsuccessfully ugh <3#And again-again it being about how much he trusts Papyrus! That he can be a little lazy or spacey and Papyrus will help him!#Also something about his entire right side being impaired - pawing around with his plated hand for something he can't see on that side#The dynamics! Internal and external! Very good like them lots#And then there's Gaster lol ♪ Throw him into the mix I'm sure it won't make a mess at all haha#I guess he's visiting? Just spacing out - he and Sans have a lot on their minds - separately haha#I do love how Sans pushes Gaster to be kind to Papyrus - very deservedly! He wants Papyrus to be happy of course#And he's obviously still angry with Gaster a lot but how might that present itself when Papyrus is Papyrus at Gaster hehe#Even just in that small jokey way of ''you tryin' to step on my turf?'' hehehe#Especially since the comparison wouldn't even come up if he had two functioning eyes hm?? Right Gaster???? Lol#Speaking of that scene and Sans' partial blindness tho ughhughuhg <3 <3 The fact that Sans stands with Gaster to his blind side#It's the vulnerability/distaste/confidence of it all! He's grown up so much it's all right there in how he holds himself#That he either trusts Gaster enough not to attack him - starting to believe him - or that he has enough faith in himself to protect himself#And only looking at him with his peripherals unless he looks directly at him hghhhgh I am Normal about shot composition I swear lol#Also I like how that last panel turned out lol - Sans just appears at the bottom of the steps like how's it going. care to gtfo thx
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bumblingbabooshka · 7 months
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"Everything you went through was meaningless." [St Voyager S3 E7: 'Sacred Ground']
#Serving Jesus realness#star trek screenshots#Janeway#iconic that all the aliens are like 'damn....that's crazy....anyway-' about Janeway HEHEHE they're like snickering behind their hands#I would be too honestly if some outsider tried to speedrun my ancient spiritual rituals#Love the vibe of 'this could all be hazing' they're putting out. Also I keep seeing the face paint on the guide woman as like a mic#honestly this woman's fucking hilarious HEHEHE#Janeway: I'm dying. / Alien Guide: We all die someday :) <- lady who just told her to stick in her hand in a poison jar#AHAHAHA THEY REALLY DID HAZE HER...I love these guys they're so nahnahnahbooboo-core#also the refrain 'Everything you went through was meaningless' ..... thinking BIG thoughts about post-voyager voy crew back on earth#I really do earnestly love the gleeful contempt vibe...it just seems so right. In a funny way but also in a way that's deeply true#the feeling of trying to find answers while you universe laughs and says there are none - it's meaningless - but you're welcome to go ahead#and try. If you find God you have the feeling it would just stare at you blankly. Then laugh.#Chakotay: Captain I've been so worried about you! Have you found a solution? / Janeway: Absolutely. I'm going to walk into the death shrine#Chakotay: (internally hysterical) Oh of COURSE!!!! no of COURSE she's going to walk into the DEATH SHRINE!!!!#great imagery in this one <3 folks who love religious imagery (me) will get a kick outta this one <3#anyway I love when star trek does hopeful eps like this...makes me tear up like. Yeah there could be a scientific explanation but that#doesn't make it MORE true or MORE real than the religious one - it's just as valid to believe in the spirits#Also those three old creeps were lovely <3 scared me and I like that! existential dread!
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padfootastic · 8 months
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your first fic was a dramione fic?? 😭😭 (interesting 👀)
ahahaha is someone going down a stalking rabbit hole 💀 there’s a lot of content lol
but iirc, my first fic was a letter between remus and sirius 🤔 but that’s ffn material! i just checked and yep, on ao3 it’s dramione. i remember feeling soooo ~naughty bc it was kinda explicit but now i cringe even thinking about it lol
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targaryenluvs · 4 months
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RAVAGE
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pairing: dark!president!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader
summary: he’d won the election, much to your elation. now you’d have to navigate the fame, fortune and status as the first lady of panem. but coriolanus just wanted you all to himself, and he’d do anything to scare you into his arms.
warnings: possessiveness, murder, robbery, bad smut, controlling, tears, babying, kisses, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, kinda subby corio/dom, praise, sense of entitlement? breeding kink, tummy bulge, overstimulation, little bit of aftercare
word count: 2k
a/n: i’m such a bitch for making everyone wait so long for a delicate part two 😌 and i finally have the confidence for smut so heheh - yes i’m using tvd names a lot - corio/coryo use - tried out a new layout 👀
part one of delicate
you couldn’t believe it.
coriolanus snow, president of panem.
all of his hard work has finally paid off and you couldn’t be more happy for him. you wanted to give him a gift but you still had no idea what he would want. it seemed the two of you practically had everything overnight, so a measly gift seemed to be difficult to acquire, one that he liked? even harder.
so you’d decided to go out, the idea of surprising him exciting you so much you’d forgotten to tell coriolanus where you were going to.
so imagine his surprise when his assistant told him you’d left the house, viewing you on the security cameras.
which you had no idea were there.
coriolanus saw it as an act of defiance.
he had to move about this correctly, he couldn’t have you injured, but he needed to scare you back into his arms. to remind you of the horrible place that panem was.
over twelve stores, and nothing. so you’d decided to enlist the help of one of your few friends. “not a single clue of what he’d want?” elena asked as you stabbed at your fries, “nope.” you answered as you placed a fry in your mouth.
“well if he has absolutely everything then his gorgeous wife should be a nice gift after an extremely long day no?” you looked up at her, confused, “what do you mean?” she giggled, “oh god, i forget how you don’t know that much. you, y/n.” at your adorable puppy face she leaned in, “your body.” you jumped back at her words, “i… i’ve never.”
“you’ve never?!” elena slapped her hand over her mouth at your admission, “how? i mean you’re absolutely stunning sweetheart, how hasn’t he yet?” you played with the table cloth in your hands, “i don’t know.” elena twisted her fork around her pasta, “okay has he never made a move, or, have you never noticed the signs?” you took a sip of your wine as you stared back at her, “what signs?” elena sighed, rubbing her temple, “there are signs, moments. the two of you, sitting on the couch and his hand trails higher. his breath quickens at the sight of you in a dress. the little things.”
“and what happens if you notice these signs, act on them?” and this was exactly her expertise, she wiped her face with her napkin before paying the bill. “if i’m going to explain this in detail then we need to go to my house. or a dirtier part of town. my dear girl, i’m taking you to your first ever bar.”
coriolanus has to hold on to his mask of self-restraint, you’d been spotted at a bar, with one of your friends that he despised. but at least his plan could take full effect without a hitch.
your mind had been blown, irrevocably and utterly blown. the way elena had described it all, she made it sound like heaven. but she did tell you about other men, some care for themselves more so than the girl. and you had no clue what type of man corio was in bed.
you’d been so absorbed in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed the man following you, not until he attacked you. he’d been going after your bag of course, but it was a gift from coriolanus. the man was unrelenting as he shoved you against the cold wall, grimy hands pushing and pulling with you as you tried to regain hold of your purse. “let go!” you cried out before he slammed you into the wall again, loosing grip on the purse coriolanus had just gifted you.
what would he say? it was his gift to you!
you woke up with a throbbing headache and corios hands brushing away strands from your face. “there you are sweet thing. you feeling okay?” you peered up at him, unable to move due to the millions of blankets on you. noticing your struggle he smiled before shifting them off, “better?” you nodded before sitting up with his help.
“corio, i lost the bag you gave me. the bad guy he- i’m so so sorry. please don’t be mad with me i didn’t mean to-“ he laughed, although it didn’t reach his eyes, “you think i care about the bag y/n/n? i could buy you a million bags, better bags. i’m just glad you’re okay. those guys, they won’t bother you again.” all you could do was sob and hug him, pondering the meaning of his words.
AN HOUR AGO
“hey, what the hell man? you said to attack the girl and take the bag!” the man shouted as coriolanus undid his cuffs, adjusted his sleeve, pushing it back on both arms. “i told you to go for the bag, yes. but i specifically remember drilling it into your head not to hurt her. and now she’s lying in bed, has been for the past three house with bruises everywhere. and for that?”
shouts and screams of pain echoed through the abandoned building as coriolanus struck the man with a hammer, over and over and over. the job had one guideline. and this idiot couldn’t get it right.
don’t hurt his delicate girl.
PRESENT
you’d been so absorbed with worrying over the purse and apologising for your tears you hadn’t noticed corios hungry eyes. “i really did like that purse.” he murmured, “oh corio, i should’ve tried harder to keep it. what can i do?” hook, line and sinker. he had you where he wanted and he’d finally get what he deserved.
“let me fuck you. please.” and who were you to say no? your naivety led to him laying you down on the bed, head between your thighs. you’d heard about it from elena, a man pleasuring a woman, but it was a million times better than you could’ve imagined. coriolanus was messy, and desperate. he’d been waiting for so long and god was it worth it.
his heart raced with both excitement and nervousness as he held your thighs in his own hands, tracing up and downwards, feeling the warmth against his own skin. coriolanus couldn't resist the opportunity to tease you. “you wanna cum?” corio mumbled as he continued sucking on your swollen clit, “mhm.” you could hear him laughing at your pathetic excuse of agreeing.
coriolanus wholeheartedly believes you belong to him. the second you were married, and even before, you were his. your submission would prove it, and he would do anything for it. you were his and he was yours. his bold blue eyes ravished you, all of you, “who’s making you feel this good?” your hips squirmed away from him but he just pulled you back, pushing two fingers into you.
corio reveled in your naivety, the way you responded to his touch, the way you whispered dirty words as if it were a sin. and right now, you still couldn’t bring yourself to name what you needed. his pace was brutal as he lapped at your cunt, a third finger curling inside of you as they went in and out. your gasps and cries were music to his ears, he’d been denied this all too long, and he wasn’t sure how he’d ever done it. “cmon, say it.” and you did, over and over again. “it’s you! you, coryo.”
“coryo, ah, your fingers feel so good,” you mewled, tilting your hips more trying to lean into his touch. coryo withdrew his fingers to play with your clit, rubbing circles around your sensitive nub that resulted in you crying out in pleasure.
“such a good girl, getting all wet for me,” you nodded along dumbly, “for you, all you.” you babbled as he kissed you deeply.
coryos hand dragged up and down your folds, “your pussy is soaked, baby. look at that,” you whined at the feeling of him not touching you, your cheeks flushed at the sight of your arousal. coryo pulled his pants down, throwing them away over his shoulder. you hid your head into the pillow as coryo tutted, “you have to look pretty girl, look at the mess you made.” coryo taunted as he rubbed your slick juices all over his dick, trying to humiliate you, get a rise out of you. coryos hand holds onto your neck, tightening as you clutched on with both hands, “please, coryo, i’ll be so good.” he rested his forehead on yours, noses touching.
“i love you, i love you, i love you.” he whispered in your ear, “my beautiful wife, you’d look so good with my baby in you.” the idea of having his baby had you pressing your lips to his as he bit down on your lower lip, making you gasp as your lips part, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, exploring every bit of you he’d ever wished to. his hunger hadn’t fallen, only increased.
“ i need to fuck you,” he panted, you having stolen his breath. coryo teased your folds with the head of his cock, “need to fill up this pretty little pussy of yours,” he pushed into you, warm walls coating his cock as he groaned, “you feel so good.” he moaned into your neck as your hands clutched onto his broad shoulders. he wasn’t sure if he’d last long but then again he didn’t care, it’s not like you knew it was a short time.
the way you clenched down on him was more than enough proof of your virginity. your cries fueled him on as he pinned your hips down into the mattress, rutting against you wildly. “you feel that?” he was everywhere, filling you up. his dick making an appearance through the bulge in your tummy. “uh-huh. too much i can’t-” he stopped you before you could finish by pressing down on it with his palm, “yes you can baby.” you shook your head, “coryo i can’t, you feel too good.” you begin, crying from how good he was making you feel, from how dumb and desperate he was making you.
“m’ gonna fill you up, gonna give you my baby.” he was driving you crazy, his heavy panting, hands on either side of your head, his voice was deep and filled with fire. “yes, yes please inside me.” coryo’s eyes squeezed shut and his brow furrowed you were too much, fuelled on by the idea of a pregnant wife, pregnant you. swollen belly, heavy breasts, relying on him to help you out of bed. his hips stuttered and faltered as he came inside you with a low groan. he didn’t care about pulling out and neither did you as your release came down on you again. “feels so good coryo, thank you.”
he couldn’t help his smile as you continued to thank him for making you feel so good. his ego was sure as hell swelling as he pulled out of you, collapsing on the bed. his hand caressed your face, kissing you all over, praising you.
“you did so well f’me. proud of you baby.” you grinned up at him as you snuggled into his neck. “only for you coryo.” all for him. “i’ll clean you up okay?” you nodded along as he got out of bed.
coriolanus deemed the night a success, but for some reason he didn’t feel complete. he wanted more. but as he looked up at your sleepy eyes and tired out body he wanted to let you rest. but the idea seemed to slip out of his head once he was levelled with your core again, his release spilling out of you and the warm towel forgotten. he didn’t stop himself when he began to lick at you, his tongue working his way into your entrance as your head shoved at his face.
“coryo, i’m sensitive. coryo please stop.” you attempted to crawl away but his hands dragged you to the edge of the bed, legs around his head. your body fell limp against the sheets as pleasure took over. your hands laced with his hair as you cried out.
it was going to be a long night.
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number-1-crush · 1 year
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hehehehehehe <333
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hungharrington · 22 days
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Ok hear me out casual intimacy with Steve!! Like imagine the first time u shower together and u just wash his hair for him! The first time u change in front of him or wen ur wearing an oversized t shirt and like skimpy panties and go over to the couch where he is and sit in his lap it's the moments where it's such so much trust and love low key him realizing how comfy u are around him and how much u trust him he gets turned on
Brushing ur teeth together at his place? Man is half hard already
ohooooo casual intimacy IS his turn on you’re so goddamn right — this is just like, sweet domesticity <3 and steve then gets turned on by it hehehe + fade to black smut
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There had been a period of time after you got together where Steve sometimes wondered if you were ever going to properly relax around him. Like truly relax.
Not that he minded in the least! Watching you avert your gaze nervously, feeling your face glow all hot when he calls you honey, feeling the little tremble in your fingers when you hold his hand— Steve adores it all.
He knows it means you like him. And Steve likes you too.
He likes you a whole bunch— like a lot a lot, okay? In fact, if he probably told you how much he likes you, you’d probably melt and hide under the covers and never return. Which Steve doesn’t ever want.
So you’re a bit reserved and Steve’s still crazy for you and it works. But basically, he never really expected to get this.
“D’ya wanna, like, maybe, shower together?”
Steve blinks, his towel in one hand and his heart pounding in his chest. Did you just say that? He blinks again, just to be sure.
You’re staring at him from your place on his bed, probably being the bravest you’ve ever been considering what you’ve just asked him.
“Yeah- yes. Of course.” He stammers out before you can get too shy on him. “I’ll go get another towel.”
It doesn’t take long for him to snag another from the linen cupboard but by the time he’s back, he can hear the spray of the shower. You’ve left a trail of clothes leading up to it. Something warm stirs in his chest.
He doesn’t make a big deal about it and you seem grateful for it. Beyond the odd complaint about hogging the water, to which Steve sticks his tongue out at you before switching, it’s almost like an ordinary shower. Washing up, wetting his hair.
Except, y’know, til you offer to wash it.
I swear to god do not get a boner right now, Steve thinks desperately to himself, his head ducked down so you could reach it more easily. You’re not making it easy for him. You’re paying him so much attention, your fingertips soothing along his scalp as you lather up the shampoo, massaging the skin. It’s heaven.
Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this relaxed whilst the two of you have no clothes on.
You’ve been trying not to be so iffy about being naked but honestly Steve didn’t care if you were forever. He likes you any way he can get you.
Usually, the lead up to sex is the only time Steve gets to see you naked— when it’s all charged air and an eager energy to start making each other feel good. Hot kisses and a feverish vision of pleasure.
But this… this is different. There’s no charged energy, just a low buzz of love.
You cup your hands over his eyes so shampoo doesn’t get in them when you tilt his head back to rinse it and Steve nearly cries then and there. He’s never been so happy to return a favour, letting you lean up against him as he soaps up your hair. He’s pretty sure your eyes are closed the whole time. It feels good, taking care of you. It makes him happy.
Afterward, as you towel off, Steve keeps expecting that familiar shyness to creep in.
He’s not watching, okay? But as he gets himself dressed, just in his pyjama pants, it doesn’t go unnoticed that you’re not scrambling to cover up. Instead, you’re at ease, slipping on your panties and then one of his own large t-shirts. You must’ve stolen it when he wasn’t in the room.
It makes him pause, a momentary gawk, before he remembers to close his mouth. You catch the end of it and a flustered expression crosses your face, as if realising how much you’re exposing yourself. And that just won’t do— so Steve remedies it with a kiss, dragging you over to him by the waist so he can lean up against the counter and kiss you sweetly.
You both have wet hair. Your skin is all dewey from the shower and your eyelashes look extra long when they’re wet. You’re fucking beautiful.
It’s all Steve can think as you both brush your teeth in the mirror— making eye contact every couple of seconds and grinning like goofballs. It’s not productive. Steve adores it.
You’re both half-dressed, you without pants and Steve without his shirt, and it’s so damn homey, so cozy, so in love, that it makes Steve’s chest a little tight, in a good way. It’s intimate. You trust him.
Oh my god, He thinks. You trust him.
His pants grow tight. The flimsy material of his pyjamas hide nothing. Steve holds one hand in front of his crotch and looks to the ceiling for strength, because there’s no way you won’t be able to notice.
You lean over and spit out your toothpaste and then look at him through the mirror.
“Steve?”
“Yah?” He gargles back, toothbrush still in his mouth, eyes still on ceiling. His cock thickens a little more in his pants, blood getting a little hotter.
“Are you…?”
He gives a big sigh through his nose, “Yah.”
He finally forces himself to met your eyes through the mirror and you’re… smiling? Almost mischievously. Oh god.
“Because… of the teeth brushing?”
Steve rolls his eyes but the embarrassed flush on his cheeks still gives him away. He leans over and spits his toothpaste, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.
“No, not cos of the— well, not just cos of the—“ He cuts himself off, the blush on his face beginning to spread down his neck. “Look, you washed my hair and you’re not wearing any pants! We’re brushing our teeth together! I like it, okay?”
In a complete reversal of the usual, suddenly Steve’s the flustered one and you’re the cool, calm one. Your smile only grows at his explanation, some of the mischief exchanging for fondness.
“That’s okay,” You say softly. You press up on your toes to kiss his cheek and wander towards the door. “Do you wanna cuddle tonight?”
Steve’s cock gets harder at your words and he groans, because he knows you know what you’re doing— especially when you laugh a little, a cheeky sound. You’re playing into his in-love fantasy, his domestic dream, that somehow has a direct line to his dick now, which is probably most definitely a problem for later.
“You know I do.”
“Well, c’mon then, loverboy,” You coo.
Steve chases you from the bathroom all the way to his sheets, your laughter louder and more beautiful than anything.
And he does get his cuddles —y’know, after he fucks your brains out.
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sincerelyneo · 26 days
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will you be reposting the jeno fic you had on your old blog? it was my fave 🥺
here it is <3
fireproof | l.jn
“‘cause no body saves me baby the way you do”
💿now playing: fireproof by one direction
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❯ summary: Your brother Jaemin loves throwing parties when your parents aren’t home — but you hate it. In an attempt to escape the loud music and sweaty bodies you try and head out. But there’s no way your brother’s best friend, Jeno, is letting you wander around the streets so late.
❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader
❯ genre: smut, brother’s best friend, college!au
❯ words: 8.4k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, masturbation, minor mentions of drug use, drinking, marking, slight protective brother jaemin, begging, spanking, mentions of marking, unprotected sex (don't do this!), oral sex (m/f receiving), fingering, reader uses she/her pronouns, jeno fucks his best friend’s little sister.
a/n: i changed the title hehehe
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This party fucking sucks.
You’re not even drunk. The vodka is watered down, you're sure of it. Your friends ditched you about half an hour ago — disappearing with some of the guys they had been speaking to and seeing. 
"Come to the party with us, they said." You mimic to yourself into your plastic cup. "It'll be fun, they said." 
You scoff taking another swig but pull your face at the awful taste that lingers in your mouth. There are better things you could be doing on a Saturday night, you think. You’re almost positive you saw a new show released on Netflix today. Or better yet, you could be reading some sort of erotic novel that would spice up your Saturday night more than this shit.
But the thing is, this party is at your own fucking house.
Your brother is throwing it. 
Every time your parents go away for one weekend he can’t help but jump at the opportunity to trash the place. You don't see why he can't just have a few of the boys around, have some beers and then call it a night. But no, that isn't exactly Jaemin’s style. 
Of course, he has to invite a bunch of random weirdos that seem to be snorting cocaine off of every surface in this house, and smoking whatever kind of weed they could find. And sure, you’re not impartial to a good night but this... this is not your idea of a good night.
At all.
Sighing, you push through the masses of people, seeing the sweaty bodies that are dry humping one another or eating each other's faces off so much you feel like you’re going to throw up at the sight. 
Stopping in your tracks, you reach into the back pocket of your denim jeans to pull out your phone, seeing that it is half-past midnight. If you know Jaemin — and you did — this was only the beginning of the night. The party is definitely far from over.
Fuck sake.
You put your phone back in your pocket and continue to manoeuvre around the bodies in the hallway. Your stomach growls and you think about how you're drinking on an empty stomach. The only thing open at this time is a Mcdonald's but you don't necessarily want to be that person that sits in McDonald's by themselves on a Saturday night. 
Still, you head for your front door and try your luck at an escape. As you reach your hand out to grab the door handle you smash headfirst into a body. Well to be more specific a chest. A hard chest.
"Ow, fuck!" You lift your hand up, rubbing your forehead.
"Sorry little Na, didn't see you there." You immediately recognise that voice. The deep slowness in which he talks. It’s the only voice that has a straight hotline to your core. 
Yeah, you couldn't ever forget that voice.
You stop rubbing your head and slowly look up, following the lines of his muscled chest that you can see through the tight white t-shirt he's wearing with a pair of denim jeans and converse. Yes you had already checked him out tonight, but you’re only human. And when your eyes meet that sharp jawline, hollowed-out cheekbones and those damming brown eyes, you involuntarily clench your thighs together.
You shun yourself because you know you can’t have him. And that’s the reason why you hate him. 
He's your brother’s best friend.
Lee fucking Jeno.
The worst man on this planet. for many reasons like for one he’s insanely hot. Like too hot. Who on this planet even needs to be that hot? But to make it worse he knows he's hot. Girls are always flying off his arm fueling his ego. He's also selfish and arrogant. 
But the reason you hate him the most, the reason you despise him so much, and avoid him at all costs is because of the burning need — it's past being a want it's a fucking need — to just devour him. Every part of you screams out whenever he is in the same room. 
And you hate it.
You have zero control over your words and actions with him — and he knows it with how much you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of him over the years. Your cheeks tend to grow red without your permission, and oh does he love to point that out.
Ever since your brother brought him home in his first year of high school, they have been inseparable — and you’ve been madly in love.
Well, you’re not in love with the boy. You just, you know, want to rip his clothes off. And let him fuck the living daylights out of you.
"Aw, there they are." He distracts you from your thoughts. 
His eyes are burning straight through you. As if he can tell what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. And right now, you have very infuriating dampness in your panties that wasn't there 30 seconds ago. 
"Those rosy cheeks, are they for me, little Na?" You swat his hand away as it attempts to reach up to caress your cheek or some stupid shit like that.
"Stop that Jeno!” You snap at him, getting angry is your default with him.
It the perfect remedy to keep him away from you, so you don't do something stupid like fuck your brother’s best friend
“Please just get out my way.” 
"Such a pleasant girl, aren't you?" He winks. 
He fucking winks, and your pussy screams in delight. If you were any other girl, you’d be swooning right now. You’d be on your knees begging for it. 
Well, you won't be on your  knees for him.
Ever.
Especially not tonight.
"Just get out of my way, Jeno,” you push him rather hard. 
You knew it wouldn't make him budge if he didn't want it too but he dramatically moved out of your way of the door. You yank it open and dart through onto the front lawn. Halfway down the driveway, a sharp tug on your arm spins you around and you’re  faced with Jeno... again.
"Fuck sake, what do you want?" You shake your arm out of his grip but he doesn't let go. 
You give up, huffing and dropping your shoulders. The two of you are just staring at each other, so much so that you didn't even realise how close you really were. Your chests are almost touching, there is a hair width between you. And due to your height, if you looked forwards you’d be looking at the bottom of his neck, right where you see him gulp before meeting your eyes again. They seem to burn into yours, suddenly growing intense. 
He is the first to look away but he doesn't just look away, no. You watch as his eyes flash down to your lips. Your breath hitches, he sees that and when he looks back to your eyes again, he flashes you a knowing smirk.
Motherfucker. 
"Come back inside." He says as he throws his head to the side, signalling to your house.
"No," you all but stomp your foot.
"You're such a fucking brat, you know that right?" He growls, closing that gap so that your chests touch. There’s an electricity running through you, begging for him. 
"I'm not a fucking brat, I just don't want to be here at this shitty party!” 
You don't break his eye contact, chests still touching. He can sure as hell feel each heavy breath you take and probably every beat of your heart that seems to have sped up since he moved closer.
"Just go inside, go to your room, anything. Just don't fucking leave, your brother would have my balls if I let you go out alone this late at night.” 
You roll your eyes at the mention of your brother. You love him, you really do, but hearing the word brother leaves Jeno’s lips reminds you exactly why he’s even here.
It’s not for you — it’s for Jaemin’s sake. 
"I don't see why either of you care, you've got plenty of booze and girls to keep you occupied to not even notice me gone,” you stand your ground, trying to tug your arm once again but he still won't let go.
However, he has loosened his grip so it isn't so harsh, but it's still locked around your wrist. In fact, you’re sure you feel him drawing little circles on the inner skin with his thumb and that thought alone has you squirming no matter how much you try to ignore it. 
"I think I'd always notice when you're not there," Jeno says under his breath, his face lowering to yours. 
If you didn't know better then you’d think he was about to kiss you. But that can't happen. Can it? 
Everything but your core is saying no. Your whole body is screaming to open up your mouth and say please. But you ignore it — you always do— and try to keep a brave face. But as he gets so close, too close, your eyes automatically flutter shut.
You expect his lips to graze yours but they don't, instead, you feel his cheek against you , only faintly, as his lips skim your ear lobe.
"I think I'd always notice when you're not there because there won't be some childish little brat moaning about not getting her own way." 
Your eyes shoot open as he pulls back, laughing at your flushing cheeks. Your eyes narrow as you finally tug your arm hard enough this time that he has no choice but to release you. 
"I do not moan about not getting my own way and I am not childish nor a brat,” you sneer at him. 
"Sure,-" he huffs, laughing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Whatever you say." 
"Why can’t you just go inside and leave me alone,” you cross your own arms over your chest. 
"No can do." He stands there like some sort of bouncer, you look to your right and see the path only a few steps away. He watches you and says a low, demanding, "Don't." 
But you do it. 
You spin on your heel and run for it. But you only make it two steps before two large arms are wrapped around your waist from behind and you’re being sprung back into a hard chest. Jeno’s one arm sits tightly around your waist, his fingers digging into your hip and you squirm against him. To stop your wriggling, his other hand flies up to grab a hold of your throat, tilting your head back to the rest of his shoulder. 
His eyes flash to his hand around your neck and he takes a deep breath that causes his eyes to flutter shut. Then you feel something growing behind you causing your own eyes to grow wide. He leans forward, lips skimming yours barely. 
“I said don't." It sounded more like a growl than anything and a small whimper escaped your lips. "Are you going to walk inside or am I going to have to carry you?" He whispers still close to your mouth. If you lifted your head slightly, you’d be kissing.
"I'm not going back inside." You sternly reply, he just laughs and his hold loosens on you. 
But he doesn’t free you. Instead he throws you clean over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. 
“Put. Me. Down. Jeno." You scream, hitting his back, but he doesn't listen. Carrying on heading back inside your house. 
Your cheeks are bright red and you stop your attack on Jeno’s back and decide to clench his shirt in your fists and hide your face in it.
"What's going on here?" You hear Jaemin’s voice and your head flies up.
"Your sister tried to escape," Jeno says laughing, bending down to lower you to the ground. 
When he stood back up, you were so close your bodies touched again, your breasts rubbed against his firm chest and your nipples stiffened. His eyes glanced down to them and they darken, then he looks to you again and grabs your shoulders, spinning you around to face your brother. You automatically lifted your arms up and over your breasts to cover the obvious arousal.
"Come on Y/N, you know you can't be walking around aimlessly at night." Jaemin chastises you.
"I'm not a child Jaem," you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.
"So what? Grown ass people still get kidnapped!” 
You groan, I'm going to my room." 
You push past him and head towards the stairs. You turn around seeing Jeno’s smug face knowing he’s got his own way about you coming back inside.
But you won’t give him the satisfaction. You’ll  just sneak out the window and have your perfect escape. He won't know. 
Not like he’ll come to check — right?
You spin on your heel as you hear the sound of footsteps following behind you. Jeno’s there, eyes locked on your ass until he sees you looking back down at him and then cocks his head to the side and smiles innocently. 
“What are you doing?” You spit. 
"Just making sure you actually do go to your room." He flashes his infamous eye smile that has plagued your dreams since you first met him. "And that your windows are locked. Don't want you running away now do we?" he winks at you.
He’s so irritating!
With a huff, you turn around and storm your way up the last couple of stairs, making sure your stomps are extra loud. You can just hear Jeno snickering behind you and that only rattles you even more. When you reach the landing you turn immediately and head to the last door of the hallway and pull it open, stepping inside of your bedroom. You go to slam the door shut but a sneaker covered foot stops in between preventing it.
You immediately roll your eyes and groan. 
"Leave me alone Jeno." You groan, leaning up against the door with your back, pushing it.
"Let me check your windows then I'll leave."
"What kind of request is that?” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. 
"Just let me."
"No."
The two of you enter a stare off — one you both know he’s going to win. And he does, because you don’t even let two whole minutes pass before you’re huffing out a “Fine.” 
He makes his way over to your window, making sure it's locked, then he chuckles, drawing your curtains too. The only thing lightening the room was your bedside lamp that you had an awful habit of leaving on. That, and it was the perfect deterrent to make it look like someone was in there, keeping strangers from having sex on your bed.
“All done?” You ask, breathy. 
He smirks, his eyes flashing to your lips again and you swear to god if he does that one more time you’re either going to kick him in the balls or jump on him and kiss him. 
You force yourself to take a step back and take a deep breath which makes him laugh.
"Well goodnight little Na, don't go sneaking out because I will know about it." He walks off to the door and before he exits you say,
"And how would you possibly know that?"
He looks over his shoulder, his eyes flash up and down your body, "I just will,” he winks then closes the door behind him.
You huff out and stomp your foot like a child. God you needed to grow a backbone and stop letting that idiot mess with you. 
Storming into your bathroom you slam the door shut. You strip off your clothes and turn on the shower. Whilst waiting for it to get up to temperature, you sigh. 
"Let me just lock your windows for ya." You pull a face copying him. "Want me to check that for ya?"
Once you’re done in the shower you climb out of it and dry yourself with a towel. 
"He's so fucking annoying ugh," you say to yourself as you pull the bathroom door open and saunter into your bedroom naked. 
You don't even check to see if anyone was in there, too busy ranting about him. And when you feel the cold draft of your bedroom it makes you realise you had just walked into your unlocked bedroom naked. Immediately, you covered your body remembering the party going on downstairs; but on first glance, it appeared no one was in there. Still you quickly grab your oversized grey t-shirt from the end of your bed, throwing it on over your head, but skipping your underwear. 
Your room was fairly simple with white furniture, a wooden floor, soft pink bedding, a few cuddly toys. The bed lies against the far wall, opposite the door and you leave your lamp on to have a little bit of light to help you sleep. 
Trying to fall asleep you flip over so your back faces the light. You try a few different sleep scenarios but everything keeps going back to Jeno.
And the way his hand gripped around your neck. 
You flip over again, keeping your eyes shut, yet, Jeno just waltzes into your mind continuously. Like he won't leave you alone. You feel so much anger coursing through your blood, yet you have this strange pulling into your core. 
You need to give attention to it — so you do. And as soon as you slip your hand under the covers, the fantasies start rolling in. Jeno’s arms around you, grabbing at your waist, your hips, your ass, your breasts.
Your breath hitches.
His tongue in your mouth, along your skin, tracing your neck and stomach, then between your folds lapping at you. Your eyes shoot open as you clench your thighs together and immediately feel the wetness.
It was just too much to ignore. This wasn’t going away. You already knew that. 
You just needed some relief and then you’ll be free for the night. Jeno never needs to know and it’s not like you haven’t done this exact same thing before over him. 
Your right hand finds your centre first, sliding between the folds and instantly feeling the slick wetness there. Slowly and sensually, you begin moving your fingers in a circular motion. Eyes closing instantly, flashes of Jeno now being played before you.
In your mind, it was no longer your hand but his. Rubbing your clit, sending shivers down your spine and causing a small panting moan to escape you. 
Your left hand begins clutching at the sheets and as you feel your nipples peak and rub against the soft material of your shirt, you have no choice but to swiftly move your hand up and under to take hold of your own breasts and squeeze. You moan again as you begin to work your fingers faster over your clit.
Now in your head, Jeno stood before you shirtless. Seeing the ripples in the muscles of his abs, he flexes his arms, making you grow weaker. But you always felt like this whenever you saw him shirtless at the pool, or the beach. 
And you couldn't deny how fucking sexy he was — you wouldn’t?”
"What’re you thinking about?" 
You pause instantly, back arched, orgasm growing close and eyes squeezed shut. You can't decipher whether that voice was in your head or in real life so you just grow still and relax, trying to pretend it didn’t happen. 
Your breathing which was already heavy, grows even more so, this time with panic and worry. You don't want to open your eyes, scared of what you might see because you recognised that voice.
At least, you’re really fucking hoping Jeno’s voice is all in your head, because you’re seconds away from orgasm.
"I asked you a question." 
Your eyes fly open. He’s definitely not in your head. 
Ripping your hand away from your clit, you pull the other away from your nipple and force yourself into a seated position with your hands splayed behind to hold you up. You scream on instinct, he doesn't so much as flinch as he stands at the end of your bed. 
His eyes are dark, head low and looking up at you through his lashes. He has that smirk on his face, and his hands are fidgeting, rolling his fingers against his palm. Your eyes roam his body as your scream continues and you wish you hadn't, only because your scream turned into a moan as you spied his hard erection pushing against his jeans.
You gasp and look back at his face. 
"What're you doing Jeno?" You whisper-shout, even though the party downstairs would make it difficult for anyone to hear you anyway. 
Still, you didn’t want any party goers walking in on a flustered you in bed with Jeno and his very large, very prominent erection, standing at the base. 
Fuck. It's so big. You can tell from how it's breaking at the seams of his jeans to be let free. Your mouth waters at the sheer thought of his dick — wondering what it looks like, how it feels in your hands, in your mouth — how it tastes. 
Fuck no. Absolutely not. 
You shake your head, trying to rid the thoughts and ignore the fact your core is pulsing right now, begging for one last touch so you can explode into orgasm. You really fucking needed it.
"I asked you what you were thinking about?" He says lowly, and it causes your breathing to still.
“H-how long have you been standing there?" You whimper. 
He shrugs, “That doesn't matter, what does matter is-" he moves his head up, looking you dead in the eyes as he cracks his neck and then his fists in each hand. "-What you were thinking about whilst touching yourself? Was it me?" 
He smirks again and you stood up, throwing the duvet off of your legs. 
"Not a chance," He says sternly. You look at him again, face paling. 
"What do you mean, no?" you ask, cocking your head.
"I mean don't you fucking move-" His tongue came out to lap at his bottom lip as his eyes moved down your body, down your legs. 
You instantly went to grab the duvet again but he grabbed it first, ripping it from the bed and throwing it across the room. You get down on all fours, crawling to try and get it before him. 
"Jeno!" You exclaim, reaching your hand out for it but it was too far away. You look up at him on all fours, and from this angle... God. You gulp. 
"Give me my cover."
You try to wash away every fantasy of being in this position before him but you can't ignore the way you need his hard cock, seeping at the tip and begging for you to lick it, to suck it. 
Stop. No. Not now.
His hand comes to the side of your face, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear and you shiver at the touch. 
"Lie. Back. On. The. Bed." He commands.
Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and then slowly, you move to follow his command until you are back down on the bed. You keep your legs closed and hands on your stomach. 
You weren’t sure why you’re listening to him — obeying him . But something in you, some instinct is just screaming at you to let this play out, see what he wants.
"Touch yourself." He says and you blanch, your eyes growing wide and you sit up again, but one stern look from him has you lying back down again. "Touch yourself and tell me what you think of, how you feel, tell me everything Y/N."
Your name. He never bothers to call you that. Usually emphasising how you’re his best friend’s little sister with the nickname he’d given you. But honestly, you’re thankful for the nickname because hearing your actual name from his lips, all nasally and sensual, sends you spiralling. 
It makes you putty in his hands. And as for your hands? Well, they slowly spread your legs wide revealing your soaking wet cunt to him. You keep your eyes pierced on him, watching how his breath hitches, eyes glued to you. The way he automatically grabs his cock through his jeans and squeezes is like a reflex. Closing his eyes only briefly before they're back on you, on your core. 
You feel yourself growing red, the heat of embarrassment consuming you whole as you slide your hand down your stomach. As soon as your fingers make contact with your clit, your hips are bucking off of the bed and your back starts to curve. Building up your arousal doesn't take long. You were already half there, teetering on the edge. 
Except this time your eyes lock onto Jeno’s for real whilst your fingers are moving, soft moans leaving your lips. You spy his own hand on his cock, he hasn't pulled it free but he moves his hand back and forth over his shaft. You can see the way his arms tense as he moves and watches you.
You throw your head back with another moan. Seeing him stood there isn't enough, you need something more. You need him climbing on top of you, replacing your fingers with his. His hot breath against your neck as he rubs you harder and faster. 
"What are you thinking about?"
"You." You say breathily.
"What about me?"
Your eyes shoot open to stare at him, he looks tense and flustered. Just as bad as you. His hand stops moving on his cock and you make a mental note that he might've been close. Too close. And this might be over too soon.
"Your fingers on my clit, rubbing me," you throw your head back as the fantasy flashes again. 
"Yes, and what else?" He growls. 
"Your mouth." You breathe again.
"My mouth, huh?" He bites and your fantasy continues. 
"Yes. Everywhere." You cry out, orgasm seconds away. "Your mouth on me, about to- God, Jeno I'm gonna cum,” your back arches, hips bucking, fingers moving so fast and rough. 
"Look at me." Your eyes fly open at the command. "I want you to cum whilst looking at me."
And you do. The sheer dominance radiating off of him is the final straw that has you crashing down. 
Your orgasm rips through you as your hips lift so far off the bed. You moved your fingers through your orgasm, riding it out but finally, your hips fell back to the bed and you let out a heavy breath.
Before you could even open your eyes again, you felt two large arms wrap under your thighs gripping your hips, and suddenly you’re yanked to the end of the bed. Your eyes snap open, and your head lifts up as you spy Jeno on his knees at the end of the bed, his mouth centimetres from your dripping pussy.
"J-Jeno,” you mumble, just the sight of him has you moaning. 
You’re not sure if getting yourself off in front of him was the moment you both decided to cross the line; but now him manoeuvring between your legs, you knew you definitely had. Regardless, you know now you aren't ever going back to the dynamic you had before. 
"I’m gonna make those fantasies come to life baby.” 
He doesn't miss a beat. His tongue comes out and swipes a long lick up and through your folds. All common sense leaves your head as you fall back against the bed. 
"God, you taste so good. I fucking knew you would." 
He’s thought about this? You know you have. 
He repeats the motion again, this time focusing on your clit, making sure to run a smooth stripe along it, circling it only slightly, enough to have you wriggling. One of his hands splays over your stomach, holding your hips down. 
"I want you to cum on my tongue. I want to taste every drop of you,” you gulp, looking down at him between your thighs. You don't miss the dark pupils in his eyes and that daring look, the one telling you to follow his instructions. 
"Jeno, oh my god,” you cry out, your head flying back as his mouth attacks your clit. He sucks it in, flicking his tongue all over in a frenzied motion. 
You know he knows all the right ways to make a girl squirm. And you are fucking squirming. All over the fucking bed, you’d be breaking free from him if he didn't have his large veined hand holding your stomach down. Your stomach is now on show. Your t-shirt has risen up to just below your breasts and you see the way his eyes watch the movement as you move about, tits bouncing around.
And as if he can hear your thoughts he says,
"Take your top off." 
You do it without question, lifting the hem and throwing it over your head. Now you’re laying there completely naked. His hand that was on your stomach comes up and takes hold of one breast, instantly taking your nipple between his fingers and you hear him, no you feel him, moan into your pussy. 
The vibrations cause you to cry out, hands knuckling the bed sheets. 
"You're so fucking hot Y/N, God." He murmurs before attacking you again, his mouth working wonders.
And that tongue. You’re so close. You can feel it. 
Then you feel as he slides two fingers into you. Jeno curls his fingers inside of you, hitting some sort of sensitive spot, and as soon as his fingers massage that area inside you and his mouth returns to your clit, you explode.
You don't even know if the music downstairs would cover your screams as you fell into ecstasy. His hand on your breast doesn’t  move, but the one that had been hooked on your hip moves to splay against your stomach holding you down as he laps at you, riding you through your second orgasm until you couldn’t take it anymore. He pulls his fingers out, then his mouth away from you at just the right time.
You lay there spent. Completely. 
Eyes fluttering open. Jeno stood between your legs looking down at you. His cock looked painful in his jeans. You had once felt exhausted and ready to fall asleep but as soon as you saw his erection you shot up in your seat. You immediately fumble with his jeans until his hand comes to your jaw, pulling your head up to look into his eyes. He stares for a moment before blinking, taking a deep breath.
"You don't have to- I didn't do that for you to-"
"I want to. I want this." You nod eagerly,"I want you.” 
You lick your lips and it's as if something snaps in him, that moment of care vanishes and he lets go of your chin.
"Well then, suck my cock,” he says, standing there and you do as you’re told.
You unfasten his jeans, pull them down and then his underwear. His large erect cock springs free instantly and without a second thought you take hold of him in your hand. Your hands look tiny against his dick. 
You move your hand slowly up and down his cock, and notice how his thighs tense, then his stomach and you follow your eyes up until you meet his face. His head is hung low, eyes dark and hands clenched by his sides. Keeping your eyes on his, you lean forward and spy the precum, flicking your tongue out and taking it in to swallow down with a moan that makes him grunt. 
You moved so that your face was closer to his balls, then you stroked your tongue all along his length, and felt the way he flexed beneath your muscle. There’s a cocky smirk covering your face when you move back to the top and suck his tip into your mouth.
"Do you like sucking my cock?" He asks, his hand threading into your hair to start pulling on the roots to yank your head backwards. 
"Do you like it when I suck your cock, Jeno?" You flip the question with a smile the power in your hands. You continue working him and he flexes his hand in your hair.
"That's how you wanna play?" He grins at you.
You pretend to think for a moment, "I’m not playing anything." You move your head closer down his length, licking  another long stripe hearing how he curses under his breath and thrusts his hips towards you. "I just want to suck your cock." 
With that, you take him into your mouth, sliding down until you reach your limit. You can't take him whole, he’s way too big for that, but you take what you can. He coughs and splutters a bunch of inaudible words, but you just pull back up and repeat the motion, continuing to take him back into your throat. 
His hand stays threaded in your hair, keeping a rough hold so that you can't pull away — not that you wanted to.  
You love every second. Even as you feel him tensing, his hips moving as he thrusts into your mouth. You look up through your lashes to see his head thrown back as he moans out and hisses every so often when you drag your teeth along his cock. You can tell he likes it as the precum coats your tongue. That and the way he doesn't tell you to stop. 
"Do. That. Again."
And you do, watching his head fall forwards."Such a pretty sight, my cock filling your mouth. What do you think your brother would think about this?" he smirks and your face falls pale.
You almost stop sucking his dick but he doesn't let you, slamming his hips forwards so his cock hits the back of your throat.
Your brother.
Not a thought you want to think about right now but it is something you needed to consider. This was his best friend. You’d finally gotten the man so forbidden, always out of bounds. The whole time you didn’t know that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. 
You moan uncontrollably, and it must send vibrations along his cock as you feel it twitch in your mouth, his thrusts become sloppy and his grip on your hand grows tighter. 
"Fuck, Y/N, I'm gonna cum." He grits out. "Are you gonna let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours?" 
You look up at him. You can't speak so you try to nod. 
"God, you’ve always been the death of me," He thrusts several more times as you slide your tongue all over his length and tip. 
You do it a final time as you take him to the back of your throat, gliding your teeth along him which must've been his undoing as you felt the hot steaming cum splatter against the back of your throat. 
You pulled him out your mouth slowly. Even as he is softening he is still thick and large. You kitten lick the tip as he hisses, causing him to loosen his grip in your hair and you sit back, making sure to obviously gulp so he knows you swallowed every last drop of him. Leaning forwards, his hand comes to your chin and he moves his mouth so close to your you think he might kiss you but instead he says,
"Good girl." 
You hate the way those two words made you clench your thighs together. You thought the two orgasms were enough but no, you’re ready for more. You need more. 
He’s quick to remove his shirt, and as he lifts his arms his abs flex. You are point-blank gawking at him standing before you, making him smirk. 
That snaps you out of it. Remembering you are sitting here, soaking wet and naked before him. You crawl back on the bed and then realise you have no duvet so you have to pull your knees to your chest and cross your arms over your knees to cover yourself. 
He watches you, laughs and then shakes his head. He then moves, shoving off his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off until they both land on the floor.
"Wh-What are you doing?" You ask stuttering, thinking he should actually be getting dressed to leave.
"What do you think I'm doing?" he asks. 
Can't he ever just give you a simple answer? 
Then you notice how his cock has sprung to life again and his hand moves to touch it. Moving up and down the length as he cracks his neck.
"You're h-hard again?" You stutter, eyes glued to the impressive size of him. 
"I'm always hard for you baby." He winks and for once, it didn't make you want to punch him. 
"Jeno, we can't." You shake your head.
 You’re already way past the line. Sex would destroy the whole scale. Still, the idea of him, his cock inside of you, whispering filthy things in your ear... it isn't something you can ignore. 
"You want it." He says point blankly. 
You gulp and remain silent. He moves onto the bed, kneeling and then crawls towards you until he is over you. His hair has fallen over his eyes — so fucking hot. "I know you want it, why try to deny it?" He cocks his head to the side, smugly.
"I-I'm not." You fidget. 
“Yes, you are." He ducks his head low, burying it in your neck. You feel his warm breath and your heartbeat rackets so loud. "You don't want to want me to fuck you,” His teeth graze your neck, sending you into a panting mess as he sucks and bites. 
He then pulls away and laps at the mark you know is there, the one he put there as a reminder tomorrow when you come to your senses that you did this.
"So I’ll ask again. What do you want?" He looks down at you, plump pink lips swollen and wet from his constant licking and biting them. 
You’re going to let your brothers best friend fuck you. And you’re going to love every second of it.
Not wasting another moment longer to think, you grab hold of his neck and lift your head whilst pulling him to you to smash your lips together. There’s heat, fire, and explosions of electricity. 
Your hands claw at his neck, his back, his sides. Anything to pull him closer. His crotch, his hard cock, grinds against your soaking hole and you groan out whilst continuing to kiss him. Both so desperate for each other. His hands skim down your body, kneading your breasts, your hips. He grabs hold of anywhere and everywhere. 
His lips detach from yours, giving you a moment to see how swollen they are before they're attacking your neck. He peppers kisses along your jaw, not sweet kisses but hard and sloppy kisses. Sucking and biting the skin causing your back to arch into his chest, pushing your breasts against him, making him moan. He thrusts his hips forwards, his cock sliding between your folds, hitting against your clit making you quiver.
"Fuck, we really shouldn't be doing this." He continues kissing you down your neck, reaching your collar bones that he also decides to leave marks on. 
"Jeno please," you cry out. Both of his hands move to your hips to hold you still. 
"Please what baby?" He smirks before moving lower to take one of your nipples into his mouth.
"Fuck Jeno,” you cry out as he flicks his tongue over the bud, biting it harshly so you cry out again then soothing it with a soft warm suck.
"Please what baby?" He repeats. 
"Fuck me. Now!”
"And what about your brother?" he brings him up again and you roll your eyes. 
"Stop bringing him up," You moan as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, repeating the process.
"He'll kill us if he finds out." he grins.
"Then he can't find out," You pant out of breath as Jeno moves.
His face is so close to yours that your lips are only just touching, his chest is pushed against you and his cock sits lodged between your folds. You try to shift to gain some friction against your clit but his grip holds you still. His eyes flicker across your face then he says,
"I won't tell if you won't?" His lips caress yours in the faintest of movements. You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, but in the process he bites onto your muscle making you wince then moan, "What do you think, huh?” 
There’s no room for discussion — your body won’t let you. 
"I won't tell if you won't."
He doesn't miss a beat once he gets your approval. His lips are on yours as his hips thrust forwards. His cock thrusting inside of you, tearing you open as you pull your mouth away to cry out.
"Holy fuck."
He stills once inside you, making sure to push as far as possible until his pelvis meets your skin. Your legs wrap around his waist instantly.
"You feel so fucking good." He breaks from your kiss to breathe. "I always knew you would but this-" he looks down to where you are connected and he thrusts further, trying to get deeper but he can't possibly. "-this is better than anything I could've imagined." 
"Move, please." You grunt trying to lift your hips to encourage some movement. His eyes fly open, dark and daring. 
"Beg me." He smirks and does a tiny thrust, a teasing thrust.
"Fuck off,” you pant, trying to do it yourself but he uses his hips to pin you to the bed.
"Beg." He smiles and cocks his head to one side. "Me."
You hated his arrogance. But fuck, you want him so bad. So badly that you will beg.
"Please fuck me, Jeno." He pulls out of you and you suck in a deep breath.
"Again." He grins now. 
You can't bear to look at him but looking down means watching as he holds just the tip inside of me.
"Please. Fuck. Me." You pant, half moaning, begging for him. 
He thrusts so hard into you, you wince and moan out in pleasure. He hit so deep inside that you’re sure you’ll bruise.
"Anything for you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear before sucking and biting on the lobe. 
Then he's pulling out and thrusting into you. Again. And again. And again. Harder and harder each time. Faster and faster. You lose your breath, becoming a big ball of pants and moans — just like  Jeno.
God, the sounds he makes. You’ve never heard someone so vocal before, but fuck it's hot. The small grunts he makes when he fucks you, the groans when you clench around his cock and feel yourself building. He moves his hands under your ass to lift it, plummeting into you from a new angle, going so much deeper.
"Your pussy is so tight. Fuck,” He says between thrusts, and gritted teeth. 
He seems to have found a weak spot right under your ear that has you clenching like mad around his cock. And he loves it. 
"How have you just been there in front of me this whole time? How have I stayed away from you?" He seems to be asking himself because he doesn’t press you for a reply. 
He removes his lips from your neck and sits back on his heels, his cock still inside of you, slowing his thrusts and he lifts your legs up, moving them over his shoulders. His head moves from side to side, placing a soft kiss on each ankle and for one second. You’re dumbfounded as he looks at you, a daring smirk written across his face. 
He wraps his arms around your thighs, locking your legs in a straight position against his chest on either side of his head, and then he begins pounding into you again. However this time, he moves one of his hands to your centre, his thumb moving closer to your clit. You feel how it grazes your nerves. He strums it once. Twice. Three times then you're wriggling around like a mess, back arching off as your orgasm tears through your body and you explode into euphoria. Again.
He rides you through it, fucking you as you clench and squeeze around him. A string of curse words come out of him, you feel him so close but he doesn't cum. He stops stroking your clit as you batted his hand away, you didn't realise you had been clenching the sheets with white knuckles until you relax your hands and feel a cramp in your palm.
Jeno slows his thrusts until he stills inside of you, his chest is moving up and down with each of his heavy breaths. You move your legs off of his shoulders, enjoying the movements as your legs feel strained too.
But as soon as your feet hit the bed, he grabs you and flips you so you land on your stomach. He pulls your hips up and slides into you again.
"Fuck!" You scream as he slams into you unapologetically. One hand holding your hip, the other trails along your back as he begins fucking you from behind. He leans over you, still ploughing, and comes closer to your ear.
"I always wanted to fuck you like this, you are always strutting around showing off, your ass? Do you like teasing me?" 
You don't even know what you like right now. Mind too focused on needed Jeno to fuck you any way he pleased. 
He grins, then shoves your head back down into the mattress, straightening his back and fucks you harder than you think you’ve ever have been before. You couldn't keep up with the movements, head a complete daze from all of the orgasms that he had given you.
You come to a conscious mind when a hard slap lands on your ass, it makes your pussy throb so he does it again, and again, rubbing over the area and soothing it before doing it again. Each time it makes you clench around him. 
"Jeno," you cry out between thrusts.
"Yeah, baby?" His voice sounded so much deeper, which told you he was close. That and the way his thrusts grew random and unstable.
"Want you to cum in me," You moan, clenching the sheets again. 
"I'm not wearing a condom," He grits through his teeth. 
"I'm on the pill,” you manage to say between heavy breaths. You needed him to cum in you now. 
He shakes his head, "Last thing I need is to get my best friend's little sister pregnant." And that was that because he thrust a few more times, then pulls out, and instantly, all over your ass and back you felt a hot liquid splatter about. 
As soon as his grip left your hip you fell straight down onto the mattress, and your body was thankful for it. Everything hurt. He'd destroyed you. Fucked you, well and truly. And you couldn't stop the smile on your face.
"I'll go get a cloth." He said through some heavy breaths then climbed off of the bed and went to your bathroom. He emerged a moment later, used the warm cloth to clean up his mess although you notice him take a minute to look at it.
"Admiring your work?" You asked him through a laugh, he looked at you and shook his head chuckling. 
"Trust me, if I could take a picture I would,” he wipes it away. Then he returned to the bathroom to throw the cloth in the hamper but as soon as he stood in the doorway of you heard three loud knocks on your bedroom door. 
"Y/N? You in there? Have you seen Jeno?" 
You shot up in bed, suddenly not tired or spent. Jeno’s eyes grew wide too.
You lifted your finger to your lips and gestured to Jeno to stay in the bathroom. He didn't hesitate as he shuts the door. 
Jaemin would fucking kill him and you, without a doubt. Only moments ago you had his best friend’s cum covering your ass. 
"One second," you shout,  jumping out of bed and grabbing your T-shirt. Then you rush over to the door, paint on your best sleeping face and yawn whilst opening it. 
"Oh, you were asleep?" Jaemin stood on the other side, hands braced on either side of the door frame.
You fake another yawn. He looks behind you and you turn too, fearful Jeno was standing there but then you spied your duvet cover on the other side of the room. Jamein frowned and looked back to you. 
"I was hot." You shrug. 
"Shit sorry," He quickly says. "I just can't find Jeno anywhere.” 
"He’s your friend not mine.”
"I don’t understand why you two hate each other," He rolls his eyes and you can't help but scoff at the irony. 
Hate wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for the guy that was just 8 inches deep inside of you. 
"Well, he's probably off getting high or fucking some girl.” 
“Better not be in our parent’s bed again,” he huffs, and your eyes go wide. “Fuck, he better not be doing it in my bed either,” he says to himself. 
And with that, he storms away heading for his room. Chuckling, you shut the door and Jeno emerges from the bathroom, a towel now wrapped around his waist and he stands there facing you. 
"That was close."
"Too close." You sigh. 
He dresses himself as you climb back in bed, getting your duvet back on and covering yourself with it. He walks over to the door and pulls it open, peeking outside to check the coast is clear, then once he does he turns to look over his shoulder at you.
"Our secret?" He says.
"Our secret." You nod and he steps out, not looking back and shuts the door.
You lie back on your bed, head falling into your pillows and laugh. 
But then you shake your head processing it all, moving your hand to cover your mouth, looking at the ceiling. 
You just fucked your brother’s best friend.
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lovelyhan · 2 months
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— melting point ⟢
rumor has it that icy department head of pledis insurance has something going on with her loyal secretary, wonwoo. well, she does—it's just not the kind of behind-closed-doors business one would expect for them to partake in.
★ FEATURING; secretary!wonwoo x afab!oc
★ WORD COUNT; 12.3k words
★ TAGS; coworkers to lovers, revenge fic, angst, smut
★ WARNINGS; blackmailing, manipulation, mentions of past bullying, graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)
★ NOTES; hi... it's been forever, hasn't it? i missed tumblr a lot, and have decided to grace the tags with this fic after months of radio silence heheh ! this was a commissioned piece on twt which i tweaked to fit my tumblr audience better! cheers to 5k followers even in my absence t__t you guys are the best!
★ PS; i'm sorry i can't be bothered to dig up my taglist and tag those who filled it up T T
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There’s a saying in PLEDIS Insurance that goes: enjoy your coffee early because once the Ice Queen is in, it’ll turn just as cold as she is. 
Of course, the words were merely thrown around in jest. Something that bored employees come up with in the break room whenever they’re careless enough to think their little jokes won’t reach said ice queen’s ears. But still—they’re just jokes. As long as they worked enough to satisfy their salaries’ worth, Emma the Ice Queen would always turn a blind eye. She might be cold, but she isn’t completely heartless.
Most of the time.
“Good morning, ma’am,” her secretary, Wonwoo, greeted with a curt nod as she entered her office. 
Emma scoffed before setting her things down on her work desk, the frown on her face only worsening when she sees the elegantly wrapped gift box in front of her. “What's this?” 
Wonwoo swallowed thickly, like he was nervous. Wonwoo never gets nervous.
“We have an...unforeseen circumstance,” he prefaced before tapping away on the iPad in his arms. “Sir Leo from the Choi group wants to pursue you.”
“Unforeseen?” Emma repeated. “Wonwoo, this is completely foreseen. Isn't it our from the start is to make them fall in love, only for us to expose their dirty secrets in the end?”
He looked as if he wanted to agree. But after turning the screen of his iPad so Emma could see the article written on some shoddy newsletter, her brows furrowed together in confusion.
A Race for the Inheritance: How the Choi Group’s Next Generation of Ambitious Youngbloods Will Do Everything to Get Their Fill of Old Money. 
The title itself didn’t give Emma much context of what exactly was making Wonwoo—her ever-composed secretary—lose his composure. It’s natural to see the sons and daughters of a powerful business conglomerate fight each other for their rights to the family inheritance. But after reading through what the rest of the article had to offer, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly started to fit.
“They're seeing who gets to get married first?” Emma laughed incredulously before handing the iPad back to Wonwoo. “Does Leo really think he can get me to become his lover—even more so his wife—after everything he did to me in high school?”
Wonwoo breathed in deeply. “Miss Emma, we both know the answer to that. If it were all up to you, you could easily put him to shame and reject him. But his interests somewhat align with the director’s interests as well…”
Ah. Her father’s interests.
“No,” she answered sharply. “Even if he kicks me out of my position, I’m not going to be wed to that prick.”
“Are you sure about that?” Wonwoo sighed before adjusting his glasses. “Miss Emma, we both know you love your work more than anything. And you're chronically attached to this company even if you despise the executives. Sir Leo has good leverage over you, sad to say.”
There was something irritating about hearing Wonwoo call his ex-best friend Sir, as if he was underneath some scumbag of a human being like Leo. But then again, years have passed since then. Lots of things have changed. 
But Emma’s grudges hold steadfast, still.
“Hmph, whatever.” She dismissed the matter with a nonchalant wave before unwrapping the gift box in front of her. “Was this from Leo, too? Is he on a deadline or something?”
“Hmm, first one that gets married before December gets the rights to the inheritance,” Wonwoo informed her as he picked the clutter of ribbons off Emma’s desk and pocketed them in his coat for later disposal. “Do you want me to look up the progress of his siblings and cousins? We can sabotage him while it's still early.”
Emma didn’t respond right away—preoccupied with unwrapping Leo's so-called gift. But when she sees a red velvet box with an engagement ring and a folded letter inside, she begrudgingly realized that Leo wouldn’t be as easy a target as her other high school bullies.
No, this man really was rotten to the core.
By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you already heard the news. You know what to do, right, Emma?
Or should I say, wifey? ;)
“Send this back to him. Now.”
Wonwoo nodded obediently as Emma pushed Leo's cursed gift box away from her. “Alright. Anything else I can do for you? Like…have someone plant a snake in his bedroom or something?”
Despite the sour mood that Leo undoubtedly put her in this morning, Wonwoo's little idea of a joke made the corners of her mouth turn up into a small smile. The offer was tempting, but in the end, she shook her head and booted up the PC on her desk instead.
“As much as I want his death by a snake bite to headline the news, Leo doesn’t deserve to get out of this the easy way.” Emma muttered as she started browsing through the hard-drive she’d hooked up onto the computer. “And lucky for us, I finally got the evidence to send his suspiciously prosperous career down into a spiral.”
Wonwoo raised an eyebrow before taking a peek behind her. “What's that? Money laundering records? Tax fraud?” 
No. It was really something as simple as—
“Footage of a mass orgy he participated in,” Emma casually told her secretary as she clicked on the only video on the hard drive. “Might not look like a big deal compared to what we had to go through with Ezra, but Leo belongs to a family of devout Catholics. Good thing your contact from Leo's favorite bar had some use. All I did was ask around and he quickly spilled all the details with the right amount of money.”
Wonwoo chuckled as he flashed her an impressed look. “As far as I know, I’m the one who’s supposed to do the dirty work for you. Why are you directly involving yourself in matters you can leave to me?” 
The lewd video continued to play on her screen—muted, of course—and one could easily make out Leo Choi's face amongst the crowd of sex-depraved freaks. Once they sent this over anonymously to each and every person who might think that scumbag deserved to inherit his family’s wealth, it would be all over for him.
“‘Cause we’re a team, Wonwoo,” she chuckled. “You’ve done your fair share of work when we took down Gavin and Ezra. But admittedly…I've got more bones to pick with Leo. I think it’s only fair for me to orchestrate his downfall with my own two hands.”
“Right…” Wonwoo agreed with a hint of fondness in his tone that completely went over Emma’s head—far too triumphant with her newfound ammunition. 
“We’re a team.”
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But it wasn’t always that way.
Wonwoo was actually more deeply involved in Emma’s mission to exact revenge on the people who’ve wronged her years ago than one would otherwise expect. He’d been best friends with Leo since they were kids, and when they eventually met Gavin and Ezra in their high school basketball team, the four of them were quite inseparable. 
But despite being his best friend, Wonwoo knew that Leo could be quite…off-putting with his behavior sometimes.
“Hey, look at that,” Sixteen year-old Leo scoffed before gesturing towards the loud girl earning amused stares in the cafeteria. “She's so fucking loud. Is she the new transfer student?”
Gavin snickered as he took a bite out of his lunch. “How'd she even get in here? Our tuition isn't a joke, and she doesn't really look like she can afford it. The kid of a maid, maybe?”
“Or she could be one of those financial scholarship kids,” Ezra pitched in with a shrug. “Though she doesn't look very bright if we're being honest.”
Wonwoo didn’t offer anything to the conversation, merely eating his food quietly as his friends talked smack about the new transfer student in their class. Emma Rodriguez was like a piece of meat thrown into a pit of vipers. Some might like her—like the classmates who were howling with laughter because of her antics—but others looked at her with disdain. 
She didn’t belong to any wealthy well-known families like every other kid in their grade. The girl simply popped out of nowhere like an eyesore, according to Leo. Wonwoo didn’t really mind her presence though. She made the boring monotone of his school days a bit more bearable with her energy.
But what Wonwoo thought was just his friends’ surface-level dislike for a girl who behaved differently from the others in their grade turned out to be something else.
Something worse.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew what bullying was, and was well-aware that what his friends constantly did to Emma wasn’t something that normal high schoolers did. Leo was the most vicious about it, and Wonwoo never really got to know his reasons for doing all those horrible things. 
But whenever they spotted Emma horsing around in the hallways, Leo would always be the first one to come up to her—calling her names like fraud, gold digger, and the like. Gavin and Ezra followed each and every time, and they were usually the ones who pushed her around for no real reason.
And Wonwoo? Wonwoo was the one who always stood a few feet away every time his friends decided they were in the mood to pick on the transfer student. The one who always stayed quiet and pretended nothing unsightly was happening in front of him.
The one whose gaze Emma always tried to silently catch, hoping he’d be the one to stop his friends from harassing her. 
But he never did.
That cycle of three boys bullying a once bright and bubbly transfer student became commonplace. Before their third year in high school came to a close, Emma suddenly vanished off the radar. She didn’t attend their classes, nor was she there in the completion ceremonies at the end of every school year. 
Most of the kids around Wonwoo didn’t really give two shits about her sudden disappearance. Word around the street was that she transferred out because of the heavy harassment she was getting, not just from his friends, but also the rest of the students from their grade. They didn’t think Emma was funny because of her silly antics and loud jokes anymore.
Everyone started to collectively think of her as a nuisance, and the fact that she had no familial connections to protect herself with only fed into the senseless yet oh-so popular trend of crushing Emma Rodriguez’s hopes and dreams into the ground.
It was almost like Wonwoo was the only person in their entire grade who felt the tiniest bit of pity for her. But he told himself long ago that someone like him had no right to feel sorry for someone he never bothered trying to help. 
The years passed by in a flash. After Emma’s disappearance, Wonwoo quit the basketball team and  completely cut off his friends and everyone else who actively hurt her. He didn’t really know why either—all he knew was that he couldn’t stomach the idea of keeping those connections despite what they drove Emma to do. 
Of course, he knew he wasn’t completely innocent either. But it wasn’t too late to be a decent person, right?
Wonwoo simply went through the motions of graduating high school, then college, before pursuing a career in the vicious world of the corporate hierarchy. But instead of gunning for executive positions like his fellow fresh grads dared to dream, he worked his way up without using his family’s prestige to his own advantage. 
In fact, Wonwoo realized he liked working closely with his bosses. That’s why he became the designated secretary to all the finance department heads who walked through the doors of PLEDIS Insurance. He was content with being a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy who’s at the beck and call of someone else—a tool who worked on the sidelines. He never really wanted to be the face of any company anyway.
But then, in his fifth year on the job, he was told that there were a couple of changes in PLEDIS’ executive board. The boss he’d been working under was set to retire and he’d be replaced with a new one—someone younger and full of promise, as the head of human resources dramatically explained to him. 
It wasn’t really a deal breaker or anything. As long as Wonwoo got paid, he’d gladly work for even the most terrible of people in this industry.
But on the day his new boss was set to start, he was haunted by a ghost from the past instead.
Wonwoo hasn’t spared a single thought for Emma Rodriguez in God knows how long. Yet the moment she stepped into the office, he recognized her almost immediately. There was no trace of that girl people called gold digger and other derogatory names because of her appearance. This was a woman with her head held high—someone who oozed confidence in every stride with a gaze sharper than her winged eyeliner. 
Yet Wonwoo couldn’t be mistaken. This really was Emma Rodriguez.
He wondered if she remembered him, too. The boy who kept quiet about those who bullied her in those few crucial years of her life. Wonwoo even considered apologizing for not doing anything to help her when he should have. 
“Ah, Wonwoo Jeon?” Emma repeated his name with a dismissive air, almost like she was wholly uninterested in him. “The one who just watched when Gavin Kim pushed me in the muddy courtyard at school? The one who pretended not to see when Leo Choi splashed paint all over my uniform? Of course I remember you.”
God. Was this her exacting retribution?
For the next few days since she came into the office, Wonwoo helped Emma get used to the feel of things in the Finance Department. At least, that was his intention. 
From the looks of it, Emma already knew the ins-and-outs of managing a company’s cash inflow and outflow, as well as the other gritty, more technical details that came with accounting for each and every cent. She managed to prepare and present several sets of data that his previous boss had trouble organizing to the current board of directors within two days’ time. 
Her work ethic was admirable—she got the job done quickly and efficiently, and that made her earn the respect of her subordinates faster than Wonwoo had seen them warm up to their previous bosses. It would have been the perfect relationship between the new department head and her employees, if it weren’t for Emma’s stone cold behavior towards other people. 
Not only did she look different from the Emma he knew in high school, but she acted differently too. Wonwoo couldn’t picture this Emma purposely making a fool out of herself just to make the people around her laugh. This Emma wanted the entire team to get the work handed to them done as soon as possible, and if they did, the most they’d receive in return is a mere nod in approval and nothing else.
It was for that reason that employees would start calling her the Ice Queen. Though she wasn’t some tyrant that gave people an unreasonable workload—she was actually very lenient and fair about the division of tasks—her people skills needed a little work. 
That or Emma was purposely shutting everyone out with her chilly attitude. 
Wonwoo had a few clues as to why she’d want to do that, but he’s a secretary, not a therapist. The only thing he could do about it was to keep his silence.
But then came a day when Emma asked him to come into her office to do something he completely expected from her but didn’t at the same time.
“Are you still in touch with Leo, Gavin, and Ezra?” she asked him, not even bothering to look up from the report she’s reading off her PC.
The question caught Wonwoo off-guard and it was obvious Emma caught on to his reaction if the tiny smirk that curved across her lips was anything to go by. Still, he took it in stride—breathing in through his nose as he thought about his answer.
He hasn’t been in touch with any of them since his high school graduation. All their attempts at reaching out to Wonwoo to invite him for a quick game of ball or a round of drinks somewhere in the city were all ignored. Not even turned down—ignored. 
Leo was the most persistent about it. After all, they were best friends. But after several years of Wonwoo not even bothering to give their invites a single glance, Leo stopped reaching out altogether. Wonwoo's life became a lot more peaceful since he cut ties with them, and he never really regretted the decision to do so. 
But perhaps the universe really was telling him to pay the price for his past inaction now that Emma was bringing up the past on a regular Wednesday afternoon. 
“No, ma’am,” he told her honestly. “Do you want me to reach out to them? Their contact details are pretty easy to get our hands on.”
Emma sighed quietly before meeting his gaze, an unreadable look hovering across her face. “Mmm. Yeah, I’d like that. But aren't you going to ask why I want to contact them again?”
He wanted to, but Wonwoo learned that in his line of work, the last thing he should do was ask questions. It made him wonder if Emma was purposely setting him up on some sort of conversational bear trap, but seeing as he didn’t really have anything to lose by giving, he chose to relent. 
“...Why?”
The silence of her office rang in his ears as Emma typed away on her keyboard. It was a mechanical one with tactile switches that matched the color of her desktop wallpaper. He didn’t take her to be someone who cared enough about aesthetics to that degree, but then again, Wonwoo never really got a chance to get to know her back then. 
He was too much of a coward to do so.
Once she was done, Emma got up from her ergonomic chair (which also matched her desktop setup), leveling her gaze with Wonwoo's even if the latter was easily a head taller than she was. Something about the glint in her eyes made him swallow the lump in his throat. Not to mention that sweet yet chilly smile that graced her bright red lips.
“It’s really simple, Wonwoo,” she told him with a laugh. 
“I want revenge.” 
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And that’s how their little team was formed.
It was a two-person job. Emma entrusted Wonwoo with digging up the information she needed about the three men she wanted to bring down, all while she was in charge of putting their plans into motion by heading over to the front lines. 
Gavin was an easy target. Unlike the other two, he’s the only one who pursued professional basketball and for a while, he amassed quite the number of fans and admirers because of his outstanding plays. What’s more was that he managed to wife up a beauty queen who’s already conquered the international stage a few years back. Now with their first baby on the way, one would think that Gavin Kim has a picture perfect life.
But further down the road, talk about how he’s actually a womanizing wife beater started to seep out of the cracks and crevices of the athletic industry. The allegations were serious, but no one really bothered batting an eye. It’s normal. Lots of athletes are like that. We can't do anything about it.
It was easy to get a hold of which gym Gavin frequents to maintain his physique. He preferred working out in public facilities instead of the one provided for his team because it gave him all the freedom to ogle and flirt with other women who just happened to be hitting the gym on days he was on the prowl. 
Wonwoo even added a little footnote in the file he prepared that said likes to engage in post-workout coitus in the shower rooms. Emma rolled her eyes in disgust when she read it, but made sure to keep it in mind.
The day finally came when she’d collect enough evidence to ruin Gavin’s career. Emma hasn’t dropped by the gym in a while—work having sapped her energy too much to let her psych herself back into working out. But she realized she didn’t have to act out too much because the moment she started operating the treadmill right next to Gavin’s, he was already checking her out.
He didn’t seem to recognize who she was, unlike Wonwoo. But then again Gavin was easily the stupidest out of her trio of high school bullies. This man was all brawn and no brains, which was why it was all too easy for Emma to seduce him in the showers of this shoddy gym not thirty minutes since she’d arrived.
It wasn’t the most pleasant experience. The last thing Emma wanted was to have this idiotic man inside of her so she offered to go on her knees and blow him instead—something that Gavin was all too happy to relent to. 
He didn’t even boast a cock of considerable size. It probably wasn’t any longer than her middle finger, and for a split second, she wondered why his beauty queen wife stayed with him despite having a cock that didn’t back up his cocky attitude. It was probably the money.
Emma didn’t waste much time though. Wonwoo visited this gym only a few hours prior to plant a bug somewhere inside the specific shower stall they were currently occupying. She just had to hope she and Gavin were positioned well enough so the camera would get a full view of what they were doing. 
It was the longest twenty minutes of Emma’s life, and she had to go home right away to disinfect her mouth about ten times, but hey. All in the name of vengeance, right?
At around eight in the evening on that same Saturday, her phone lit up with an email notification from Wonwoo. 
From: Wonwoo Jeon  Subject: CLASSIFIED Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well. I retrieved our bug from the gym earlier today and extracted the videos taken before properly disposing of it. Attached to this email is the MP4 file of our evidence against Mr. Gavin Kim. Around the time this message arrives to you, I have simultaneously sent said evidence to Mr. Kim’s managers, sponsors, teammates, other colleagues, and of course, his wife.  The only difference between their emails and yours is that this is a self-destructing message. Once you’ve closed this window, it will be deleted from your inbox without a trace. So if you are interested in watching the video below, best save it to your device of choice for better perusal. If you have any further questions and concerns, I am merely a text message away.  Regards,  Wonwoo Jeon Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department PLEDIS Insurance 
Like hell she was going to watch it.
The moment Emma finished reading through Wonwoo's overly formal email, she quickly exited the window and, true to his word, the message itself had disappeared. Despite being a fairly new player to the game, she had to commend all the precautions Wonwoo was setting to make sure her plans were a success. 
It made her wonder if his previous bosses have also asked him to do shady things under the company’s nose in the past. Whether or not that's true, she was reaping the benefits of his expertise, so she had no room for complaints. 
As long as she had Wonwoo, she’d get to punish everyone who wronged her without fail.
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Gavin’s downfall followed soon after. 
Tabloids were their best friend in that scenario. The thumbnail of the video that Wonwoo spread around like some virus that wouldn’t stop replicating headlined every single paper, talking about how one of the most promising basketball stars of their generation had fallen prey to his own vices.
It was a good thing that not only was Wonwoo careful enough to not leave digital footprints as he sent out those emails, but he also edited the video to keep Emma’s identity a secret. As Gavin’s world started to crumble before his eyes—him being kicked off the starting roster of the team, his wife leaving him behind, and the public execution of his reputation—Emma simply shared a bottle of aged wine from Tuscany with the man who helped her pull off a wonderful performance.
“You’re not too bad,” she mused as she took a small sip, crossing her legs from where she’s seated unceremoniously on the edge of her desk. “You're surprisingly more on-board with this plan than I thought. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were never friends with Gavin in the first place.” 
Wonwoo retained his stoic demeanor, not having touched the glass Emma offered him simply because it was against company regulations to intoxicate himself on the job. “If my boss tells me to ruin someone's life, I'm mandated to do it. I’m just doing what’s written on my job description, ma’am.”
Emma’s lips stretched into a grin as she threw her head back with a laugh. She leaned in closer to Wonwoo, who seemed wholly unfazed by the fact that the gesture granted him an ample view of her cleavage through her blouse. 
“Does your job description cover watching and editing your boss' sex scandal so you can mass send it to hundreds of people?” She giggled before leaning back to take another sip of her drink. “You’re in the green for now, Wonwoo. Keep it up and I might just have a pay raise arranged for you with HR if our next escapade is a success.”
He hummed in understanding. “Who’s next?”
In usual Emma fashion, she didn’t give him a straight answer right away. Instead, she hopped back to the carpeted floor of her office—not even wobbling in those thin heels she’s wearing—before rounding her desk to access her computer. 
“Have you been watching TV lately? Primetime soap operas?” she asked him as she clicked away on her screen. 
Wonwoo shook his head. “They don’t really interest me, ma’am.”
“I figured they wouldn’t. But this might.”
Emma gestured for him to peer at her monitor and Wonwoo wordlessly followed suit, getting up from his seat and standing behind her. Flashed on the screen was an article from a more reputable news outlet that featured two co-stars who played the main couple in a popular network’s newest drama. 
“Ezra Lee and Alaina Park…” Wonwoo muttered under his breath before his eyes flickered to Emma. “You have any leads I can work with?”
His boss chuckled before looking up at him with an expectant smile. “Someone's determined. I never thought I’d get to see someone so eager to do the dirty work for me.”
Wonwoo shrugged. “Miss Emma, I'm not sure if you're aware but desk work gets boring sometimes. You’re right. This is a lot more interesting.”
“Alright, then,” Emma chuckled before retrieving both of their wine glasses and handing Wonwoo's back to him. “Unlike Gavin, I don't have a lot of surface-level leads with Ezra. He’s a celebrity—their reputation needs to be squeaky clean, so it makes sense why I can’t dig up anything about him through regular means. But this should be a piece of cake for you, right?”
Wonwoo stared at the bright red liquor inside the expensive glass, gaze darting to the wicked smile playing on Emma’s lips. If he looked a little closer, he would be able to tell that the shade of her lipstick matches the color of the liquor in her hands. 
He took it from her grasp with a sigh, clinking the edges of their glasses together before downing the entire thing in one fell swoop. The wine was aged well, and had somewhat of a sweet aftertaste, but despite the appealing flavor, Wonwoo reminded himself to never drink on the job ever again. 
“I’ll get back to you once I have the information you need.”
Wonwoo swiftly left Emma’s office after that little victory party. Even with his new sideline of being his boss’s lead henchman, he still had a lot of work to do for PLEDIS Insurance. And that included telling the other employees to quit horsing around in the break room when their designated lunch break ended hours ago.
“Sir Wonwoo,” one of said employees, Soonyoung, snickered before throwing an arm over Wonwoo's shoulders. “You've been hanging out in Miss Emma's office pretty frequently. Is there something going on? You became close real quickly.”
“Yeah” said one Seokmin, who’s still snacking on a wafer despite Wonwoo's scolding. “Boss, we know you're not the fuck-your-way-up kind of guy, but who knows, right? But with your position right now, do you really need it?”
Seungkwan, the last member of their unruly trio, slapped Seokmin’s arm with a scowl. “Hey! Do you really have to say it to his face? Oh, boss, if you make a report about these two, please know I have nothing to do with whatever they're saying.”
Soonyoung snickered. “Are you sure about that? Weren't you the one who first noticed that Sir Wonwoo was stepping inside Miss Emma's office more frequently—”
“Hey! Boss told us to scram, didn't he?! Let's go.”
Seungkwan quickly ushered his two friends out of the break room, scolding them in a hushed tone before they all went back to their respective cubicles. Wonwoo shook his head with a sigh, muttering something about inevitable rumors as he made himself a cup of coffee.
Was that how they perceived Wonwoo’s sudden closeness with the department head? That he was fucking Emma in the solitude of her office? Well, the idea of a boss having illicit relations with their secretary wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s heard about how the head of the Advertising Department gets frisky with his secretary through the corporate grapevine. But just because it was a popular trope among the employees’ strange fantasies, it didn’t mean it applied to himself and Emma as well.
They were strictly professional: he did the dirty work and she paid him in full. That was all there was to it.
(But what people don’t know was that editing Gavin’s scandal wasn’t exactly the walk in the park Emma thought it was.
Despite being one of the most indifferent people in the company, Wonwoo was still a man. Seeing his boss, whose body would be coveted by anyone who dared to want her, in such a compromising position excited an…unexpected physiological reaction out of him.
His resolve was as sturdy as steel, however. Instead of taking care of the obvious problem in his pants as he edited the scandalous video, Wonwoo dealt with it by taking a long, cold shower until all the blood that rushed down south started circulating properly again.
He told himself not to think about it come morning.)
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“A drug den?”
Even Emma was baffled by the news that Wonwoo brought her the following week—a scowl of disbelief permanently etched on her face as she scanned the file her secretary prepared for her. Wonwoo merely stood at her side, waiting for her to finish going through the data he’s gathered. 
And he sure hoped she understood every single word printed on it. He practically risked his life trying to investigate Ezra’s secret business. No wonder it was so hard to dig up any dirt on him—dead men tell no tales after all.
“This is…�� Emma swallowed thickly before continuing, “way above my expectations. If he was just getting faded on his own with a private dealer, I'd understand. Lots of celebrities do recreational drugs. But for him to head an entire operation? Where'd he find the time on top of his taping schedules?” 
Wonwoo sighed. “I would’ve been able to investigate further if his men weren't so meticulous. They're fiercely loyal to Ezra. Couldn’t bribe him like we did with Gavin’s gym coach.” 
“And you made sure to keep your identity under lockdown?”
“Positive.”
Emma drummed her fingers across the smooth surface of her work desk—brows furrowed as she stared into nothingness. Though they’ve only been working together for roughly six months at most, Wonwoo knew her well enough to realize she hit a wall.
It made him wonder if this was where she would draw the line. Their success with Gavin gave them both an unexpected high, sure, but Wonwoo recognized that this game they were playing was a dangerous one. The people they were trying to take down had more money and connections than the two of them could ever hope to get their hands on. 
But one thing that he failed to recognize right away about Emma was that she’s always been grossly ambitious. 
“The file you gave me also mentioned na he was hoping to insure his new house in Incheon,” she pointed out. “Care to tell me why you decided to include that?”
“I know you told me not to involve the company in this as much as we can, but I couldn’t think of any other way to penetrate into his circle.” Wonwoo adjusted his necktie, suddenly feeling like he’s being watched by the hawk that was his boss. “I’ve been told that he’s wary of people. Side effects of the cocaine, probably. Though the info broker sounded like he was joking, it’s best to be wary of him. If he can hide behind the protection of his management and his family, we need to play our cards right and protect ourselves, too.”
Emma took a moment to process what her secretary just told her, nodding slowly before closing the folder containing Ezra’s file and locking it inside a hidden drawer beneath her desk. 
“Oh, Wonwoo. If only all men were as intelligent as you are,” she sighed, getting up from her seat before pinching his face. “Good work. Let's go out for drinks later. My treat.”
Wonwoo's face twisted with confusion. “For what? Doing my job?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “For going above and beyond every single time. You think you're only good at doing dirty work? At being my errand boy? You never fall behind your quotas here in the office either, you know. I think that in itself is a cause for celebration.”
Now that she’s reasoned it out, Wonwoo was even more weirded out by this strange turn of events. In the six months that Emma Rodriguez has spent as the head of PLEDIS Insurance’s Finance head, she never failed to uphold that arctic cold façade. She treated both executives and regular employees with the same degree of cut-throat harshness. 
And that’s when Wonwoo realized that she didn’t really treat him the way she treated them.
Huh. Did the Ice Queen have a melting point after all?
Despite his extensive protests, however, Wonwoo let Emma rope him into grabbing dinner and drinks at a food hub several districts away from their office. The fewer people who could recognize them outside, the better. Of course, he pleaded and reminded her several times that she was his boss and she really didn’t have to—
“Hey! Keep drinking!” Emma slurred with a huff, face red from the alcohol as she pushed another pint of beer into Wonwoo's face. “Why aren't you drunk yet, huh, Wonwoo Jeon? Are you God? Maybe that's why you're so good at obtaining information for me. Ah! No! Maybe you're the devil! Right, what we're doing isn't exactly good nor is it legal…”
Wonwoo exhaled long and hard as his boss continued blabbering nonsense across from him at their shared table. One glance at the smartwatch on his wrist told him that it was near midnight and that he should probably bring Emma home before she could make a scene. 
But…maybe they could stay for a few minutes more.
“Miss Emma? Are you sleepy?”
“Hm? Why would I be sleepy? We're drinking, aren't we?” 
“You're half-asleep on the table, so.”
At the prospect of being called out, Emma quickly shot into an upright position—looking around to see if anyone caught her drooling. When she realized she was in the clear, she narrowed her eyes at Wonwoo.
“Not a word about this in the office,” she warned, using one of the finished barbecue sticks on their empty plates to threaten him. “But...yeah. Alcohol makes me sleepy. Drive me home.”
Not even a please. This woman was really shameless even when drunk.
Not a peep of complaint was heard from Wonwoo when he drove Emma all the way to her condo unit in uptown Poblacion. Though he had to practically carry her inside and even help her out of her clothes and into her pajamas (at her request, not his own initiative), he simply told himself this was all part of his job. 
When his boss was safely tucked in bed, he was ready to bid her farewell and head back to his own place to catch up on some sleep. But for someone who was intoxicated beyond belief, Emma was still quite aware of her surroundings. The moment Wonwoo took a step away from her bed, her hand shot out to grab ahold of his wrist, making Wonwoo look back at her with an eyebrow raised.
“Wonwoo,” she murmured, face still smothered in her pillows despite her tight grip. “Can you stay?” 
“There's nowhere for me to sleep,” he chuckled. “I should go.”
“Then sleep next to me.”
The furrow on his brow merely deepened. He’d ask her to repeat what she said, but Wonwoo could recognize that Emma wasn’t really in the headspace to be reasonable right now. So instead of refuting her wish, Wonwoo carefully pried her fingers off his wrist so he could take off his work coat and fold it neatly on top of her vanity table.
This is all part of the job, he told himself.
Wonwoo laid on his boss’ duvet perfectly still. He didn’t want to make the mistake of touching her when he didn’t have explicit permission to do so. He was merely told to sleep next to her after all—nothing else.
But about fifteen minutes after he lied next to her, Emma shifted on her side of the bed—turning to him with a sleepy look in her eyes.
“You know,” she whispered, so softly, he would’ve missed it if he wasn’t as observant as he was. “I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.”
Emma probably won’t remember what she mumbled in her drunken stupor in the morning. But the sadness and honesty that underlined her words sent him back about ten years into the past. To a time when he was a much greater evil than those who directly wronged her.
An apology sizzled across the tip of his tongue—something that’s a decade overdue. But before Wonwoo could hope to let her hear his piece, Emma’s breathing had become even and shallow. 
She was already fast asleep.
He sighed, staring up at the dainty ceiling of her bedroom as he chuckled helplessly to himself.
“That’s why I’m making up for it now.”
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If Gavin’s case was a walk in the park, Ezra’s was an Olympic-level marathon.
Wonwoo didn’t want to dwell on the details anymore. To cut it short: he was going to cross out ‘exposing a notorious drug lord’ off his bucket list without thinking of doing it again ever. While he managed to get out unscathed during his investigation, it just so happened that their final altercation with Ezra ended up putting Wonwoo in the hospital. 
But so what if he fractured a couple of ribs trying to save Emma from being killed by that drug-addicted lunatic? As long as their goal to bring Emma’s enemies down was achieved, he’d gladly sustain any life-threatening injuries.
Which was, admittedly…strange. 
Long before Emma came into the picture as his boss, Wonwoo never would’ve pictured himself risking his neck for the benefit of someone else. Though he had an entire arsenal of skills and knowledge at his disposal, it would take more than just his generous salary to get him to put them to good use.
But with Emma, he found himself utilizing whatever means to help her exact her revenge—on people he once called his friends, much less.
He must be going insane. 
“Wonwoo…?”
Funnily enough, he ended up recalling everything that happened over the past two weeks first before recognizing that he was just regaining consciousness in the intensive care unit. Wonwoo's eyes hurt because of how bright the fluorescent lights were overhead, but for some reason, he didn’t flinch away from her relieved smile when it was a million watts brighter than the hospital’s indoor lighting.
“Good…day, ma’am,” he croaked out awkwardly, belatedly realizing that he didn’t know what time it was. “What day is it? Did someone fix your schedule for today? Did someone go over your meal plans in my stead? Were you—”
His endless stream of questions was interrupted by hacking fit—making Emma scramble for a glass of water on the table by his hospital bed, a concerned look lining her gaze.
“Don't talk too much,” she scolded him as he finished his drink. “You’ve been out for two days, idiot.”
Two days? 
Needless to say, he couldn’t do a thing about it once his boss started fussing over him. She called over doctors she personally knew and handpicked only the most competent of nurses to look after Wonwoo. How Emma could be the judge of that, Wonwoo wasn’t very sure, but he gladly let her take care of him for a change. 
After all, they successfully concluded another chapter in Emma’s little revenge story.
“When are we going to start with Leo?”
Wonwoo brought the matter up about three days after he woke up, right in the middle of eating the stale hospital food served to him for dinner. Emma, who was snacking on some takeout fast food, hummed before tossing a french fry into her mouth.
“You're not even healed yet, and you're thinking about work?” she sighed before pointing a fry in his direction. “I’m still paying you your regular wage even if you're stuck here. You don’t have to worry about making ends meet so much, Wonwoo. You just need to rest—”
“But I don’t want to rest, I want to be useful to you,” he interrupted her gruffly, which was strange of him because he never interrupted his employers. 
For a moment, Wonwoo thought he’d be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing even if he was still recovering. Emma never let other people talk back to her without consequences. But instead, his boss threw her head back with a laugh that bordered on a snort. It’s a look that Wonwoo had seen on her time and time again—a look that he noticed Emma only showed to him. 
Back then, he didn’t really think of her smile all that much. But now…
“You’re being useful enough just by being alive, Jeon,” she reassured him, that grin of hers unwavering. “Enough questions about Leo. I'm not even thinking about him yet because compared to the previous two? He’s a lot easier to track down.”
Wonwoo shot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“Same approach lang with Ezra.” She flashed him a toothy smile. “We’re going to get him to insure some of his properties under PLEDIS. But instead of us going to him, he'll be going to us instead.”
“I…? Sorry, ma’am. I don’t follow.”
Emma stifled a soft laugh behind her palm, unwrapping the burger included in her takeout meal before taking a bite of considerable size. “The Choi Corporation is expanding a chain of shopping malls somewhere in Jeju. Leo Choi personally contacted our CEO and there we have it: another big shot client.”
Another person to drag down to hell.
“Is that good enough for you?” 
Wonwoo was still processing the news as they both finished up their respective meals. He should probably be glad that Emma didn’t decide to put their secret operation on hold just because he was out of commission. But something about how smoothly they’re progressing into the next phase of Emma’s big revenge plan that made him wary of treading any further. 
He felt like he was being paranoid—probably the aftermath of almost crossing to the other side because of what happened with the Ezra incident. Wonwoo couldn’t help but be wary of any and all threats to both his life and Emma’s, and it was for a good reason.
“Okay,” Wonwoo breathed, wincing a little when he felt the spot where his ribs broke ache at how fast he inhaled. “What do you want me to do for now? Investigate? Trace his whereabouts?”
Emma’s smile suddenly turned ice cold. “I want you to rest, Wonwoo. Do I have to keep repeating myself?”
“But—”
“No buts. Boss’ orders—I'm your boss, right?” 
Ah, there’s the Ice Queen they all knew and loved. 
Fine. Maybe he could use a break from all that quote-unquote field work he just did. But one thing about his entire hospitalization still remained unanswered.
“What did you tell HR? About…this?” Wonwoo gestured towards his battered but healing body. “You’ve got the charisma, but I’m pretty sure it’s difficult even for you to go into cahoots with the other employees of PLEDIS. Much more, our human resources head.”
Emma waved away his concerns with a shake of her head. “You're so persistent, aren't you? Don’t think about HR. Or Leo. Or the rest of our plans. Can’t you be a normal salaryman and be happy that you have a break from all the things I make you do?”
“I told you, Miss Emma. I just want to make myself useful.”
“And I told you that you're the least useful in your current state. So give. It. A. Rest,” she threatened, putting emphasis on every syllable. 
But behind her intimidating façade was someone who actually cared for him. The details were still a bit muddled in Wonwoo's head, but he remembered being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. Remembered how Emma never let go of his hand as they made the trip all the way. And how he heard her pray for him to make it out alive despite being a well-known agnostic.
Once their conversation had mellowed down, he laid back against the steady elevation of his bed, watching the scenic city lights glimmer outside the window of his hospital room—just behind the woman who made his life a lot more interesting.
He couldn’t wait to be useful to her again.
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“I hate this. I fucking hate this so much.”
Wonwoo spared his employer a quick glance as she practically glared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. He’d been browsing through a sports car catalog tucked underneath the hotel’s coffee table, but watching Emma have a furious meltdown about her wedding was more worth his time. 
“You're the one who said that there'll more benefits if you accepted the marriage proposal,” her secretary reminded, crossing his legs as he leaned back on the couch he was sitting on. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Of course I was just…gaslighting myself about this entire fucked up situation!” Emma growled as she stomped over to him with a scowl. “Can’t fucking believe my dad agreed to marry me off just like that, too. After all his talk that I needed to love whoever I'm supposed to marry...”
Wonwoo shrugged. “Anyone can be blinded by money—especially if it's from the Chois.”
“Even you?”
It’s a question that sunk into the room with a rhetorical implication. Emma was quick to exchange the earrings her stylist chose for her with something more suited to her taste—a pair that didn’t sparkle all that much but was worth more than six months of Wonwoo's salary. In her reflection on the vanity mirror, he could clearly see the way her red lips parted in concentration as she clipped the earrings in place. 
“No,” Wonwoo responded even if he knew she wasn’t looking for an answer. “I’m more easily blinded by other things, ma’am.”
Emma glanced behind her with a puzzled look, not getting his drift. “Like what?” 
Wonwoo didn’t dare think twice. 
He got up from his once comfortable position on the couch, closing the distance that sat between him and Emma in long, calculated strides. She didn’t seem fazed by his sudden need to walk over, but the moment Wonwoo was behind her, she stiffened when he reached a hand in front of her face. Then, with a firm yet featherlight touch, her secretary wiped off the lipstick that stained past her lip line with his fingers—not once breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. 
“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you, now would it?” He smiled before pulling his hand back. “I need to keep you on your toes sometimes, too, Miss Emma.”
He half-expected her to scoff and brush off his attempt at being smart with her. Emma was a no-nonsense kind of person, and with the wedding happening soon, Wonwoo understood why she’d be more high-strung than usual. 
But instead of acting the way she always did with him, Emma took Wonwoo by surprise when she fisted his silken necktie in her manicured nails, tugging him down so that their eyes were leveled with each other. Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to wrestle Wonwoo into complete submission, but this was his boss they were talking about.
There’s a glint in those sharp eyes of hers that had his heart beating off the charts. This wasn’t the gaze of someone entitled the Ice Queen of their office. No, there’s something warm in there—borderline sensual. And before Wonwoo could even hope to figure out what it was, Emma was already closing her eyes and sealing their lips together like some unspoken pact. 
It’s an inconsequential kiss. Wonwoo has made out with both men and women alike—all desperate gasps and lust-fueled passion—but somehow, none of those experiences could hold a candle to the way Emma Rodriguez pecked his lips for a fraction of a second before pulling away. 
“You're getting more and more insufferable,” she muttered, resting her forehead against his. “You were never this cheeky before. What happened?”
You, he wanted to tell her. You happened.
At that point, Wonwoo's brain was merely operating on carnal instinct alone. He lunged forward to capture her lips again, making her gasp in surprise as he snaked a strong arm around her waist. Thank fucking god Emma’s wedding dress had a simple design—no pretentious frills to obstruct his movements. 
Despite the fact that this woman—his boss—was getting married in less than two hours, Wonwoo couldn’t even give a damn. He swiped all the makeup boxes and accessories off the vanity table, propping Emma up on the horizontal surface as he kissed her until she saw stars. 
“Wonwoo,” she sighed against his lips, thighs inching apart as he bunched the long hem of her gown up to her waist. He wondered distantly if Emma was going to ask him to stop—to see reason. But the glazed look in her eyes told him otherwise.
“More.”
Wonwoo wanted nothing more than to give her more. He’d do everything she could ever dream of asking him. Never mind the fact that it was more than a little messed up for him to consider fucking his boss right before she’s married off to the man who tormented her endlessly at sixteen. 
Nobody else mattered—not Leo, not the director, not even Emma’s intricate revenge plot that was years in the making. At that moment, only the two of them existed, only separated by a few layers of clothing before they could finally become one. 
But Wonwoo was abruptly reminded why he always chose reason before ambition long before he met Emma. Dreams and delusions were bound to end when you least expected them to. Reality, on the other hand, would always remind you of life’s harshest truths.
“Miss Emma?” They both could hear the voice of Leo's personal assistant outside the door to the hotel room, preceded by a few short knocks. “It’s time for your prenup shoot. Director Rodriguez is also looking for Sir Wonwoo. Is he in there with you?”
Whatever dream the two of them have fabricated only minutes ago had been erased from existence—all that was left was a bride-to-be with her dress ruffled in all the wrong places, and a pitiful secretary with red lipstick stains adorning his face.
“Yeah, he’s here with me,” Emma yelled over to the doorway, eyes refusing to part from Wonwoo's. “We’ll be down soon. Thanks, Christina.”
“Okay, ma’am. I'll just wait for you in the lobby.”
Wonwoo counted to ten before peeling himself away from Emma, quickly striding towards the bathroom to get some tissues both for himself and his employer. But while he was wiping off the lipstick on the corners of his mouth, Wonwoo immediately noticed the shift in the atmosphere.
Emma was already busy straightening herself out—smoothing down the creases in her gown and retouching her makeup as best as she could without her stylists. Wonwoo wouldn’t have minded the silence, it’s exactly the kind of setting he preferred working in. 
But just when he thought he’d managed to melt the Ice Queen’s heart over the past year, she turned arctic cold all over again. 
“After the wedding, tell my driver to accompany me to Leo's penthouse. Though I despise the idea, we have to go home together to keep up the act for everyone to see.” She gave her orders the same way she used to tell Wonwoo to sort the company’s financial reports—straight to business with little room for playing around. “Other than that, I don't have any more orders. You can rest easy for the day, Wonwoo.”
He felt like he should say something to address what just happened between them five minutes ago. To ask why she was pretending as if they weren’t breathing each other in like all the oxygen on the planet had gone in a flash. But Wonwoo wasn’t some desperate fool that overestimated his place in Emma’s life. 
“Duly noted, ma’am,” he muttered with the same degree of aloofness she’d just given him before tossing the soiled tissues in the trash. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”
Emma didn’t even break face as Wonwoo's footsteps resounded on the carpeted floor. She didn’t even spare him a second glance. But then again…
He was her secretary, and she was his employer. 
That was all there was to it.
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Much to Wonwoo's surprise, Leo's case was closed much sooner than he thought it would be.
Before Emma could even make it to the cathedral, the commotion had already started. Wonwoo had arrived earlier in the venue with Emma’s father, the director of PLEDIS Insurance, and were just about to take their seats among the other principal sponsors when the television screens mounted all over the church suddenly started playing a video.
A video that Wonwoo has already seen before.
He didn’t have to glance at Leo to know that he was sporting the most horrified look he could muster upon seeing one of your many sex scandals having an impromptu screening at the cathedral. Collective gasps and disgusted remarks were heard in a chorus of murmurs that reached all the way up to the high ceilings. 
Wonwoo could hear Leo's assistant, Christina—who turned out to be part of the sex parties her boss secretly indulged in—barking orders for the church staff to cut the feed. But it was too late. Those who needed to see the truth have already gotten their fill.
Recognizing that his daughter couldn’t possibly be wed to a man with a reputation that’s been tarnished in a church, of all places, Director Rodriguez ordered Wonwoo to contact the bridal car driver and tell him to send Emma straight home instead. It’s a job that Wonwoo got done fairly quickly, and despite the numerous text messages that Emma sent him demanding answers about what happened, he didn’t respond to any of them right away. 
After a few hours of digging around, Wonwoo eventually found out that one of Leo's cousins was behind the public exposé. Apparently, said cousin was able to obtain the same footage that Emma acquired and was able to sabotage Leo's attempt at seizing their family riches before Emma could even put her plans into motion. 
Well, at least someone else already did the dirty work for them.
As usual, Wonwoo collated all the information he’s gathered in a concise email. This was how he kept Emma up to speed about their progress—through self-destructing emails. He informed her about the involvement of Leo's cousin and how the trash had taken itself out, ensuring that Leo Choi had fallen from the false pedestal he’s clung onto for years.  
Their behind-the-scenes mission has been fulfilled.
While he didn’t expect Emma to respond enthusiastically, receiving radio silence in return wasn’t something Wonwoo had anticipated either. But he opted not to read into it much. She must’ve been royally pissed that Leo's demise wasn’t brought about by her own hand, and Wonwoo respected that.
The following Monday after the canceled wedding, however, he ended up finding out the reason behind her silence. 
“Boss,” sobbed Seokmin when Wonwoo timed in at the office. “Please don't leave!”
Immediately backing him up was Soonyoung, who didn’t hesitate to hug Wonwoo, even giving him a few pats on the shoulder as if they were old drinking buddies. “It's okay, Sir Wonwoo. You've been here long enough. Maybe it's about time you found your path elsewhere.”
…Huh?
“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo voiced out his confusion. “You’re speaking like I got fired.”
As if on cue, the third member of their trio walked in on the conversation as he sipped on his usual iced americano. Seungkwan stared at Wonwoo with a puzzled expression before saying:
“But weren't you fired, sir? Miss Emma announced it this morning, but I think she left right away after, too.”
Not privy to the way the pieces started to click in his head, Seokmin and Soonyoung kept consoling Wonwoo as he made his way to his (old) cubicle. Emma had been one step ahead too—someone already having packed away most of his belongings in storage boxes. Not to mention the notice of contract termination sitting on his desk. Effective immediately, it says.
“I really don't get it though” Seungkwan droned behind him. “You? The best secretary in the city? Fired just like that?”
Seokmin nodded. “I don't understand it either. You two were business-as-usual after the wedding. Miss Emma must've been so pissed that she didn't get married that she laid off the boss here.”
“True,” Soonyoung agreed with a snicker. “Boss, maybe Miss Emma's just being unreasonable. I bet she'll be begging for you to come back in a few days' time.”
Yeah. That’s what the situation would seem like to an outsider. But Wonwoo knew perfectly well that Emma wasn’t bluffing about this. She fired him for a reason that’s been stewing for more than a decade. Even if Gavin, Ezra, and Leo have had their taste of justice, Emma’s revenge plot wasn’t finished like Wonwoo thought it was.
Because Wonwoo was one of her targets all along, too.
I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.
“Where is she?” 
Seungkwan perked up. “Uh, maybe she went home? She told us something about feeling a bit under the weather?”
Seokmin nodded. “She's probably in her penthouse or something. If i were you, I'd start making it up to her.”
“Hey, you're talking like they're actually dating,” Soonyoung scolded with a laugh.
Not even bothering to thank them, Wonwoo turned on his heel and made a beeline for the office entrance—dead set on doing exactly what Seokmin jokingly suggested.
This is why I'm making it up to you, he mused with an exasperated air as he buckled up in his car. 
Can’t you just let me in?
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Emma spent her first Monday after the entire wedding disaster with Leo holed up in her unit—stuffing herself full of ice cream. The only reason she bothered going to the office today was to formally announce that her secretary Wonwoo Jeon was fired—just like she’d been planning since the moment she met him again as her secretary after all these goddamn years.
Her high school bullies have been put in their place. Her fifteen-year revenge plot was finally over.
But why did she feel so fucking depressed about it?
She sighed pitifully when she realized she’d already emptied her tub of double dutch ice cream, finally deigning to get up from the couch to deposit it in the kitchen for later disposal. But just when she was about to continue moping in her living room, the doorbell to her unit buzzed from the entrance, making her glance that way curiously.
It could be her next-door neighbor. A kind, elderly woman who lived with her daughter. She borrowed Emma’s rosemary spices yesterday—something that she barely used because she often opted to go for food deliveries instead of whipping up her own meals. 
With that reasoning in mind, she didn’t bother checking who was at the door through the peephole. She simply undid the locks before opening the door—only to come face-to-face with—
“Hey,” Wonwoo sighed as he jammed his foot between the door and the doorframe. “Ma’am, please talk to me first. Did you think I wouldn't catch onto what you were trying to do?”
“Why do I have to explain myself to you? You’re fired, right?” Emma growled as she pushed the door with her back, but sadly, Wonwoo easily overpowered her. At least he was decent enough to not let himself in—he simply lingered out in the hallway with a placid look on his face. “What?”
“Emma,” her ex-secretary addressed her for the first time without any formalities. “If you fired me as vengeance for not helping you all those years ago, I get it. I deserve it, even. But after what happened sa hotel…
“You can’t convince me there’s nothing between us anymore.”
Her breath hitched, face growing warm at the reminder of that intimate moment they shared hours before she was supposed to get married. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could still feel Wonwoo's mouth on hers. But that wasn’t a thought that was healthy to entertain at the moment.
“What are you saying? That was all part of the plan, you know?” She bluffed with a mirthless laugh, fully turning to face him as she crossed her arms. “Make you smitten enough with me to let your guard down. Look, you didn't expect me to fire you, did you?”
“No, but you can’t fool me, Emma,” Wonwoo chuckled with a self-satisfied smirk. “You wanted me too—that was real. If I’m mistaken, then make me leave. Call security on me. If I’m the nuisance you so desperately want me to be, then get rid of me here and now.”
The silence was thick between them. Emma was practically shaking with frustration as Wonwoo stared down at her with that overconfident look on his face. She wanted nothing but to punch him, hit him, slap him—
Kiss him.
Maybe Wonwoo was right. Maybe Emma did want him more than she led herself to believe. 
Because why the hell did she fist the front of Wonwoo's work shirt before pulling him inside her penthouse? Why did she slam him against the door, earning a sexy groan from him as she crushed their lips together?
Was this a healthy way to deal with your current predicament? No—definitely not. But it felt too fucking good to pass up on.
Wonwoo, however, was all too quick to regain control—hooking one of Emma’s thighs around his waist as she gasped into his mouth. She could practically feel him smirk against her lips, and though she’s loath to admit, it only made her want him even more.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he chuckled before peppering her neck with love bites. “You might need to kill me first before I stop pursuing you.”
Emma spared him a breathless laugh that quickly melted into a moan when Wonwoo's hand found itself inside her oversized sleep shirt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were obsessed with me, Jeon.”
His fingers were warm against her skin, and Emma couldn’t help the full-on shudder that racked her body when Wonwoo grazed her bare nipples. The smile on his face was wicked—dangerous, even. 
“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, his breath fanning against her flushed face.
“What would you do if I was obsessed with you, Ma’am?”
Emma was well aware that Wonwoo knew the answer to his own question. It was obvious in the way he quickly picked her up from the floor, fully wrapping both her legs around his waist as he carried her towards her bedroom. But despite the carnal urgency in his grip, Wonwoo was awfully gentle as he laid her down on the mattress.
“Last chance to kick me out,” he murmured against her ear as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “You could exact your revenge on me even better, ‘no? I’m giving you the leeway to frame me for forced entry…among other things.”
God. She knew Wonwoo was a little crazy when he accepted Emma’s orders to help her make his old best friends suffer. But the way he looked at her with such crazed desire further confirmed her suspicions.
And she didn’t want her men any other way.
“Fuck me, Wonwoo,” she told him clearly before stripping her own clothes and laying herself bare for him to feast on—eyes lidded, desiring him just as much as he did her. “That’s an order.”
He shook his head with a chuckle, and Emma had to force herself not to drool over his perfectly built torso. If she had more patience, she would’ve taken her time worshiping every inch of Wonwoo's body, but he’d already set a fire in the pit of her stomach. One that she fully expected him to deal with sooner than later.
“So wet for me,” he observed with a lopsided smirk, pressing their foreheads together as he lathered his fingers with her slick. “Have you always wanted me this way? Do you touch yourself to the thought of me, Miss Emma?”
Yes. Fuck, yes. 
“That’s none of your business, Jeon,” Emma stubbornly insisted, keeping herself from moaning when his lips descended onto one of her hardened nipples. 
Wonwoo made good on the opportunity, using the fingers he’d used to feel up her slick cunt to rub her essence across the other bud he wasn’t suckling on. The effect was near immediate—Emma throwing her head back with a pretty little whimper as Wonwoo started to massage her breasts. 
Fuck. He’d always dreamed of getting to smother his face between them.
“Wonwoo,” she gasped out loud, hips bucking desperately when he bit down on her sensitive flesh. “F-Fuck me. Now.” 
“Demanding.” He pulled away from her sensitive nipples with a pop, staring up at her with a lustful gaze. “You enjoy ordering me around too much, you know?”
“You enjoy being ordered around, too,” Emma pointed out with a scoff, trying her best not to moan too loudly when Wonwoo's fingers started to toy with her leaking cunt again. “Just—I need you. Please.”
Ah, he never thought the day would come when he’d hear Emma Rodriguez begging for his cock.
“Okay, Ice Queen,” he relented with a playful laugh, kicking his underwear and trousers off as he pumped his already hard length. “Since you're so eager for me to fuck you, I’m not going to prep you anymore. You better not cry when my cock splits you open, okay?”
Hearing him talk so lewdly to her made her pussy gush with excitement. What’s more was that, not only was her secretary blessed with a face and body that gods would covet, but his cock was something she was afraid she’d keep looking for even when he was done with her.
He was awfully careful when he first pushed inside of her, sharp eyes riveted on her face as it twisted with both pain and pleasure alike. His size was something that one needed getting used to, and he wasn’t about to make his first time with Emma uncomfortable for her.
No, he wanted her to keep thinking about him even after they’ve had their fill of each other.
“Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he rasped against her neck, licking a long stripe along the column of her throat to make her shiver. “Too bad you already fired me. I always wondered what it would feel like to bend you over and fuck you in your office.” 
He could feel her pussy squeeze his cock even tighter at the shameless image she put in her head, making Wonwoo smirk with pride as he started to move. Emma mewled his name, grabbing his face as he chased his lips. He was all too willing to give her what she wanted, meeting her with an open-mouthed kiss as their tongues clashed together in time with his thrusts.
“W-Wonwoo,” she moaned into his mouth, hips eagerly meeting his. “Deeper. Fuck me deeper.”
And fuck her deeper, he did—Emma’s got him wrapped around her pretty manicured fingers, after all. 
Wonwoo was relentless with the way he pounded her into the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing much too loudly in his ears. But he didn’t fucking care. The feel of Emma’s velvet pussy walls pulsing around his cock sent his mind into a frenzy—fucking her until the bedframe creaked, until Emma was begging him to give her more, more, more—
All of a sudden, she gasped, “Coming, coming—!” 
If being inside her was life-changing, feeling her cum around his cock sent Wonwoo straight to heaven. Her cunt spasmed deliciously as Wonwoo helped her ride out her high—lips locked together as they breathed each other in. 
“Cum inside me,” she murmured deliriously into his mouth, practically rubbing her breasts—sensitive and littered with all the marks Wonwoo left on them—against his toned chest. “Make me yours, Jeon.”
He didn’t have to be told twice.
“God, I love you,” he sighed a little mindlessly, and those carelessly uttered words made Emma’s eyes widen with surprise before losing herself to the feeling of delirium. 
Wonwoo spilled his load inside her quivering cunt with a long-winded moan, feeling like he’d been shot through the head and was experiencing a level of euphoria that bordered on illegal. Emma moaned at the feel of his warm cum filling her to the brim, bringing him down for another sloppy kiss as the heat of the moment started to dissipate in the quiet atmosphere of their bedroom.
As their breaths started to settle, Emma was the first to glance at him—to meet his eyes. Wonwoo couldn’t find any trace of the arctic cold Ice Queen that practically told him to scram the other day at the hotel.
No, it was just Emma. 
His Emma.
“Can I still take back my verdict?” she muttered softly, inching closer to bury her face in his chest. Wonwoo instinctively pulled her in for a tender embrace, kissing the crown of her head with a smile.
“You mean the contract termination?” Wonwoo chuckled. “Take it up to HR, Miss Emma. I’m just a lowly secretary.”
All of a sudden, Emma rolled over so that she was seated upright on the bed. Wonwoo had to keep himself from groaning at the sight of her—hair disheveled and body sporting all his marks. Seeing her freshly fucked by him was doing things to his libido. 
“You’re not just my secretary, Wonwoo,” she sighed, twiddling with her fingers awkwardly. “I…I wasn’t going to fire you anymore. I got used to your company. I…
“I fell in love with you.” 
The words floated between them like a cloud that couldn’t easily be swept up by the wind. Wonwoo offered her a comforting smile before pulling her into a firm kiss.
“Yet you fired me anyway,” he pointed out with a laugh. “Why? You couldn’t deal with the fact that you fell in love with one of your high school bullies?”
That earned him a punch in the shoulder. “You’re not one of them. You’re different.”
“And you’re in love with me too, no? You said it yourself. Since when?”
Shaking his head, Wonwoo then pressed a soft, featherlight kiss on her nose—one that had Emma’s heart fluttering like she was a schoolgirl.
Gosh, this man. He’s fifteen years too late.
“Maybe I’ve always been a little in love with you. Who knows?” Wonwoo spared her a Cheshire cat smile. “There’s more where that came from though.”
Emma punched him in the chest this time—a bit too close to the spot where he broke a few ribs months prior. But he didn’t care.
She could send him to hell and back and he’d do it for her in a heartbeat.
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From: Wonwoo Jeon 
Subject: NOT-SO CLASSIFIED
Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well.
I heard that you dealt with quite a stressful client today. I’m very sorry that I wasn’t here to help you with the matter as I was given tasks to do elsewhere. In order to make up for this lapse on my part, I am cordially inviting you to dinner at 7PM tonight after work. 
Rest assured, the expenses shall be shouldered by me and your only job is to sit and look gorgeous as I wine and dine you for the evening. Sincerely hoping for your most favorable response.
Regards, 
Wonwoo Jeon
Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department
PLEDIS Insurance 
Your boyfriend :)
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end notes: this wasnt thoroughly proofread so if you spot some strange errors (aka sentences in a different language bc this fic was partly in filipino) here and there, pretend you didn't see em! as always, ur feedback means everything to me so scream in the tags or my ask as much as you want ^__^
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madschiavelique · 9 months
Note
okay so once miguel accidentally flashed his happy trail to his gf, she couldn’t stop thinking about it, constantly staring at his abdomen when she thought miguel didn’t see her (he did 😁). they just recently started dating, she was shy and inexperienced but she is just a human after all 😔 she lasted a week before she came to him looking embarrassed, desperate and defeated “miggy can you teach me how to suck your dick please 🥺👉🏻👈🏻”
long story short we need some good old dick appreciation 😉
AAAAA THIS IS SO SWEET i love it hehehe
summary : you ask miguel to teach you how to suck his dick (not proofread)
contents warning : SMUT (18+) minors dni, blow job (miguel receiving), lots of praise, miguel is so sweet and patient in this word count : 2,9k
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All it had taken was a casual glance, and your mind was infatuated with the idea. You were spending some time in Miguel's quarters when it happened, when your eyes were blessed by the sight before you.
He'd just got out of the shower, and as he hurriedly pulled on his T-shirt on the way out, his untied jogging bottoms had dropped slightly until your eyes drifted to his stomach and you saw it: his happy trail.
You'd only seen it for a brief moment, Miguel's T-shirt covering it all too shortly after that blessed vision, and his hands properly re-tying the elastic of his jogging bottoms.
But it was enough to occupy your thoughts for days. As he was often dressed in his spider suit, you had very little opportunity to think about seeing it again, other than in its civilian clothes. But that didn't stop you from occasionally glancing down at his belly, and sometimes even lower. The moments when you realised what your eyes were looking for were often followed by a flush in your cheeks and the back of your neck.
It's just that... you didn't necessarily have a great deal of experience in this field, and you were immensely curious. You also wondered if Miguel was holding back. You'd already talked about it, and you wanted to take it slow, because after all you and Miguel hadn't been dating for very long.
But you were getting impatient by the day, so you tried to visit him a little more in his private appartment. Miguel seemed to find this suspicious, but how could you explain to him that your thoughts had been riveted on a single subject for days, and that was his happy trail and what was below it ?
You were trying to convince him to wear civilian clothes more often, using arguments along the lines of "when we're together you don't need to wear the suit, you wear it mainly for work, so when you're with me you don't need to wear it."
And then, you thought maybe giving him a blow job would relax him? He seemed so tense quite often, and you wanted him to feel good, you wanted to make him feel good.
And as the days went by, the questions multiplied. Is it big ? Of course it is, but how big ? Could your hand grab him properly or would you struggle with the width ? How did he taste in your mouth? What sounds would he make when you'd lick him ? How do you even... give a blow job ?
It was when your curiosity became unbearable and your own questions too much for you that one afternoon, while you were sitting in Miguel's apartment and he hadn't yet returned, you asked Lyla:
"Lyla, send me a good article on How To Give A Blow Job, please."
The orange pixel cloud had almost immediately taken off its heart-shaped tinted glasses.
"I beg your pardon?" she asked, eyes wide while her programmed eyelids fluttered as she watched you, "a good article on what?"
"You heard me very right, your system is 100% perfect: I want you to give me a good article on-"
"Yeah yeah i get it i'm just, um, surprised." she admitted, a virtual screen forming in the form of a tablet in her hands as she paused, hesitating and turning to you, "would you perhaps be interested in... different material?"
You raised an eyebrow, taking your computer and resting it on your thighs.
"What material ?"
"Well you know, the material," she replied with a little shrug.
"Huh?" you said, frowning as Lyla raised her eyebrows completely, as if taken aback by your answer.
"Let me just send you a link," she replied, sighing.
Within seconds, you received a link and opened it. It took you to a video that launched instantly. You gasped, immediately pausing and closing your computer. But your eyes had caught it well: two naked people, a woman lying between a man's legs as she took him in her mouth.
You hesitated between finding a way to fry Lyla's motherboard or congratulating her, but in the end you did neither. Any learning ways still brings knowledge somehow, right ?
You took a deep breath, then hesitantly reopened your computer. The page was still open, the video stopped on a scene that could not have been more erotic. Perhaps learning the basics wouldn't be too much?
So you started the video, turning the sound down to almost minimum, and watched. You tried to pay attention to the woman's gestures, how her hands acted, how she angled her head, how she...
"Cariño?"
The speed with which you closed the page and your computer surprised even you as you faced Miguel. Shit, he'd got home earlier than you thought, and you just hoped he hadn't heard too much…
"Oh babe you're home!" you say jovially, trying to act as if nothing had happened, hoping he hadn't noticed. "How was your day?"
He was standing up straight, one of his eyebrows raised. He took a step.
"Were you watching what I think you were watching?"
Shit, he'd definitely noticed. How could you want to escape from a spider on a situation like this with tenfold senses? You bit the inside of your lip nervously, feeling your cheeks heat up. Who knows, though, as long as he hadn't said exactly what he thought you'd seen, you might have a chance of getting out of this... however slim the chances?
"And," you asked as he took another step in your direction, your hands moving your laptop to the side as you turned to face him, cross-legged, "what do you think I was watching?"
He let out a little laugh from his nose, his tongue running over his canine teeth as he moved a little closer to you again.
"Don't play this little game with me." he said simply, your lips pressing into a thin line, "I think you and I both exactly know what was on that screen of yours just a few seconds ago."
You sighed, your shoulders relaxing with the gesture as he approached again, only a metre from the bed.
"Well yes, i was watching... what you think it is." he nodded as he crossed his arms over his vast torso.
"Porn," he affirmed, the word falling easily from his lips.
"Yes," you said with an embarrassed chuckle, "that's the name for it..." you nodded, his eyes watching you, no doubt trying to find out the reason behind this. "But I had my own reasons to do so, of course," you said to clear your throat.
"Which were?" his responses to your sentences were so quick that they seemed to stick to your every word.
You inhaled, straightening up, suddenly determined. The vision of his happy-trail came back into your mind, your eyes inevitably landing on where it must have been under the suit.
"Miguel," your eyes returned to his, "I want you to teach me how to suck your dick, please."
There was silence for a few seconds before Miguel smiled, the smile turning into a small laugh, his amused eyes looking into yours confused.
"So that's what the looks were about?"
You froze, your cheeks heating even more. All those looks you'd been giving him, all directed at his lower stomach and more, he'd noticed. You fancied the idea disappearing down a hole right now, and placed your hands on your face in embarrassment.
"Hey hey," he said softly, coming to kneel in front of you as his two large hands came to rest on yours to move them away from your face. "It's okay, it's just," he caressed your cheek, "took you long enough muñeca, you could've just asked me."
"I know," you said, your hand sliding over his as you pressed your cheek closer, "I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry about," he assured you, "but in the future, whenever you're thinking about something like that, or anything, you have to tell me. Okay ?"
You smile softly, "Okay."
He came over and kissed your lips chastely.
"So," he said, taking your hand in his, "you want to learn how to do this?"
You inhaled, nodding. He came to kiss you again tenderly, coming to sit on the bed and lay down. He pulled you against him as you kissed, his hand coming to rest on your for a second. He stopped the kiss for a moment, tapping his watch gently. You were so happy of finally being able to do this, you couldn't wait anymore.
"Learned anything from the video?" he asked, glancing at you.
You said nothing, just tilted your head slightly to one side as you shrugged on all fours above him.
"We'll see, but be careful with that kind of stuff. A lot of it doesn't really show anything actually pleasant, it's all for show. Alright? Cariño?" he informed, coming to stroke your cheek again as you nodded. "Good."
Then his suit began to depixelate, and your eyes lowered until you finally saw the happy trail again, and what was just below it.
Okay, now there might be a problem you thought, because the dick the girl was sucking in the video, which was hard, just approached the same size as Miguel's... which wasn't hard yet. He was, and will be too big for what you were about to do.
"Everything is alright cariño?" he asked worriedly, "are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," you replied immediately, perhaps a little too eagerly.
A small smile spread across his lips.
"Good. If you're not sure what to do, I can give you small tips as you go along."
You nodded once more, your eyes dropping to his perfect torso. You lowered your face gently, kissing his skin gently, gradually working your way down to his navel.
He breathed softly, and you felt his skin grow grainy under your kisses. Then you finally reached his body hair, your hand resting on the sheets and gently caressing his hip as you placed soft kisses on his happy trail. A sigh of relief escaped from between his lips. The object of all your desires for a week was finally here, close to your touch.
Then, just a few centimetres lower, you came to face his cock. Your eyes locked with Miguel's for a moment as you kissed his groin, then coming to kiss his shaft running your lips along the base of his it.
You heard him inhale as the fingers of your other hand gently wrapped around him, holding him tenderly as you placed a trail of pecks from the base of his dick to his tip. You placed kitten kisses there as you felt him harden and grow between your fingers and against your lips.
This encouraged you, as you no doubt told yourself that you were doing the right thing for his body to react like that.
"Spit will help you, nena," Miguel murmured, surrendering gently to your touch.
You nodded, sticking your tongue out between your teeth to lick his tip, a low grunt echoing in Miguel's chest as you gathered drool on the sides of your cheeks to run down his length and lick him further. Your hand spread the saliva a little more evenly as you kissed your way down to his balls. Then, placing your whole tongue on his base, you worked your way up his entire length.
"This feels so good muñeca," he breathed, one of his hands gently stroking your hair.
You let a little more drool trickle down, your hand spreading it a little more evenly as you pulled the foreskin back to expose the head, kissing the uncovered pink and licking it gently as Miguel sighed and moaned. You made circular movements with your tongue, your eyes resting on Miguel from time to time.
"There's a spot, just under-"
But no sooner had he started his sentence than you opened your mouth wider and let your tongue slide under his tip, just underneath the crown, like you had seen the woman do.
"Yes, there," Miguel breathed shakily, his eyes closing as his head fell back on the pillow, "right there, just like that."
You let your tongue flick back and forth on that spot, beautiful moans rumbling in Miguel's throat. You readjusted his cock in your hand and then gently took his tip into your mouth, letting your tongue slide underneath him.
He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling in a long sigh of pleasure. Your mouth was so warm and wet and your tongue was incredible: perfect for him.
"You feel so good," he whispered, biting his lip, his half-closed eyes coming to rest on yours.
He was thick, and you were trying your best to make sure your mouth was wide open enough to contain him but also to keep the right pressure around him. So, breathing in gently to loosened your jaw, sank a couple of centimetres deeper around him, then pulled up slightly.
You started at a slow pace, taking your time to get used to all this and remember to breathe properly, but also to savour the moment. You relaxed your lips as you lowered yourself onto him, then pressed them once you got up, letting your tongue stretch out as soon as you came up to caress that sweet spot he'd mentioned.
"Be careful with the teeth, muñeca" he said softly as your teeth surreptitiously grazed his skin.
You widened your mouth a little more, breathing in so that your cheeks hollowed out and pressed against him.
"You're doing so good for me," he murmured, his hand still on your hair, caressing it even more.
His praise encouraged you even more, and you thought maybe it would be good to step it up a level. So you sank down on him a little too hastily, and he bumped your throat very lightly as you immediately pulled away, coughing slightly thanks to your gag reflex. How could the lady in the video make it look so simple ? You felt ridiculous.
"Hey, slow down," smiled Miguel as he straightened up a little to reassure you, "all the way down will take a bit more time, but you're already doing so good for me, arlight ?" He caressed your cheek. "No need to rush it."
You nodded softly, although you could have guessed that you wouldn't be able to take all of him in your mouth, especially with the little experience you had, you could still pleasure him.
You weren't just here to make him come, you were here to make him feel good because you wanted him to feel good. 
So you went back to kissing his tip, letting your tongue coat it again before taking it back into your mouth. You knew you couldn't suck the whole thing straight away, so you took his shaft in your hand, pumping softly. You let a little more saliva spill out as you remembered the movement of the woman's hand in the video.
You started twisting your hand clockwise while sucking on him, your tongue occasionally hardening near his sweet spot and the tip. He was making heavenly moans, his fingers weaving through your hair, his hips starting to move on their own.
"You look gorgeous," he moaned tenderly.
A low moan rose from your throat and vibrated against him, his head sinking into the pillow as his back arched, his fingers becoming a little firmer and gripping your hair.
When your jaw began to tire, you wrapped your second hand around his cock, twisting it counter-clockwise, your mouth concentrating more on the head. Your hands applied more pressure as you pulled back, and since your hands were twisting around him, you started softly twisting your head as well.
His hips dictated a rhythm that you followed, a little faster every instant, his hand on your head guiding you in the rhythm.
"You're amazing," he breathed.
You hollowed your cheeks, his rhythm quickening as his moans multiplied. He was going to come, and you would accept it with longing.
His breath became more and more ragged, and after a powerful moan and a single thrust of his hip, you felt it spill over your tongue. He was out of breath, and realising what he'd just done, he pulled out of your embrace confused:
"I'm so sorry!" he said, referencing your tongue covered in his cum, "It was just so good i forgot to pull out, you don't have to-"
But you pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth until the substance dripped down your throat and you swallowed. The taste was slightly salty, but nothing special.
"Swallow," he finished, a smile stretching his lips, surprised.
He straightened, pulling you to him for a gentle kiss.
"You did so great nena, really, I'm so proud of you. You were amazing... you are amazing."
A smile stretched your lips as he caressed your cheek and you came to kiss him again, delighted to have finally been able to taste your desire.
Bonus:
"So, was the material I sent you helpful?" asked Lyla.
"Very," you admitted, "excellent choice."
"What material ?" asked Miguel, confused.
"The new one for an upcoming suit," replied Lyla.
"I'm not sure we're talking about fabric here," remarked Miguel, slightly suspicious as he left the room and you winked at Lyla.
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saturncodedstarlette · 2 months
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Lucifer, drunk : anoTHER!
Secretary!Y/N : Your majesty, please! This is your 16th bottle!
Lucifer : Nooo just one more!
Secretary!Y/N : that’s it, I’m carrying you back
[Thus Secretary!Y/N carried him all the way back to his room]
Secretary!Y/N, puts him down on the bed : Finally.. I can go rest now.
Secretary!Y/N, about to walk away but held back by Lucifer’s hand : Your majesty? Do you need something?
Lucifer, sleepily mumbling :
Secretary!Y/N, leans closer : Yes?
Lucifer : I have *hic* a secret to *hic* tell you..
Secretary!Y/N, now invested : Oh?
Lucifer, whispering : I *hic* l-like Y/N. They have such *hic* beautiful eyes.. hehehe
Secretary!Y/N : . . .
Lucifer, pouts : Don’t t- *hic* tell them okay?!
Secretary!Y/N : . . Of course, my king. I won’t. Goodnight.
Lucifer : Mmhm! Goodnight hehe~
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hoshigray · 11 months
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Pleasurable Practice
Here's what I got: when you're left in headquarters to study for an upcoming language skit, your boss and work crush, Miguel O'Hara, does what he can to help his subordinate. And he does, in more ways than one...
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A/n: It's been a week since I saw the film in theaters, and my brain hasn't been the same. I tried very hard not to write for this man, but here we are. Sighhhh, I swear I wasn't this bad when playing EoT (curse you Oscar Issac, and the ATSV art department!!!). And it doesn't help that my social feeds are full of him...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece! It's WAY longer than I wanted, but I guess that's meant to show how much fun I had writing, hehehe~. Also, ty so so much for 600+ followers!!
Cw: Miguel x fem!reader - some ATSV spoilers so tread carefully - sexual context so minors DNI - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - clitoral play (Miguel's fangs lightly brush your clit, but doesn't bite it) - praise - kisses on the stomach - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love; vida/my life) - sexual acts in public - outside intrusions, but you two don't get caught.
Wc: 2.8k
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"Hey, Lyla. You sure you wanna leave me here?"
"Aww, you scared something would happen without me?" She chuckles when you shrug. "You'll be fine; everything's been taken care of for today. If something pops outta nowhere, you know where to find Miguel or give me a call. Alright, I'm outta here. Cya tomorrow~."
"Bye, Lyla~" With that, the pixelated woman signs off from your line of sight, and you slump into your chair with a sigh.
It's late at night in Nueva York. The Spider Society headquarters is still active, but fewer people occupy the halls and sectors in these late hours, you being one of them. You're sitting at a conference table by the teleportation room, taking in Margo's shift. But since things are quiet around here, you use this time to work on your homework.
Well, you would've if a pair of hands didn't suddenly come from behind and blocked your vision. "Guess who?"
You shake your head with a smile. "Aren't you supposed to be at Earth-50101 hanging with Gwen and Pav?"
The hands are removed, giving your shoulders a quick rub. "Can't say a quick bye before I'm off?" Hobie Brown walks from behind to sit on the table, avoiding the scattered papers on the surface. "What's all this? School?"
"Yeah," You pick up a paper with color-coordinated dialogues. " I got a reflection to finish and need to read this script for a skit in my modern language class on Wednesday."
"What language?"
"Spanish." You flip the script for him to look at. A giggle slips from you. "Suppose you can't help me, huh?"
Hobie grins. "Yo lo haría si pudiera." Your eyes go big. Of course, the guy who "doesn't believe in consistency" would know a thing or two about other languages.
".....Please stay and help me."
"Can't, perhaps next time." Another heavy sigh as the tall other gets up from the table and opens a portal to Pavitr's universe. "We'll save some snacks to bring back tomorrow. See ya then."
"Bye, Hobie." You groan with your head meeting the table surface as the portal vanishes with Hobie's dismissal. In despair, you lift your head up and proceed with your work.
It's about 11 p.m., and you were able to finish your paper in about two hours. It's now time to work on your Spanish script. Unfortunately, your class partner can't be here (obviously) to say his lines with you, but you two promised to highlight your lines and recite on your own downtime. So you follow through with the blue lines — your lines — avoiding the red lines and announcing all the words to the best you can.
After the third time around, you start to get to the rhythm of it. So in tune with what you're doing, you don't mind your surroundings as you circle around the table with your face glued to your script.
"What're you doing?"
However, it all comes to a halt when a voice startles you. So used to the silence and your own tone that you didn't notice a familiar man creep from behind you. Your eyes widen at the tall and well-built figure before you.
Miguel O'Hara, Spider-Man 2099 and the leader of the Spider Society — your boss who you have a major crush on and is still waiting for you to reply after nearly scaring you to death.
"O-Oh, Miguel, umm," you quickly straighten yourself up, but the heat in your face encroaches. "Sorry, didn't see ya there. I was just looking at this script."
"A script?" He slightly tilts his head, surveying your moves as you sit back at the table. He follows and peers behind your shoulder to see what you're working on. "For what?"
"It's for a skit in my Spanish class. I'm reciting my lines for Wednesday." He nods at your answer, glancing around to see you're alone. "Lyla signed off for a while, but she told me to tell you that if you 'need anyone to put a leash on you,' Jessica would answer the call."
The man narrowed his eyes and sucked his teeth, "of course she said that..." was all he murmured under his breath from his pixelated peer's words. With a heavy sigh, he turns back to the paper in your hand and extends out his. His silent request is answered when you pass him the sheet to skim. A brow is lifted. "Is the skit like some kind of married couple or—"
You confirm. "Yes. Our unit is on relationships, and my partner and I wanted to do a skit where the husband — my partner — comes home and surprises his wife with their favorite flower and then gives a nice speech on how much he loves her." Miguel still reads the script, but you continue on. "Luckily, our instructor said it's not our final where it's required to talk entirely in Spanish. So, we can say some English phrases or words if our brains go blank."
Miguel finally stops examining the script and eyes at you. "I can help."
Huh? "Excuse me?"
"You're the blue lines, right?" Correct. "Then I can be the red lines and help you practice."
Wait, no! "Oh no, there's no need for that, Miguel! I'm sure you're busy looking at the screens on your station and—"
"No pasa nada, Y/n," You gulp when he grabs a chair and sits close to you. "I'll say your partner's parts, and you reply with yours." There's no use in arguing with him out of this, so you just follow suit.
For the past thirty minutes, you and Miguel have been practicing. Sometimes he'll call you out on words you forget or mispronounce, which hurts your little heart being scolded like a child. But then there are times when he praises you for saying something correctly without second-guessing, or he'll ask for a pen to scratch off something and write a better phrase for you to say. And you can tell that your memorization's been improving thanks to his help. Maybe there was no need to be nervous.
The time is now 11:46, and you feel way more confident about this skit than before. Miguel can also tell by how much you've performed that you'll do fine on Wednesday. Guess that should do it. He puts the script down and gets up, heading back to his original post.
"Hey, wanna do the actual skit with me?"
Huh? "What?"
"Well, I was thinking," You squeak. "Maybe we can try acting out the skit without the paper now that I'm kinda getting the hang of it? But, I mean, that's only if you're okay with it, ya know..."
His brows trench down. Miguel knows he shouldn't do it; there are many universes in his post that he needs to keep an eye on in case anything pops off. He can't afford to just act out a scenario for some class. However, when he glances back at you, he faces mixed feelings. Your eyes look at his, nibbling on your bottom lip, and your fingers fidget with each other as you wait for his answer.
Miguel knows he shouldn't...but it won't hurt to comply this one time.
"Fine," your heart skips when he turns back to face you fully. "But don't mention it to Lyla or Jess. I'll never hear the end of it from those two."
"Of course!" You reassure him as you ready yourself, mentally calming the happiness brewing inside down. "You go."
He nods and plays the scene. He acts like he opens a door and holds an imaginary object. "Estoy en casa, cariño."
"Oh, bienvenido a casa, bebé!" You rush to Miguel and give him a hug. You feel him go rigid, and you freeze. Wait, he's still my boss and not my actual partner! Oh, God, I bet he regrets doing this now...Ughhh!! Commit now, cry later!
You quickly improvise and pull him by his spider suit to come close, placing pretend kisses on his cheeks. "Llegas pronto a casa, mi guapo muñeco. Is something wrong?"
Miguel stares at you for a few seconds before he blinks and coughs. "Ahem, Querida, vine temprano porque es tu cumpleaños. Y quería darte esto." The hand with the invisible object comes up, and you take it.
"Dios mío, ¿mi flor favorita en mi día especial?" You give the man a warm smile and place a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin lovingly. Miguel hitches his breath. "Eres demasiado buena conmigo, muñeco. Pero no tenías que regalarme nada."
It takes Miguel a moment, but he coughs once more and returns to the task. "Puede que la flor no fuera necesaria, pero tenía que conseguirla para ti, mi amor." He puts a hand on yours that's still on his cheek, now it's your turn to slow your breathing. "Cada vez que veo esta flor, sólo puedo pensar en ti. No sólo hoy, sino todos los días. Veo todo lo que haces por mí y nunca lo doy por sentado. You are my everything, Y/n. Tú eres mi mundo. Mi luz. Mi corazón. Mi… Mi…"
He stops, noticing your expression and shallow breaths. Your eyes never leave his, mouth agape, and your attention entirely on his words— no, on him. Even in this little act, you dare not move or say something out of turn. Listening to the man before you intently, your hand still in his.
He knows he shouldn't, but Miguel leans into you, and a small gasp leaves you before his lips press onto your soft ones. "....Mi alma."
Your brain short-circuits, the feel of his lips overtaking you. You awkwardly kiss him back, resulting in a moan from Miguel. He grabs your waist while pushing himself forward, making you walk backwards until you hit the table. The bump has you two break the kiss, forcing you back to reality.
Miguel says nothing, and so do you, your eyes honing in on his deep red orbs. Your thoughts go too fast that your head pounds. What? What was that? Did he mean to do that??
"Túmbate."
He captures your attention. "What?"
"Lie down, mi amor." He commands in a stern voice. Hesitance restrains you, yet you still follow orders and sit on the table with your back to the surface. A small smile creeps up on Miguel, and he leans down to plant more kisses on your sweet lips. "Good. Now, say your part."
Slow smooches from your chin to your neck leave you breathless. Although the heat in your face is unbearable, you play along and stick to the script. "My wonderful husband...Y...You are so thought—"
"Se supone que está en español, Y/n." He corrects you. Lifting your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Miguel kisses your exposed tummy while his hand snakes past your bottoms, pressing a finger down on the wet spot of your clothed vulva. Your toes curl as your first moan leaves puffy lips. "Try again."
You intake a deep breath. "Ere...Eres muy considerado con—Mmmm....conmigo." Your bottoms and undergarments are now off, your bare cunt out for Miguel to see. The older man props your legs upward with both hands as he brings his face close to your pussy. He lightly blows on it, and you bite your lip from the cold air. "Keep going, mi vida."
"Cuando....no haya luz en mi—Oooh!!" Miguel flicks your clitoris with his tongue before nestling it between your soaked folds, sucking and laving your essence. "Nnnmp! Mi-Miguel, I can't do thisss...Your tongue, it feels so, so—Oh Christ..."
His ruby eyes peek at your face. "But you were doing just fine, Y/n." The way he says your name feels so sinful, so forbidden. But so pleasing to the ears. "Repeat it."
His tongue goes back to torment your slit. The risque noises the wet muscle makes with your slick-covered chasm ring your eardrums. Ecstatic whimpers fill the space around you, and you grab tufts of Miguel's brown hair when his tongue flicks your clit again. He's impatient, so you concede.
"Cuando no haya luz en mi vida....Haaaahhh, sé que estarás ahí para protegerme." Miguel pushes your tender bud against his teeth. His canine brushing on your pearl, causing you to jerk. "Eres mi sombra...Mi—Ahhhh!....escudo....Mi rey."
He chortles, "Good job, mi alma."
Satisfied with your cooperation, the man sucks on your precious sex as his forefinger nestles between your folds, your slick providing lubricant to naturally push his digit through your entrance. You jolt with a sharp cry, tears falling from your beautiful face.
His tongue and fingers go faster, and your release climbs higher with every lick. The stimulation of your poor cunt and clitoris is hardcore that you come in a few seconds, the walls of your chasm fluttering around Miguel's fingers coated with your personal fluids.
Your heavy pants slow down to steady your body that subsides from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Miguel withdraws his mouth and fingers from you, standing upright to take in your figure.
He scoffs with a tiny grin, licking his lips. "Amorcito."
You open your mouth to say something, but a flash of colors and shapes captures the attention of both of you. Your eyes go wide. Oh no, someone's coming!
With haste, you immediately grab for your bottoms and underwear before taking cover under the conference table, using it to quickly put your clothes back on before someone enters through the portal. That someone was Jessica Drew, making her arrival known by revving her motorbike.
"Jess," Miguel puts on his usually serious face. But on the inside, he's almost as nervous as you. Because he swiftly pulls a chair out to cover his erection lower regions.
"Hey, Miguel! I thought I'd find you here." The woman addresses him when she's done a lap around the table. Her portal vanishes from the scene. "I've been trying to call you through your watch. You not wearing it?"
He looks down at his wrist where it was supposed to be. "...I was using the restroom, so I left it on my station."
"Mmm, I figured." Jessica then notices the paper and backpack on the table. "This is Y/n's stuff, right? Where are they?"
"R-Right here, Jess!" To her surprise, you come out from the table with your bottoms fully secured. "Sorry, I was looking for my pen before packing up." You smile to ease the awkward tension and your racing heart.
"Oh, okay then." Jessica nods to your words and turns to Miguel. "Anyway, I was calling you up because I need backup. The guy I was dealing with somehow switched places with another villain. Took care of the other one, but my guy's elsewhere."
He hums. "Lyla."
"That's me." The yellow-pixelated woman with pink heart-shaped glasses appears once more.
"Where are the coordinates of the anomaly Jess was handling?"
"I'm sorry, you want me to do what?"
"...."
"What's the magic word?" The tiny woman teases him while you and Jessica hold in your laughs.
Miguel's brows furrow with a slight pout. "....Canyoupleasesend—"
"Woah, woah, woah," Lyla gets closer to his face with each word, raising his irritation as she does so. "Little too fast there."
"Can you please give us the co—"
"Already gave it to Jess."
"Then what was the point—"
"You know how much I love to pester ya," her smile doesn't help squander his frustration, not when he also hears the exchanged giggles between you and Jessica. "And call that payback for not having your watch on you."
To avoid their eyes seeing Miguel's situation, he leaves and fetches his watch quickly after being repeatedly teased by the two women. He returns ready with his mask on and the device on his wrist. Lyla and Jess are waiting for him, same with you and all your stuff packed up. It's 12 in the morning now, you have to get home. "Ready?"
"Yup, see ya there." The woman on her bike starts it up. Lyla disappears when the dimension is opened. "Bye, Y/n!"
"Bye, Jess!" You wave goodbye to the woman, who does one final lap before entering the portal to her new destination. And now you're back to being alone with Miguel, who you find looking at you. You gulp and say your thoughts. "Don't worry, I didn't tell them! And, sorry that it happened. I was being a little too close to you in the first—"
"Hey." Miguel lifts a hand to stop you from rambling on further, and you listen. "Your skit. When is it again?"
It takes you aback that he asks, but you still reply. "Wednesday?"
"Hm. Alright then." And with that, he walks to the portal to his next mission. But before he exits, he peers from his shoulder and proclaims something.
"Tell me how you did on Wednesday, then we'll continue with this talk."
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sysig · 11 months
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Alternate ways to say “I love you” (Patreon)
#Doodles#Original#Yanderapy#Still in the ''Getting To Know You'' phase but with all the other steps missed lol#Especially Ishida calling him Micchan - he skipped right on past Maeda-san or Mitsuru-san or even Mitsu-kun and went straight to -chan#He probably asked permission first but like - Mitsuru would've said yes to basically any endearment lol#Boundaries what boundaries#He does intentionally call Ishida ''Ishida-san'' tho - he's too nervous to ask (there's that fear of rejection again)#But he also just likes calling him like that! He likes that Ishida is a year older than him but he can leave off the -sempai#But he also likes being respectful and leaving a little bit of distance#All the nicer when he finally bucks up the courage to get a little closer hehehe ♪#Ishida would probably let him call him by his first name without honourifics if he asked but Icchan might be a Little♪ too far right now lol#Maybe someday tho >:3c#Anyway lol to the topic at hand! They're discussing Love Languages obviously - Mitsuru brought it up and Ishida didn't know any specifics#Yet more of his yandere side lol - it makes him feel powerful! And cared for of course haha#Mitsuru seems into it :3#Also Mitsu is by no means touch-starved - his family isn't exactly touchy-feely but they're not afraid of closeness either#He gets hugs and general friendly touches - and clearly he's had his hair messed with lol - he's just a tactile person!#Doesn't make it not embarrassing to say so openly to his boyfriend tho haha - that Expectation y'know#Ishida takes it in stride ♪ If it will make Mitsu happy to touch him then what does it hurt to do so#The PDAs! Goodness you two (lol)#Mitsuru does appreciate that he took right to it :) No hesitation to make him feel loved! Shows he cares <3
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crypticminx · 3 months
Note
i saw u were taking reqs for jacob elordi x reader so what about like cute, giggly morning sex if that makes sense
i’m so down bad for this man 🙏
Yessss ofcccc! Also making this husband and dad Jacob bc I need him so bad too :((( tysm lovey ~ also I didn’t do sex just him eating u out (sex w Jacob soon heheh)
⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊。
You woke up to the feeling of budding hands caress your cheek, the softness of his hands were enough to make you doze back into your interrupted sleep. Gentle motions sent waves of comfort down your spine.
Up and down, they graciously glided until you resorted to opening your tired eyes. the sight laid before you left you irresistibly smiling while squinting as the sunlight poured its beam to light up your bedroom. Creating an abundance of bright hues.
Your husband, Jacob, pierced his eyes at you with an enchanting grin that washed over his face; highlighting the esscense of his beauty that reminded you of one of the many reasons he charmed his way into your heart.
Jacob’s hand slowly retracted away from you as you shifted your limp body into a somewhat sitting position, letting your arched back rest on the bed headboard behind you.
“Good morning,” he whispered with radiant eyes.
You let out an amused sigh, your hands rubbing the remainder of sleep that was left inside. “Mmm, what time is it?”
He glanced at the tiny clock on the night side table, “half past seven.”
You groaned in realization that you could get away with thirty more minutes of rest before enduring your daily routine. Shuffling back down to let your head rest on your silk pillow, you admitted, “it’s too early, love.”
He paused and blinked slowly for a slight minute, moving closer to allow his hand to comb through your undone hair.
“Just missed you…” he almost sounded sorry as his tone was full of remorse for not being able to spend intimate moments like this with you all the time.
You knew what he was referring to.
Jacob’s schedule with acting had been extremely busy the past few months. Leaving him to fly out for specific casting calls or meeting with certain producers who admired his talented work. You were proud of him and wanted nothing more for him to continue succeeding in the field of film, but every time he had a last minute flight to catch, your heart ached with a familiar homesick feeling.
One that wouldn’t exit your soul until you got to reunite with your husband. Having the privilege of feeling his warmth and love in physical form was enchanting.
However, you were never alone.
Your little daughter, Lilly, kept you occupied and was the best form of sweet company. The spitting image of her father with her large curious brown eyes and silky chestnut locks, she was always there to remind you of him.
The two of you would lounge around your secluded house, watching movies, making crafts to gift for daddy when he would return home and FaceTiming him whenever he had the rare moment of free time.
And of course, there was Jacob’s beloved angel of a dog, Layla, who was an adorable companion that would cuddle beside you anytime you’d relax on the sofa and played long rounds of fetch with Lily in your large backyard. It was obvious she missed her loving owner just as much as you did.
“We missed you too,” he smiled at your courteous words, leaning to kiss your soft lips, letting his tongue swirl with yours. Loving the taste of your sweet mouth no matter what time of the day.
With no hesitation, his touch starved hands glided down to your tank top, gently tugging the straps down to reveal your chest.
“Jacob!” You exclaimed, followed by a quiet laugh, completely aware your daughter was most likely still sleeping in the room beside yours.
His hands cupped perfectly around your boobs, your nipples growing hard at the smooth contact that was the palms of his hands.
“Come on, baby,” his thick brows raised with his slick charm, “you think all those pictures you sent me while I was away is better than having the real thing right in front of me?
You blushed with hot, red cheeks as he brought up all the little things you’d do for him while the distance between the two of you left him aching for you.
Desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Oh hush you,” you playfully rolled your eyes, feeling him squeeze a tad bit tighter at your breasts.
“Mmm,” he hummed moving down to latch his mouth on one of your exposed boobs. Your nails clutching deep into his hair as his head laid on your chest. You dug deeper as his tongue circled in brisk motions. Leaving Jacob to pause for a swift moment.
“Ow,” he exaggerated in a comical tone. You ruffled his shaggy hair down to his forehead as he licked his lips. “I wasn’t done.”
“My bad,” you winked, letting a tiny yawn escape you.
“Well,” he purred, moving his body down to your stomach as he moved the sheets to go gently over his head. “I’ll just continue down here.”
“Babe,” you pleaded with pouty eyes. “I don’t wanna make too much noise.”
Jacob was just too irresistible.
He perpetually longed for your body laid in front of him. He constantly missed you at all times you were forcefully apart. Having the long awaited freedom of getting to spend a relaxing morning with you was more than a luxury to him.
“Don’t worry,” he assured you, stroking your thigh with his nimble fingertips, “our little love sleeps like an angel. She won’t hear us.”
You pretended to stall, placing a finger on your soft lips for effect. You knew the answer though and you didn’t have to think twice. You needed this—you craved this.
Giving him the look was the green light for the hungry man. He inched himself further down until he was hidden beneath the sheets and placed perfectly in between your bent thighs. The amount of small stubble he had neglected to shave gently tickled you and having no urge to fight off the feeling it provided, you couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“When’s the last time you shaved?” You snickered with amusement, hearing him groan as you lifted the sheets only to not receive a response from him, but his face diving deep into your exposed parts.
He was smooth with his actions, he got straight to business and you could barely remember him taking off your panties.
A build up of heat and tingly vibrations inside of you began to stir your sex drive into motion. Having Jacob’s tongue wither it’s way into your partially wet lips was a luxurious feeling, he knew how to let your tension go by the ways of his mouth.
Your clit was caressed and it felt loving. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t sloppy. It was perfect because he did it with love.
“Taste so good, baby,” you heard a vacant mumble in between his swirls, he always made sure to praise you. After all, you were his main source of inspiration and the very thing that kept him striving for more.
You were his wife; the woman he vowed to spend the rest of his happy life with. You were the woman who gave him the best gift of all; his daughter. With everything he ever did to your body that pleasured you to no end, he always wanted to reassure you that you were more than a heavenly angel to him.
“Keep going, honey,” you tried your best to surpass a moan from exiting you, but failed miserably. Jacob’s mouth playfully tugged around the surface of your wet inner parts, something he knew you adored and always left you with insane build up.
Warm waves flowed down to your inner core, passion from Jacob’s mouth worked its magic into always providing you with a quick release.
You breathed heavily as his tongue surfaced deep into you, feeling so stimulated it reminded you of the old days when the two of you had a free house and could be as obnoxious as you pleased.
He made you feel warm. The pressure of his suctioning lips gave you sanctuary bliss.
You craved nothing more than the simple action of cuming on his face. Watching him suck all of your juices as you’d pour out your ecstasy was more rewarding than anything else in the heat of the moment.
As you could feel yourself letting go into a haze of vibrations there was a small, frail knock at the door.
“Shit,” you heard rumble from under the sheets as you slid up with the most energy you could gather while Jacob eagerly covered you back up with your undergarments.
You slid your tank top back to cover your chest, seeing Jacob mentally cursing at the interrupted moment, but smiling because he knew who was at the door waiting to be allowed entry.
Regaining composure and trying to wipe any of the remaining stamina left in the two of you, Jacob called out, “come in.”
Your daughter slowly opened the door, looking energetic as ever as she appeared to be ready to start the day. Her movement turned quick as her face lit up like a Christmas tree upon seeing her Father. She was thrilled that he was home and raced to his opened arms as she jumped on the bed.
“Daddy, I’m so glad you’re back,” she cried out with glee as Jacob smothered her with his large arms. She still seemed so tiny in comparison to him.
“Of course, angel,” he planted a kiss on her head, smooching loudly as she nuzzled deep into his bearing chest.
She looked up at him with doe eyes, revealing how much she missed her dad, “Layla and I missed you so so much.” It made him chuckle at how much she grew to adore that dog. She was nurturing just like her beautiful mother.
Your heart melted at the scene and Jacob grinned at you with a beaming smile before he turned to Lilly again. “Oh sweetheart, I can promise you daddy missed you more.”
“And what about me?” You poked the young girl, who in response, leaped onto your lap as you kissed her cheek.
“Good morning, my love,” you showered her with affection as she flung her arms around your neck. Slowly cradling her in a soothing rhythm before she left your embrace to sit in front of you and Jacob.
“Sweetie,” Jacob gestured her attention back to him as he began to slowly dress himself, throwing on a loose throwover you placed on the laundry basket next to his side of the bed. “Why don’t you go downstairs and feed Layla and then mummy and I will be right with you, okay?”
She nodded, the loose braids she slept in swayed with her motion. “Yes daddy,” she crawled off the bed as she happily ran out of your room and into the long corridors outside.
Jacob chuckled and shook his head, finding himself so relieved to be back home with his girls. He faced you as you slowly stretched your way out of bed and shuffled yourself to where he was slowly fixing himself up. You wrapped your arms around his waist as your head laid on his back. He shifted your arms around to where you could view his ecstatic face.
“Don’t worry,” he looked down at your twinkling eyes that never stopped sparkling, “I’m not finished with you yet, angel.”
You bit your lip, “I’m looking forward to it.”
What a beautiful morning it was turning out to be at the Elordi household.
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ronwestbreeze · 11 months
Text
too slow
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pairing: miguel o'hara x spider!fem!reader
warnings: angst heheh. spoilers! small scenes of somewhat explicit nsfw. mentions of death!
summary: the both of you would come back from this. you would...right?
word count: 4.9k
author's note: did i come out of hiatus just to post a angsty miguel fic? yes. you know i had to as y'alls fav angst queen
part 2
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No matter how far you left that spider life behind, he somehow managed to pull you back in.
And god you tried so desperately to stay away. To refuse him.
Miguel O’Hara just had a way with you. He always did. 
Sometimes you wished you were stronger.
The moment you stepped into your apartment was when all of your senses struck your spine and made you freeze in your doorway.
No one else would have known to continue forward cautiously by leaping up to your ceiling and crawling the rest of the way into the apartment, high on alert. Then again, no one else was you. At least not in this universe.
Your spider senses got worse as you crawled toward your ajar bedroom door. When you were close enough, you dropped down as quietly as you could to the floor. One hand preparing a web to shoot and the other raising toward the door to push it further open.
Only you freeze all together.
A sharp tingle struck your back.
Behind you.
Of course, you were quick. Without turning toward the intruder entirely, you shot a web to grab a large vase sitting on a nearby table in the short hallway and swung it behind you. They dodged the vase just as fast and you instantly shot both of your webs toward the intruder. Only for them to be caught by them with both their hands.
“I’m disappointed, Domino.”
It was a mistake to let your guard down by only a little. It was a mistake to instantly recognize his voice.
“Miguel—AAARGH!”
A sudden yank from the webs caused you to fly forward until an iron grip wrapped around both your wrists. Until you were facing the scarlet and blue mask of the one Spider-Man you never expected to see again.
“Too slow.” Even with the mask, you could hear his smirk.
Now that you were aware of who you were dealing with, the tension in your muscles lessened. Just a little.
Some part of you wanted to say “You shouldn’t be here” but since you weren’t in the mood for a long and exhausting spout with the man, you took the more easy and straightforward route of the conversation.
“Why are you here, Miguel?”
His hold on your wrists loosened but he didn’t let go right away. Which was to your dismay as you really didn’t want to be this close to him. Not when you knew that both seeing him now and now having very little space between the both of you would compromise your senses, your steeled will.
And yet you didn’t pull away.
You watched quietly as his mask disappeared, trying your very best not to get too drawn into his features like you used to. Resisting the urge to run your fingers through his dark locks, tugging on some of them like the old days.
Stop.
That was a long time ago.
And it should remain that way.
Unfortunately, Miguel didn’t appear as strong or restrained. The way he hungrily looked at you wasn’t missed but it certainly wasn’t voiced. By either of them. That was something they wouldn’t touch right now. Probably not ever.
When his forehead gently brushed against yours, when his scent overwhelmed your nostrils was when you forced yourself back on solid ground.
“Miguel.”
Eventually, he also had to pull himself together. Eventually, he dropped his hold on your wrists and walked around you, putting a good distance between the two of you. Warily and curiously, you watched his movements.
He gestured toward the shattered pieces of what once was the vase, “I bought you that, you know. That was rude.”
“So is breaking into someone’s apartment.” You retorted dryly. 
Miguel suddenly took out a small object that shone in the gentle light of the sunset, “I still have a key.”
You huffed, “Imma need that back.” You tried reaching for it, only for Miguel to quickly yank it out of your reach, the beginnings of a smirk forming on his face. That’s when you grew annoyed. 
“I thought you were never gonna come back to this universe again. Remember? You went on a whole tangent about it.”
“Mmm.” Was his response at first. You silently watched him tuck the extra key away into some invisible pocket in his suit. “That was only after you said you were never coming back to the team” You tensed at this as the memories came trickling back. “Or coming back to me—”
“So what’s changed?”
Miguel frowned, “I need you—”
“No.”
You reframed from smirking at the twitch in his jaw, at the way his trained mask momentarily slipped at your obvious stubbornness. You gestured in the direction of the front door, “If that’s all, the door’s over there—”
“It’s Electro.” That, of course—he knew it would—made you stop. It was your turn for your mask to fall, just enough for Miguel to notice as well. The intenseness in his features softened, “It’s your brother…he somehow made it into another universe—”
“When do we leave?” Miguel had the audacity to look surprised. You glared, “I’m not doing this for you, O’Hara. It’s like you said, he’s my brother. After that, I’m done for good, you hear me?”
With that, he schooled his face back to a controlled mask. One that meant business.
“Whatever you say, Domino.”
You wince and send him another glare before stalking toward your bedroom to change.
Ever since he started calling you that name, Domino, you’ve hated it. It originated from a mission gone bad—mostly for you—and he hadn’t stopped calling you Domino since. It was mostly because you had been knocked down into a bunch of trash cans that happened to be in a long line. 
Hobie said you tumbled like a stack of dominos. Miguel never let that moment go.
Fuck him.
Yet despite your hatred for it, you never discouraged it. You just liked the way he said it. You liked the way his voice softened whenever—
No. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck. Him.
After this you wouldn’t ever have to see him again. You wouldn’t ever have to be wrapped up in his shadows, in his overwhelming way of showing…
Fuck him.
It was odd being back in your old suit. Frankly, it felt dated as you swung around in it. There was an itching part of you that wanted to update it, get new designs, and test them out of your suit. Self-restraint was a challenge during that mission. Especially around Miguel.
Thankfully, Jessica and Hobie showed up so it wasn’t just you and Miguel facing Electro—or in other words your estranged brother. It was already enough having to face family drama, but then you add a frustratingly unlabeled drama that kept interfering with your focus.
“Stay on your side, O’Hara!” You snapped when you dodged an electric zap sent your way.
“Don’t be a child!” Miguel shot back.
“I’m not! We agreed Hobie and I’d take left and you and Drew would take right! You are not holding your end of the agreement!” You landed on a nearby pylon. “Which is no surprise!”
Another blast came from Electro, this time aimed at Miguel and Hobie. Hobie was able to swing out of the way and land on the same tower with you while Miguel landed on the other side, “What the hell is that supposed to mean!?”
“She means you’re an asshole, bud.” Hobie added.
“Nobody asked you!”
“Hey!” Jessica shouted from below, steering her motorcycle toward Electro, “Less fighting like children and more getting this guy before he causes the entire city to go dark!”
The fight hadn’t gone on for long. Eventually, you were able to confront your brother up close despite Miguel’s protests against it. Yet you were the one that knew your brother the best, who was he or anyone else to tell you what to do when it came to him? Certainly not, Miguel. Leader of a secret society or not, this was your turf. He asked you here and you would complete the job the way you knew how.
There was a point where you managed to get Electro at a somewhat calm and the thrilled part of you was ready to prove Miguel right. But unfortunately, family bonds wouldn’t save you in this situation. It wouldn’t tie anything up in the neat bow you were expecting.
The blast nearly threw you entirely off the building if not for a bunch of webs catching you in mid air and bringing you back up. Miguel and Hobie managed to subdue Electro thanks to your unintentional distraction while Jessica was the one to pull you back to your feet.
“Damn, babes, that was a close one.” She gave an amused smirk. “Just how long have you been out of the game?”
“Shut up, Drew.” You grumbled despite the other woman’s grin.
Coming back to HQ was the very last thing you wanted to do. But you wanted to make sure your brother was properly dealt with. Even if that meant dealing with Miguel’s bullshit along the way.
As you entered the computer room, Miguel’s mask came off, “What the hell was that back there?”
“Domino doing Domino things.” You mutter dryly.
“Yeah you are.” Hobie held up his hand for a high five, which you reluctantly gave.
Miguel sent him a scathing scowl before turning back to you, “You think this is funny? You could’ve gotten yourself killed back there!”
“I had it handled.” You gritted out, removing your own mask. “He didn’t need everyone coming at him all at once. If you had given me a few more minutes with him—“
“But we didn’t have a few minutes, did we?” Miguel snapped quickly.
“No, of course not.” You crossed your arms, ignoring how he stood taller than you. Ignoring how he would’ve appeared menacing if not for your pissed off mood. “Because everything has to go O’Hara’s way, right? Fuck everybody else.”
Hobie smirked from the side of the room, his mask also removed, “I missed her. ‘ow come she’s not around often, Bossman?” 
Miguel’s jaw twitched dangerously because they all knew Hobie never referred to him as “Bossman” unless to piss him off. because he knew that Hobie didn’t respect him as much, and didn't care for him as a leader. Bossman was just Hobie being a little shit, in Miguel’s words at least.
“It was fucking reckless.” Miguel seethed. “And as usual, you’re too immature to even realize what you did. What could’ve happened—“
“You brought me here!” You snapped back, as venomous as his fangs. “If you don’t like my way then you should’ve left me the fuck alone!”
“Guys, come on.” Jessica sighed, already used to the both of you like this.
Miguel was fuming and trying so desperately to hide the fact that you easily worked him up this way. And him failing at hiding it only made him pissed off even more. 
He hissed, turning his back to you.“I was being considerate. For your sake. It was your brother after all…It was a mistake bringing you in. I should’ve known fucking better.” 
A bitter laugh left your lips, “Finally! We can agree on something!” You stalked out of the room with Hobie trailing behind you—you were used to him following you around—as you muttered, “Let me know when you’ll be sending Max back.”
Just as you left the room, there was a loud crash and Jessica snapping at Miguel.
When your brother was finally sent back to your universe so that he could be sent to a cell powerful enough to hold him, you left HQ and didn’t look back when you did. Swearing to yourself that it would be the last time you would ever allow yourself to step back into that place. To allow yourself to set your eyes upon him again.
Unfortunately, that promise didn’t last too long.
Despite yourself, you started messing with your suit designs. Adding new stuff to make it look less dated than before. But that didn’t mean you were back to that spider life. No. Not one bit.
Hobie swung by your dimension and suggested that both of you went crime fighting for the day. And you only agreed just so your fighting techniques weren’t so rusty anymore. But you weren’t back in the game. Not one bit.
Then Jessica came to visit, claiming that she wanted you to see the progress in her pregnancy and catch up as friends. Which then led you to following her into another dimension to fight another Rhino, which was a great success.
Fuck, you missed this.
And you were tempted. You really were tempted to swing through your city as their Spider person again.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt after all. Didn’t mean you had to face Miguel. Yes. That was fine.
In the next month forward, you had started your crime fighting as the spider person of your dimension. A new suit and refreshed skills, you felt unstoppable. You even brought out your dimension traveling bracelet. Just to go and visit Hobie and Jessica whenever. Just that.
Soon, Jessica took on a new protege. Spider-Gwen. She was a nice kid and started coming over to your dimension with Hobie whenever they had the time. You liked her alot. She was like a little sister whenever she came around. Same as Hobie being like a younger brother to you.
At one point you found yourself back at HQ—you were honestly terrible at keeping your steeled will—but only to return a few bad guys to their respectful dimensions. You had fully planned on avoiding Miguel—at this point you hadn’t seen each other since your spat a month ago—and going back to your dimension.
That was the plan at least.
“How come you never go with us to see Miguel?” Gwen asked while the two of you watched one of the villains being sent back to their dimension. “You two don’t get along or…?”
Spider-Byte snorted and you sent the hologram a glare, “They have a special history, newbie. You’ll see someday.”
“Quiet, kid.” You mumbled, crossing your arms before addressing Gwen, “Yeah…we don’t get along. It’s best for the both of us that we aren’t in the same room together, right now.”
“Is it?”
You tried your very best not to allow your face to fall into shock at his voice coming from behind you and Gwen. Really, you should’ve expected that to happen.
Miguel approached the two of you, glancing briefly toward Gwen but his eyes remained glued to yours. “Drew’s asking for you. Says she needs your help on Level 4.”
It took you a few seconds to realize he had been talking to Gwen as the blonde nodded her head and disappeared out of the room. Spider-Byte threw on some headphones and continued with her work. In other words, it was just the two of you. The very opposite of what you had planned and wanted.
“I hear you’ve been coming around here a lot more often.” Miguel mused as he brushed past you, his arm grazing yours as he did. You watched him, a lot less hostile than you thought you would be. Instead, you only stared at his back muscles. “I didn’t know you’ve become quite the contradicting person.”
You shrugged, hugging your arms closer to you, “I’ve just been helping Jess and Hobie out. S’not a big deal.”
A sound came from his throat, similar to a chuckle, “I also hear that the White Spider is back on the news.”
“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?” You instead said, one of your brows raising slightly. “When did you start that up again?”
Miguel glanced over his shoulder, his face unreadable, “Who says I ever stopped?”
You smirk, trying to hide how tight your chest felt at his words. At how soft his voice had gotten.
“Look who’s become contradicting now.”
Miguel was quiet at that.
You tried to continue your original goal after that frustratingly vague interaction. You weren’t really sure where you had stood with him after that. Sure, you still were hesitant to rejoin the society fully—mostly because of him—but now you were going on missions with some of the members and helping Jessica train her protégé. At this point, you were practically back, just without the official stuff.
And now you were on a mission with Miguel. You hadn’t been on one of these since your fight. Piece by piece you were just breaking your own promises, your stubbornness was weakening. Your spine had shaken.
Damn him.
No matter what you could never resist Miguel.
You could tell it was the same for him.
“You should go home.”
“Do you know how many times you’ve said that and I’ve still ended up staying?” You leaned on the doorway entrance to his quarters with a smug look on your face. “I think you should give it up by now.”
Miguel was topless. After a particularly long mission, a lot of the team had come out with some cuts and bruises, Miguel wasn’t exempt from that.
You watched as he was cleaning his wound on his left shoulder, only that put too much strain on his bruised side every time he reached his right hand over to tend to that shoulder. For a few more minutes you watched him keep going at it before you sighed and eventually stepped in.
“Stop.” You smacked his hand to the side gently and took the bloodied cloth from his hand.
Miguel tensed, “Domino—”
“I’ve got it.” You told him sternly. “We don’t need you reopening your stitches. Just relax. I’ve got you.”
Your words had disarmed him and caused him to loosen the tension in his muscles at your gentle touch. The wound wasn’t too bad, at least not as bad as the one under his right arm. Once the blood was wiped away, there was just a bit of purple coloring. The blood must’ve been from someone else.
His breaths fanned against your own shoulder. You didn’t forget how close the two of you were in that moment. It was more like you were trying to distract yourself from the fact.
Instead, a small smile tugged at your lip, “It’s been a minute since you’ve been injured.” You noted the light scars on the other parts of his arm.
“Not really.” Miguel grunted, ducking his head down as he rested his elbows on his knees. “I got hit a couple months back. Only difference was that you weren’t there to lick my wounds clean.”
“Do you always need me to?” You joked halfheartedly.
A small tug upward in his lip made your heart skip, “I would prefer it better than being alone.”
“I thought you liked being a loner.”
“Not these days.”
You knew you were treading dangerous territory but the question left your lips before you could rethink it through.
“Did you really want me to go?”
Underneath your fingers, you felt him inhale, slowly.
“Honest?”
You scoffed, “I wouldn’t be asking if I wanted to hear a lie.”
Over his shoulder, he stared at you. A part of you wanted to shift under his intense gaze, a part of you wanted to look away sheepishly but you bravely held it. Though the change in your grip was probably a dead giveaway at your nervousness.
“If it were up to me, you wouldn’t have ever left my sight.”
You tried not to feel too overwhelmed by his words, knowing it was your own fault for asking. For even bringing it up in the first place.
So instead you snorted, “Wow. Sounds awfully possessive—”
His other hand grasped the back of your neck and brought you toward him, your lips connecting. His desperation for you was clear. And your resolve had slowly fallen—no that was such a lie. It had quickly crumbled the moment you felt his touch, the moment his lips were on yours, the moment you felt his desperation sink into your skin just as easily as his fangs would.
When his larger body moved on top of you, you knew your resolve had fully broken. Completely gone. When his lips found your neck, you were gone. When his hips rutted against yours, your mind was gone. When you finally felt him sink into your being, when you felt him inside you—god you never realized how much you had wanted this until now.
No. You knew.
Miguel held your hands down to the bed sheets, only you managed to slip them from his grip and find them tugging and running through his hair, legs wrapped around his hips to pull him closer.
You felt him smirk against your neck, “My stubborn girl.”
And just like that you were back into a cycle in which you swore not to fall into again. Only, this time the two of you didn’t make it known to the others. It was a silent choice between the two of you to keep whatever this was to yourselves. It was better that way you realized.
But as time went by, you knew it would be a little more difficult to hide it. Miguel was touchy. It was fine on days where it was just the both of you, when the both of you were working on something together. Yet on the days where you are around others, such as missions, you know he can’t help himself. And neither can you.
The both of you were terrible at hiding it in the end.
Hobie was surprisingly observant.
“You’re lookin’ cozy now.”
You glanced up to find Hobie lounging about as you were looking at videos of different dimensions. “Let it go, B—”
“I ain’t sayin’ shit.” He shrugged. “Just noticed a few things is all.”
And the two of you left it at that. Never really spoke on it again. Hobie now knew. And Jessica had eyes and a brain, she probably already put two and two together. Especially with you coming to HQ a lot more often now. Even the newbie, Gwen, took double takes every now and then whenever she saw you and Miguel together.
“You seem particularly stressed tonight.” You hummed to him on another night—this time in your apartment, squirming as his cock twitched inside of you.
Miguel looked down at you, a brow raised in challenge, “Can’t take it tonight, baby? Usually you like it a little rough, hmm?” He buried his face into your neck, his thrusts slower than before. Gentle nips at your neck that would sure to leave bruises the next day. Just the way he liked it. The possessive shithead.
“And yet, you’re still stressed.” You whisper next to his ear, breathing out a sigh of pleasure.
Miguel grunted in reply and remained at your neck. Until he slowly pulled away to rest his forehead on yours. He sighed against your skin, “Just another anomaly. Nothing we can’t fix.”
You smiled with a soft hum, “You always do anyway.”
His lips were pressed into yours, a hint of a smile shaping his mouth, “Not just me.”
The anomaly problem never went away it seemed. Soon Miguel got buried deep into his work. You were fine with it, already used to his committed work habits. Besides, you had your own world to manage. You weren’t just waiting all night for him to come home like some girlfriend slowly practicing patience. No, instead you had your own thoughts to keep you busy. But you still managed to find time and visit HQ. To visit the others. To visit Miguel.
It wasn’t until the anomaly was formed into a single person. Another Spider-Man. A kid.
Miles Morales.
Gwen told you about him a few times. How he was the first friend she made after her Peter’s death. You remembered wanting to meet the boy with how much Gwen kept talking about him. And you told Gwen this as well. That they should plan a day to go visit him. Unfortunately, that day never came to fruition.
The unfortunate part was the why.
“What are you not telling me about this Miles guy?” You already knew the answer. You weren’t stupid. You just wanted to know if Miguel would tell you. Would trust you with the information.
Miguel had his back turned to you, facing the screens when you stalked into the room to ask him this. “He isn’t your concern.”
“Bullshit.” You cross your arms. “Clearly, you said something to Gwen. And Jess. Hell, even Hobie. What are you not telling me, Miguel? Why is Miles Morales so important?” You narrow your eyes challengingly, “Or rather, why does he make you so nervous—”
“Enough, Domino.” Miguel said through gritted teeth, trying desperately not to snap at you. “He isn’t your concern. Let it go.”
Hobie had already filled you in on the details before you had come to Miguel about it. The information in itself was troubling, yes. But what was even more troubling was why you were hearing it from someone else other than Miguel. Why did he want to keep you in the dark about this?
That’s when your eyes landed on the old video of him and his daughter. The daughter he lost on another Earth.
“Fine.” You frowned. “Don’t tell me.”
Miguel still had his back toward you. You scoffed and turned to leave. You would’ve been fine to leave it there. That was the one thing the two of you disagreed on the most. The canon stuff. Your sister had to die for it. That’s why Max had become what he had become. That’s why you had left the society, left him in the first place.
Restarting all of this. Thinking you could forgive.
But there was no way you could’ve ever forgotten.
You had to stand by and watch your sister die because it was a part of canon. Because Miguel cared for you and your world so much that he did not want to see it unravel like his did. A part of you wanted to believe that—maybe there was a small part that did—but that didn’t change the grief nor the terror. You just hoped.
Hoped. And hoped. And hoped….
Eventually, you did some research for yourself. Apparently, this Miles guy hadn’t lost his parents but his uncle. Apparently, he was supposed to lose his dad once he became captain. There was nothing you could do about it if it was supposed to happen. You certainly couldn’t tell him that was going to happen.
You couldn’t do anything….
Until you could.
Hobie appeared in the middle of your living room that night.
“I quit that place.” He shrugged, flopping down onto the couch next to you. “But I suggest you suit up, yeah?”
“Why?” You furrowed your brows, placing down your book you had been reading until he unexpectedly arrived.
“Because I ‘ave a good feelin’ you are the only person that wouldn’t like what’s about to happen. What’s currently happening.”
This time you frowned, an aching feeling tugging at your chest.
“Hobie. What’s going on?”
It wasn’t long until you were flying through the HQ, following all of the spider people as they chased after one thing. One person.
Nobody had known you were there. Nor what you were there for. You had blended into the crowd of spider people, flying around, swinging around until you spotted a blip of the boy that they were chasing. And you saw Miguel, Gwen, and Jessica going after him.
All that you knew was that he was alone. The boy was alone. He needed at least one person at his side. One person who understood what he was going through right then.
By the time you had gotten to the speeding trains, Miguel had Miles pinned down to the top of the train. He had yet to see you. But there was no doubt he would sense you. There was no doubt that he would see your flashing figure, zipping toward him. There was no doubt that in the corner of his eye, he would see you flying at him with a kick and landing it just perfectly, and in time before he could prepare to block you.
Now you stood in front of Miles as Miguel rolled away before clawing his hand into the top of the train to keep him on it.
You removed your mask and grinned, “Too slow, O’Hara!”
“Y/N!” Gwen stared at you in shock.
“Who’s that?!” One Spider-Man with a pink robe—and a baby—attached to him questioned in confusion.
Miguel crawled to his feet. In the corner of your eye Miles jumped off the train and disappeared in seconds. “What have you done?!”
You shrugged, “Nothing yet. That depends on you.”
“Y/N, don’t!” Jessica shouted. “You can’t beat him!”
Miguel’s face was twisted into a scowl, mixed with both betrayal and anger, “She’s right, Domino. You can’t win. You’re on the wrong side!”
You pulled your mask back on and melted into a fighting stance, “I don’t have to win. I just have to give the kid more time.”
For a brief second, the scowl was gone. This look was only for you to see. The same look he wore when you first quit the society.
They were back to where it all began. This was the cycle. It was bound to happen. You knew this. He knew this.
“I don’t want to fight you.” He gritted out. “Stand down, Domino. I’ll only ask this once.”
Not once did you budge.
“I hope we come back from this, Miguel.”
You dashed forward.
Miguel let out a roar of anger and dashed toward you.
The two of you would meet in the middle. And for a second, you really wondered…
Would you? 
Would you come back from this?
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princessbrunette · 5 months
Note
All i can think about is rafe cameron buying you stupidly expensive lingerie sets for christmas😵‍💫 and then after breakfast he asks you to model them🤭
SANTA BABY ♡
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gettin me in the festive spirit hehehe this made me wanna spend xmas with the cameron’s so bad :((
cw: christmas duh, family bonding time, i aged Wheezie down to be like 6 years old bc i think it would be cute idk LMAOOO , suggestive themes but nothing too crazy ❀
At his core, Rafe Cameron liked to think he was a family man. He’d often flip out, misbehave, and shit talk his family members it’s true, but Christmas was a time he liked to put it all behind him (Atleast until the new year starts, and he can start up his usual BS)
As you can imagine, Christmas at the Cameron’s was something extravagant. Humungous white christmas tree with silver decorations at the centre of the house, the outside of the house decked with lights that required enough power to start up 3 yachts, fake snow on the porch and Frank Sinatras Christmas album playing round the house at each corner. The years had only softened Ward, and whilst he could be cruel, hard on Rafe and borderline forgetful of Wheezies existence — Christmas was where he shone brightest, just wanting to do right by his kids and now, you, his sons girlfriend.
Receiving presents from the family was a whole different ballgame to your usual Christmas at home, Ward having grinned ear to ear when he handed you the box with the Tiffany’s heart tag charm bracelet glittering under the Christmas lights of the early morning (Wheezie being Wheezie woke everyone up at 6AM sharp.) Rafe, who’d insisted you’d curled right up to his side on the couch wearing his robe resisted an eye roll, his dad always having to out do him, but you seemed elated and he felt his heart warm.
They went all out, Rose handing you a literal 90’s Blumarine runway piece she’d simply overheard you talking Rafes ear off about, the next 5 minutes spent by you and Sarah fawning over it. Sarah’s gift was next, a set of SKIMS dresses you’d been saving to your Pinterest which she couldn’t help but notice, and of course Wheezie proudly handing you a glittery macaroni necklace she’d crafted you at school, which you had no choice but to act like it was the best gift of all.
Come Rafe’s turn, he simply offered his family a smile and patted your side, turning his head to look at you. “I’ve got her presents in my room, figured I’d give it to you privately.” He teases, ignoring Sarah’s ‘Barf’ comment from her cross legged position on the floor beside her little sister.
The family dispersed for a little while, Sarah helping Wheezie set up her new toys on the carpet infront of the tree, Rose and Ward going to start up the food in the kitchen (Ward insists on cooking everything themselves instead of having the chefs do it, because it was tradition.) Before you could wander in there and offer your help, you were being pulled back gently by the arm into your fluffy robe clad boyfriend wearing a poorly masked excited smile. “What, you don’t want your present from me?”
He slides a box from under his bed when you get up to his room again, covered with thin pink gift paper to hide the logo. He sits on his chair, robe falling between his legs and bare knees exposed outwards. “C’mon, sit on santas lap.” He grins and you mirror him, skipping over, happy and spoiled and perching on his leg. He puts the box in your lap and you peel away the paper to see the Agent Provocateur logo with the iconic black ribbon. You widen your eyes at him as if to say ‘Okaaaay, good job’ before wedging your fingertips carefully beneath the cardboard lip and lifting it, seeing 5 sets before you that was perfectly accustomed to your taste.
You remember your trip to the city with Rafe, it was business of course — but you were happy to tag along and walk alongside him watching him handle things for you and his family. You’d spotted the fancy lingerie store, practically pressing yourself up against the glass of the window as you look inside rambling about how you had so many of the sets saved to your Pinterest, pointing out each with your finger smushed to the glass. Rafe nodded distractedly, phone pressed to his ear, leaning on his hip in his gridded shirt and khaki pants that fit too good, before gesturing to you with his thumb that the two of you needed to get moving again, or else you’d be late to the appointment with a buyer. You pout and peel yourself away from the store.
But that was like what, September? Did he go back and buy it all for you? Order it once he’d returned home with you? You’d know Rafe to hold a grudge, but didn’t know his memory served in a positive manner too. “Rafe…” You coo, plucking out the sets and holding them up to admire the intricate lace detailing, spotting matching garters and whatever else you’d mentioned laying in the box. The thought of him fumbling through your underwear drawer trying to figure out your bra size made you giggle, wrapping an arm around his neck in an appreciative squeeze.
“How’d you remember?” Your voice was high in awe, wanting to hold on to this sweet side of Rafe forever.
“Please, I pay attention sometimes y’know.” He smirks modestly, eyes on the box as he admires his work. “So you like it? Yeah?” His hands finding your hips and giving them a soft squeeze.
“Love it, Rafey.” It comes out muffled, because you’re busying yourself with pressing big wet kisses to his cheek, and then eventually his mouth. He pulls away a fraction, lips still brushing yours and eyes cracking open.
“Gonna try it all on for me though, right?” He drawls in that classic Rafe way that you can never say no to and you nod so vigorously you nearly headbutt him. He pats your butt with a pleased hum and pecks you once more. “Atta girl.”
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eternally-racing · 4 months
Text
need you now | lando norris (+ oscar)
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genre: smut , maybe fluff if you squint
wc: <1k (short n sweet 😌)
pairing: lando norris x reader, with a surprise appearance from #81 himself (read and find out hehehe)
warnings: female masturbation, phone sex (ish), voyeurism, dirty talk
rating: R - minors DNI
summary: calling your boyfriend Lando to complain about being horny seems to turn into so much more.
- - - - - - - -
“Landooooooo” you’re whining to your phone camera. You’re throwing a tantrum like a child and you know it, but you just can’t seem to help yourself. It’s been weeks since your boyfriend promised to visit, and after Lando was supposed to come home last weekend but got called into the factory for some last minute meetings, you’re more than a little… frustrated, to say the least. 
You know Lando can tell too. He’s cheeky enough to want to make you squirm, putting on that all knowing smile that you love so much. These conversations have become all too frequent between you two - you nestled into your sheets at home, Lando relaxing in his driver’s room during any free time he has on a race weekend. You’re even wearing one of Lando’s old shirts, and from the way that your nipples are poking through it it’s all too easy for him to tell how horny you are. 
“Lan you don’t understand, it’s like I just need to be fucked. Not a want, a NEED. and you’re not here and it’s the worst.” There are of course much bigger problems in the world, but for a girl who knows the touch of Lando Norris and hasn’t felt it in weeks, this feels like torture. 
Once you get going on the topic, you’ve set the train into motion and there’s no stopping it. Lando of course doesn’t stop you at all, what better feeling is there than your girl talking about how much she misses your dick?”  
“My poor baby” Lando says sweetly with a tinge of sarcasm that makes you roll your eyes “your fingers just aren’t enough, are they?”
Lando knows exactly what you need to hear to egg you on and he says exactly that. “I bet you’re already wet just thinking about me coming back, aren’t you Y/N? You’re thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you when I finally get my hands on you again.” 
You can feel your thong getting so wet and you’re almost in such a sex craze that you’re willing to book a plane ticket to get halfway across the world to be with your boyfriend. If Lando’s going to play games, you can play them too. You lean over towards the camera, giving him a nice shot of your cleavage. “What are you planning to do to me, Lan?” 
And tell you he does. The filth Lando mentions to you is enough to make you feel like you could orgasm without even touching yourself, and small moans and whimpers seem to slip out of your mouth as you try to keep quiet about how much he’s affecting you. There’s promises made of orgasm after orgasm, and even the images in your head of Lando buried beyween your legs is enough to make you clench your thighs together in eagerness.
“Lan, I need you now” you mumble with glazed eyes, “look what you’ve done to me”. You’re about to show him the mess he’s made of your legs and take the oversized shirt off your body when Lando’s eyes go wide and he tells you to hold on for a second. And the words he says as he cuts off your actions make your jaw drop to the floor. 
“Babe, you might wanna say hi to Oscar.” 
You gasp audibly and almost drop your phone entirely. Lando turns the camera all too slightly to the left to show both him and Oscar now. The younger man is settled comfortably onto the couch next to your boyfriend, and the knowing look and slight red tinge to his cheeks tell you that he's been there for your entire conversation. Lando's eyes seem to flit between you and his teammate, trying to gauge if this was his best idea or worst idea ever.
You can barely look him in the eyes as you stumble through greeting Oscar. But it's not missed on Lando that you don't make any moves to cross your arms over your chest or cover yourself up in front of Oscar, and he keeps that information as something to talk to you about later.
“I should head off, mate, but if you ever need help with that problem… I’d be happy to lend a hand.” The Australian boy has the audacity to wink at you through the camera before he picks up his jacket to leave. The Oscar you see in front of you doesn’t resemble the shy, timid rookie you first met at the beginning of the year - you can’t imagine how much else has changed about him since then.
Who knows, maybe it would be worth it to take Oscar up on his offer.
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