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#JUST REGULAR OLD F
champagnemoon · 1 year
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the way the pretty privilege conversation has been diluted to the point where the girls are using instances of men showing a morsel of human decency to them as an example of it
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stealchain · 11 days
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need to make a list with links to all my old das ive made throughout the years so i can just go to them when i want lajsf
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sutorus · 6 months
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✰ HC: BEING IN A SITUATIONSHIP WITH THE JJK F*CKBOYS
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DESCRIPTION: my hcs on what it’d be like to be in a situationship/fwb situation with the jjk men hehe
FEATURED: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem + afab reader, this is fully self indulgent i'm just taking my own shiddy experiences and coping via hot anime men, suggestive content/smut, pretty standard manwhore behavior, slightly toxic, not wholesome, kinda crack tbh, some mentions of degradation as a kink, objectifying women, just like the real thing lol!
A/N: LONG BUT READ! this will Not have an ending where you get together at least not rn these are just my hcs all in good fun ur just having fun ok ur not heartbroken everything is okay. they are not good boys here they are normal regular boys
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GOJO SATORU
has way too many hoes. way too many
so much so that he gave up on remembering their names and just saves their numbers like “osaka w the hand kink”, “big tits shibari”, “slut from trig”, “hostess best bjs”
has someone’s boobs with his name written on them in sharpie as his wallpaper
says i love you when he cums inside and you never know if you should believe it
throws you off when he agrees to meet your friends only for him to flirt with them in front of you
takes you to the best clubs with bottle service, lets the girls sit on his lap and laughs when you get mad
pays for your ubers everywhere every time
into the weirdest shit like wearing your underwear laughing like a lunatic the whole time he’s fucking you then after he cums gets sulky and embarrassed
lays it on thick with the pet names, gives zero fucks if that confuses you even further
very public with you and it makes you wonder how many other girls put themselves through this humiliation just for the d
gets jealous about you being with other people and needs to prove himself by eating it from the back or something
fwb with gojo is just a huge mindfuck honestly he doesn’t take anything seriously and this is no different sorry! it’s fun tho!
GETO SUGURU
keeps it extremely platonic because he likes to tell himself he has a conscience
too busy for regular chit chat ignores your texts all day then hits you up when he wants to fuck
even more of a whore than gojo is which is why he makes sure not to lead anyone on he just does not need the trouble
answers all your personal questions about him with one word answers
he lets you choose the movie for netflix and chill at least! but will never remember it or the fact that it’s your favorite :(
cleans you up after sex and brings you water
has female hygiene products in his bathroom which is both a red and a green flag
lets you stay after sex and you just lay there on his bed watching him do stuff on his computer but he will not be talking to you
never calls you baby or anything when he’s fucking you just goes oh fuck yeah right there fuuuuck your pussy
genuinely respects you and has nice decent sex with you unless you tell him that you’re kinky
in which case he fucks you just how you want it and gets off on how turned on you are
not one of those guys who gets jealous of sex toys and holds the wand on your clit for you
likes to make you cum over and over and over again
fwb with geto makes your heart clench because he’s just such a gentleman but you got way too much competition to even think about it
NANAMI KENTO
a professional in every sense of the word
uses sex as stress relief
thinks he's too old for this shit but you make him feel alive so he fucks you like he can empty all of his frustrations into you
invites you to his apartment serves you expensive liquor and lets you initiate things most times unless he’s too pent up
can actually have very nice conversations with you
never has the “what are we talk” because he makes it clear he’s too busy for a relationship
lets you spend the night if it’s too late but solely for your safety/logistics
does your taxes for you but will not call you anything beyond an “acquaintance”
texts you happy holidays but does not know when your birthday is
gets tested consistently even though he’s not fucking anyone else and always uses a condom unless you beg him not to
eats you out because he thinks it’s relaxing and spends hours prepping you
the sexual tension is soooo thick when you two fuck all you can hear is grunts and growls and moans and wet slapping sounds and it’s so hot
has some random turn ons like gets bricked up when you’re wearing lipstick or stockings
fwb with nanami is very enjoyable and easy it’ll get complicated if you develop feelings because he does not want to date but who cares yolo am i right
FUSHIGURO TOJI
broke ass deadbeat dad why are you into him
absolutely nasty sex
you know if he had a girlfriend he’d respect her too much to do the things he does to you
dick game so bomb that you’re scared he’s gonna give you a child even when he’s wearing a condom
wants to fuck you every way he possibly can on every fuckable surface with zero regard for your physical integrity
eats his cum right out of you
ego is so big, grins so wide and fucks you so hard when you stroke his muscles
loves to eat pussy but only after he’s fucked you because he likes it tight and hot with minimal prep
doesn’t follow you on any social media but jerks off to your instagram pics
has like 3 different phone numbers and you don’t know why
has only let you come over once, didn’t let you shower after
no pet names but calls you a dirty whore and other degrading shit
loves it if you cry on his dick
doesn’t give a fuck about your safety sorry you’re on your own
has never told you his last name
one time you asked to see a picture of his son and he didn’t speak for 3 whole minutes
fwb with toji is the nastiest sex you’ve ever had truly it’s just sinful and everyone’s dark hidden fantasy half of it you couldn’t tell your closest friends because it’s just too much
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a/n sorry
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keeksandgigz · 3 months
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somewhere we can be alone
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stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!fem!reader
a collab with @reidsbtch- mariah is literally the best person to collab with, it's like our brains were making out the whole time we were writing this. thank u for letting me collab with you to write this absolutely not self indulgent, way too long fic together <3
summary: Now on the tail end of graduating, Eddie Munson is required to take part in an extracurricular activity. He's assigned as stage manager for the school's production of Romeo and Juliet. You, the star of the show, aren't too happy to have your senior performance sabotaged by one long- haired metalhead.
word count: 7.7k words
warnings: no y/n, no physical description of reader, swearing, oral (m & f receiving), enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, mentions of queer!reader, it's actually just fucking smut, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cream pie, use of nicknames (baby, sweets, sweetheart etc), eddie being a stupid lovable idiot
This and all of mine and mariah's works are 18+ minors do NOT interact
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He’s been slumped in the guidance counselor’s office for thirty minutes, the wooden chair digging into his bones, growing uncomfortable as he listens to her, hardly believing he’s so close to leaving this fucking school himself.
“You’re keeping up your grades and maintaining regular attendance, Eddie. You’re just missing one last thing to be able to graduate.”
He rubs his face, maybe from the lack of sleep, or the restlessness of finally being able to leave the office he spent way too much time in during the past six years, as long as he keeps showing up to school for the next two months. He groans regardless.
“What would this ‘last thing’ be? Am I gonna be sent on a quest to slay a fucking dragon? Is that what’s gonna take me to graduate?” He snaps, the lack of sleep has finally gotten to him– school doesn’t really appeal to his late bird nature.
The counselor gasps at the crudeness of the profanity “Language!” She exclaims, like he’s never heard that before, daring to swear in front of students, staff and faculty alike, but the blonde lady with the ridiculously coiffed and teased and sprayed hair composes herself again, jutting a look down to his student folder again.
He imagines it to be full of red pen marks, every single one of those a proof of his own failure. He’ll steal it the day he graduates– and set it on fire. Hell, he’ll even roast marshmallows on it.
“Anyways,” she explains in a way that really shows the massive stick up her ass that makes her think Eddie should just stop bothering with school altogether. “You have to partake in an extracurricular activity.”
And he chortles. He was thinking something dreadful like picking trash up at the park or feeding and bathing the old people at the retirement home.
“Something funny, Mr. Munson?” Her nostrils are flared, she can’t wait ‘til he leaves her office.
“So like- like drama club and shit?” His tone is incredulous, he can deal with a couple lines to memorize. He’s had to do way worse for his Dungeon Master role, and even then, Miss George likes him– she’s let him and the club play DnD in her room for the past two years. Should be easy.
The counselor takes her glasses off her pointy nose, letting them hang with a tacky pink, flowery chain around her neck. “Well, yes– that’s one of the options. Unfortunately, your GPA is not high enough for you to partake in the school play, per se, so I can only place you in the backstage crew– building sets and moving things around. We’ll put that brain of yours to work.” She chuckles as she hands him a slip of paper to give to Miss George.
Eddie picks up his bag, “Real funny, huh.” He shrugs his shoulders and heads to the school auditorium. Last time he was there he’d gotten caught by a custodian while Terry Richardson’s face was stuck in between his legs, trousers pulled down halfway down his thighs as she gave him a toothy blowjob. He got suspended for a week.
He sees Miss George sat in the audience, scribbling notes onto a notepad as you recite the famous balcony monologue from Romeo and Juliet. He knows you, he’s seen you around– you’re by no means in the popular crowd, but you stand out, in the way that your clothes always seem to border the fine line of what's socially acceptable and outrageously eccentric.
Even if you’re not part of the popular crowd, there’s no denying that, like the rest of the school, you avoid him like the plague, cute as he is. You interrupt your monologue as you see him smirk down the central aisle of chairs. Miss George turns around at the sudden interruption. Eddie just hands her the slip.
“Oh my goodness!” she coos, “We have a stage manager.” And he wishes he could have photographed the look on your face. “Stage manager?! Miss George, you can’t be serious!” You exclaim as Eddie takes a seat next to her, kicking his boots up on the back of the chair in front of him.
A smirk ever present on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you. “He doesn’t have any experience.” You continue, not about to have your senior year performance ruined by Eddie Munson of all people. “Shouldn't be that hard to keep a diva like yourself in line, hmm?”
Eddie answers before Miss George has a chance to, the theater now going quiet except for a few snickers from the tech crew. “Alright, that’s enough from the both of you. Eddie, I’ll have our ASM get you up to speed. Now, please continue with the monologue.” The male only grins wider as you glare back, before looking back down at your script with a sigh.
He ventures backstage– not sure what ASM stands for and maybe too embarrassed to ask as he sees kids dressed in black moving wooden planks onto the stage, carrying cans of paints and brushes.
He taps a kid on his shoulder, arranging a prop table, he looks at Eddie like he’s seen a ghost.
“I was looking for the ASM?” The kid is looking side to side, still wondering why Eddie Munson is talking to him.
“Uhhh, she’s in the booth.” He mutters, before turning around and going back to his props. What the fuck is a booth?
Eddie just plainly decides to look for it himself, since nobody’s any fucking help in this school. He opens door after door- a storage closet, a closet just for wood, a bathroom. Arrived at the last door, he isn’t exactly sure he’s ever going to find this stupid ASM- and he still doesn’t know what that stands for.
The noise of a door opening startles you, as you try to put on your dress as quickly as you can to avoid flashing someone. It’s only when you see who it is that you start screaming, and with you, Eddie just pops a hand in front of his eyes, screaming a string of sorries, and that he hasn’t seen anything.
“I was just looking for the booth! Stop screaming!” he screeches, worried he’s gonna get himself in trouble with Miss George if she hears you screaming like you’re getting skinned alive. Thankfully, you stop, as Eddie looks away, aware of your exposed back peeking through the zipper. You clutch the fabric against you, struggling to zip up the back of your dress one-handed.
Eddie makes a whistling sound, distracting himself from the way you seem to be teetering between asking for his help and telling him to fuck off.
“The door to the booth is in the audience, by the way. Off to the side, there’s some stairs.” You huff, slightly getting your zipper up. He goes to turn around, but you stop him. He cocks an eyebrow.
You roll your eyes, lips in a thin line as you keep the door open with one hand.
“Can you make yourself useful and help me with my zipper?”
With an annoyed huff he steps fully into the dressing room, shutting the door behind him as you turn your back towards him once more. Carefully clutching the dress, your eyes meeting his in the long row of vanity mirrors in front of you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he steps closer, carefully lifting your hair over your shoulder.
Eddie’s fingers follow the seam of the unzipped garment, barely tracing the bare skin of your back. You try to hold off the shiver from passing through you as he slowly begins zipping it up. A hint of a smirk on his mouth as he notices the goosebumps breaking out across your skin. “Anything else princess? Or am I free to go?”
His fingers now fall away from you, clearing your throat as you try to shake off the arousal that was now coursing through your veins. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how frazzled he had just made you.
Instead of answering, you just groan, eyes lifted up, going past him and clocking him in the shoulder as you headed back on stage. God you were fucking insufferable.
Eddie finds out that ASM means Assistant Stage Manager and that said ASM was none other than Max Mayfield, roped into doing theatre tech for extra credit. And that the booth was where they tampered with the lights and shit. All he had to do as Stage Manager for that rehearsal was oversee the light cues, which proved to be a little more complicated than he initially expected.
He messes up most of the cues in the first act before he finally seems to have gotten a grasp of it. All the while you’re tossing glares his way, using the light cues as an excuse for the harsh looks. But really it’s due to your annoyance at how the mere brush of his fingertips left you wanting more. Wanting more of him, despite your better judgment– you were not about to have him ruin your senior show.
And in spite of that, you closely follow Eddie’s actions. In a lull between scenes he stands up, you follow him with your eyes as he enters back into the auditorium, beelining backstage.
Eddie’s not totally sure what shit designer built the theatre, because he might as well have pissed himself on the way between the booth and the only bathroom in the auditorium. Not only that, but he kept missing cue after cue, followed by the dirtiest looks known to man, straight into his eyes. After the encounter you had in the dressing room– fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, feeling you shiver under his touch, he knew he had some kind of leverage over you.
So when he’s done taking a leak and looks down at the door, he’s sure you’re behind it, slipping a little piece of paper in the crack.
Meet me in the booth after rehearsal. XX
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Eddie wouldn’t say he was nervous, his curiosity was piqued more than anything. However, he’s antsy the last half of the show, leg bouncing as he tries to listen and follow Max’s instructions. The girl gives him an annoyed lecture in between cues. But his mind’s a little preoccupied, trying to figure out what exactly you want from him.
So when he re-enters the dark light booth once everyone else has left, he doesn’t expect you to shove him up against the door, locking it with a swift click. His breath hitches in his throat, both in confusion, and at the fact that you’re fumbling with his belt, despite the dirty looks you’ve been giving him the whole afternoon.
“What uh- what are you doing?” His tone is alarmed, stammering as he tries to grab onto the door handle for purchase. You’re too busy getting his jeans down to bother.
“Sucking you off. That okay?” You look at him for a reassurance that comes almost immediately with a violent nod of his head.
He’s confused, but he’s not going to turn you down. After all, he felt the way you tensed under his touch while he was pulling up your zipper, “Shit, fine by me.” He shrugs, acting like he isn’t busting at the seams waiting for you to pull down his pants.
Eddie’s belt makes a clinking sound, along with his wallet chain while you pull his pants down to his thighs. You move his trembling body away from the door, against the table with the light console. His knuckles turn white as he grabs the edges on the table for support.
Gripping the hem of his checkered boxers, freeing his hardened length. Your eyes widening slightly at the sight of it, he’s big— a lot bigger than you expected. Even in the dim lighting he notices your shocked expression.
“Ya gonna just stare at it all night sweetheart?” He asks, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. You shoot another glare his way, before grasping the base of his cock in your fist, licking a long stripe up the shaft. Feeling satisfied as you hear his shaky intake of breath. Eagerly you take him past your lips, as a low groan leaves his own.
“Shit,” he curses as your warm mouth envelops him fully, ringed fingers knotting themselves in your hair. You open your mouth as wide as you can, taking him deeper. Gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you try to adjust to his size. He’s by far the biggest one you’ve had.
“Talked such a big game with that mouth of yours sweetness, am I too much for you?” Your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, his cock slipping from your lips as you pull back.
“Do you ever shut the fuck up Munson?” You huff, but before he can reply with another snarky remark your tongue is swirling around the tip of his cock. Silencing him for a moment as you take him back into your mouth.
Another string of curses falls from his lips, as his hips begin thrusting into your mouth with an abandon you haven’t seen before. Your cheeks are hollowed and he can feel himself getting embarrassingly close.
“F-fuck where- where’d you learn all of this?” It comes out in broken pants, and he can feel a smirk forming on your lips as you take him out a second time.
“One thing about theatre people is that we’re all gonna fuck each other. You should see how I eat pussy,” you shrug, putting him back in your mouth, and Eddie swears he’s about to bust in less than a minute.
“I’m gonna- fuck.” But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence, as you take him out of your mouth and stand back up.
Eddie’s bewildered expression is easy to read as he looks at you like you shot his dog. But you get close, dangerously close to his lips, your nose almost bumping his.
“That’s for fucking up my light cue, idiot,” it’s a feeble whisper against his lips before you’re gone into the darkness of the theatre. Too shocked to react, Eddie’s left with his pants pulled down for a good two minutes before registering what happened.
So he’s left blue balled in that stupid light booth, fuming and confused. There was no way in hell he would let you treat him like that and walk away the way you did.
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Eddie had been scheming all week between rehearsals, attempting to find a good time to get you alone. He wasn’t about to let you get away with leaving him like that, but you were actively avoiding him.
But an opportunity fell into his lap without any effort on his part, Miss George asking you to stay behind to work on some blocking with her. As the stage manager he was required to stay behind too, his mind already reeling with possibilities.
So when you duck behind the curtain to change out of your costume, Eddie is quick to swoop in. Offering to shut down the lights and lock up, and Miss George is more than willing to let him.
By the time you get back on stage the theater is dark, the ghost light shining brightly center stage. “Eddie? Miss George?” You call out into the darkness, getting complete silence in return.
“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” You groan, clutching the strap of your book bag tightly. Of course he’d leave you in the dark theater to fend for yourself. “Asshole.” You mumble under your breath, reaching your hand out in front of you as you make your way across the dark stage.
You’ve bumped into multiple set pieces at this point, as you attempted to find the stairs leading down to the audience in complete darkness. Your frustration grows with each passing minute, that is until you hear the shuffling of feet.
“Hello?” You call out again, squinting as if it would help you see any better. Fear stirs in your gut as the theater is silent once more, shadows seeming to come to life in the corner of your eyes.
Once you finally reach the edge of the stage, you grip onto the railing tightly as you fumble your way down the stairs. Sighing in relief as you feel the carpet beneath your feet.
You only make it a few steps further before you feel a hand snaking around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest. The other hand cupping itself over your mouth to muffle the scream that leaves your lips.
“Screaming for me already sweets? Haven’t even touched you yet.” His voice is mocking, his warm breath fanning across your neck as he laughs. You quickly squirm out of his grasp, a flashlight clicking on to illuminate his stupidly gorgeous features.
“You fucking psychopath! What were you thinking?” you shove him on the shoulder, he laughs as he zeroes in the flashlight on you, red in the face and furious.
“Had to get back at you for how much of a little tease you were the other day,” he croons. You purse your lips together, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks as you try to stabilize your still quickly beating heart.
“Whatever. Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, but he’s quick to grab your arm and push it behind your back, the flashlight hitting the ground and rolling under one of the seats. His chest is pressed against your shoulder blades as you shudder in his arms.
“You’re not getting away so easily, sweetness.” He breathes against your earlobe as you keen into the warmth of his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his free hand goes to your waist.
“This okay?” he murmurs, and you nod. A sharp nip to your earlobe makes you hiss.
“I can’t fucking see you nod, can I?” You can tell he’s having too much fun torturing you, feeling his hand travel all across your torso and chest.
“N-No,” you whimper.
“Exactly. Try that again,” his hand rests against the waistband of your jeans, awaiting an answer, teasing the skin behind the fabric. The tips of his fingers brush the skin there, making you whimper in response.
“This is okay.” you breathe out, and it’s the only answer he needs to slip his hand past your jeans, unbuttoning the offending material to push his hand further down into your pants.
“That’s a good girl,” he whispers against your ear as his hand cups your clothed core. You waste no time grinding against the heel of his palm, letting small, breathy moans escape you. Afraid to get caught in the dead of night getting touched and fondled by the town pariah.
“You sound so pretty singing for me, don’t you sweets?” he whispers smugly. His hand feels a little too good against you, your hips grinding back and forth following the rhythm he was creating, “Hmm, but I think you can be a little louder.”
You gasp as he slips his hand inside your panties, his calloused fingers encircling your swollen clit. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, your hand gripping onto his thigh. His digits dip lower, teasing your entrance before slipping one inside and curling them up.
You can’t stop the shaky cry from leaving your lips, the sound now filling the auditorium. A smirk tugs at his mouth, using the heel of his palm to press against your clit. “Listen to that… you’ve got such a pretty voice don’t you?”
You dig your nails into the denim covering his thigh, a low groan sounding in his throat. “Wonder what it sounds like when you beg,” he easily adds another finger inside your wet cunt, thrusting them deeper. “N-Never gonna happen Munson.”
Eddie laughs, pulling another moan from you as his other hand drifts up under your shirt to cup your breast. “We’ll see about that.”
His breath is fanning hot and humid against your neck as you reach around to bring his head closer, needing him to be closer.
Nothing he’s saying is registering in your brain, as his fingers pump in and out of you with a torturous pace, feeling his wolfish grin plastered against the skin of your cheek.
He’s watching your every move, your every breath and whimper, biting his lip at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his fingers curl up in a certain manner. You don’t think you have much time left before you release yourself all over his hand, and he knows it.
From the way you keep twitching and tightening around his fingers, he feels you’re getting close, but much like you did that night in the booth, he won’t let you get it that easily.
“Y’close sweets?” he groans, his own hips now grinding against the swell of your ass.
“Uh-huh,” is all you can manage to say, brain scrambled from his words and ministrations.
“You know what you gotta do now, don’t you, pretty?” he bites at the hinge of your jaw, as you cry out, the noise echoing in the empty theatre.
“You gotta beg for it.” And he hears you gasp at that, a dry chuckle leaves his lips. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you cum that easy did you?”
“Mmm- fuck you, Munson.” you struggle against your brain’s desire to one up him and your body’s desire for release.
“C’mon, don’t you want to cum? I bet you’re so pent up from a whole day of staring at me building sets, aren’t you?” and he’s right, your eyes did wander to his arms in his tight fitting t-shirt, with his hair tied up in a low bun as he hammered nails into wooden boards.
His fingers speed up and you can feel it, you’re so, so close.
“Please, let me,” you whine into his arm, biting at the muscle there. You’re getting so loud.
“That’s right, keep begging for me– good girl gettin’ nice and loud for me,” it’s a growl at this point, a string of please please please follow it. Tears pricking at your eyes with how intensely good he’s making you feel.
So close, so close–
He removes his fingers, jerking you out of that hazy state you were previously in. The male now removes himself from you, retrieving the flashlight from under the seat. Your chest is heaving as you turn to face him, anger now coursing through you as he grins devilishly down at you.
“How cute, you thought I was actually gonna let you cum with how you left me the other day?” Eddie’s laughter fills the theater as he steps closer to you. Your bodies almost touching, lifting his fingers that were just inside you up to your lips.
The brunette carefully drummed the digits against your mouth, “Now, be a good girl and clean up the mess you made.” You glare as you let his fingers slip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them in a teasing manner.
You noticed how his breath hitches, his cock straining uncomfortably in his jeans. But there’s no way that you’re helping him out with his little problem now. You playfully bite his fingers that are still in your mouth, as he utters an annoyed ‘ouch’ before taking them back out.
His fingers make their way to your scalp– yanking at the hair, making you hiss. “You think you’re fucking cute? I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal,” his tone makes you tremble, as he takes his hand out of your hair and disappears into the darkness of the theatre, leaving you once again in the dark.
You stumble down the side stairs of the stage and get out of the side door, quickly making your way home.
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And it becomes a regular thing, you and Eddie blue balling each other to the point of frustration, like it’s a sick and twisted power game you both play. After rehearsal he offers to lock up for Miss George and you wait for him in one of the dressing rooms, or in the dimly lit booth. He’s become irritable, and you have as well.
If you were insufferable before, now you’re downright hateful as you yell at the light crew to stop messing up your spotlight moment, or that your costume felt too constricting or your prop too flimsy.
Everything has you on edge, but you don’t hesitate to meet Eddie every night that week after rehearsal. Maybe he’ll let you cum this time.
You wait for him backstage, sitting on one of the set pieces, a throne. There’s a dim overhead light shining on you. Eddie’s lip is caught between his teeth as he looks at you on his Dungeon Master throne.
“Get up.” he commands. The shirt he’s wearing is tight, it makes his shoulders look more prominent. You squeeze your legs together.
“Why should I? My legs are tired from being on my feet all rehearsal,” you give him a fake pout as he inches towards you.
“Because that’s my Dungeon Master throne,” it sounds funny coming out of his mouth, voice low and gravelly “It’s mine.”
You chuckle a bit at that, how is this man being territorial over a set piece?
“And what if I said no?” a smile trapped in between your teeth, looking up at him through your lashes.
A dry laugh escapes him as he crosses his arms, “You’re so spoiled huh? Think you can always get your way? Last time I checked, this week it’s been the total opposite, hasn’t it?” and he’s not wrong, he’s given you all but what you want.
“This is my theatre, Munson. I believe you’re on my turf.” and he laughs at that, like you’ve said some kind of joke.
“You do theatre, sweetheart, c’mon you can’t be serious.” he kneels in front of you, grabbing your thighs and moving them apart with ease.
“Don’t be a bitch, Munson.” you hiss, as you feel his lips on your exposed thighs, kissing the skin there.
He whistles, low and sardonic. A wicked smile on his lips “That’s rich coming from you, you’ve had that nasty little attitude this whole week.” he continues with his kisses, while his hand ghosts over your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat.
“I wouldn’t have this nasty little attitude as you call it if you would just let me- fuck.” his free hand ghosts over your panties. Your skin is sensitive, your brain is sensitive. Another touch and you might explode.
“Hmmm, what was that?” he bites at the flesh of your thigh, a high pitched whimper falling from your lips “Need me fuck that little attitude out of you sweetheart?”
And you’ve been wound up so tight for the past week that it doesn’t take you long to rid yourself of your panties. He takes advantage of you standing up, plopping down to take his rightful seat on the throne.
That cocky smirk is adorning his features, but you wanted to smack it off. “As cute as you think you look in this seat… it’s always been my throne sweets.”
Before Eddie has time to mutter another snarky remark you’re climbing into his lap, crashing your mouth against his. You’ve learned throughout the past week that it’s really the only way to shut him up.
His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your hips, eagerly grinding yourself against the bulge in his pants. Eddie moans into your mouth, his tongue licking your lower lip. You part your lips, allowing him entry as your tongues fight for dominance.
He tastes like Twizzlers and cigarettes, a combination you shouldn’t find as delicious as you do. But it only seems to make you needier, the denim becoming damp as you continue to grind yourself onto him.
“Look at you making a fucking mess on my jeans,” he mumbles against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip which causes you to whine as he pulls away. His chest rumbles as he chuckles, grabbing your cheeks in his hand— forcing you to look at him.
“But I’d rather you make a mess on my cock sweetheart.” His words have your head reeling, the male now gripping behind your knees and lifting you up. You squeal in surprise, clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “Eddie, put me down.”
He carefully lets you slide down his front until your feet touch the ground, spinning you around before bending you over the armrest of his throne. His hands travel up your bare thighs, taking his time to appreciate your soft skin.
“Are you going to fuck me or not Munson?” You huff, the male now flipping up your skirt and landing a harsh smack on your ass. “So goddamn impatient aren’t you?”
You hear the sound of his belt clinking open, the zipper being tugged down. It makes you clench your thighs together, something Eddie didn’t miss. His fingers dipping between your legs, teasing you further.
“Trained you well didn’t I baby?” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, despite how your stomach flipped at the word baby.
And you can feel him then, carefully lining himself at your entrance as you try to grind back into him. A firm hand against your hips stops you. “Ready? I’m gonna go slow,” he mutters, and there’s a gentleness in his words, despite his meanness in how he’s handling you.
You hum in approval and brace yourself. There’s a loud groan coming from behind you as he slips inside your warm heat, reveling in how you almost suck him in, a small gasp leaving you from the stretch.
“Big stretch, huh?” he coos in a cocky lilt, and you almost wanna reach around and punch him, but this idiot has your eyes rolling back from the fullness, and he’s not even all the way in yet.
So you nod, followed by a needy little whine that makes him chuckle low in his chest– you need him that much?
He goes deeper, spurred on by your noises, by how much you need him to fill you up. A sardonic smile on his lips as he bottoms out and slams all the way in, causing you to shriek.
Eddie sets a fast pace, not really giving you any time to adjust, but he’s already nudging that spot deep within you, making you see stars.
You hear him groan, “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you sweets?” and it’s a rhetorical question, because your tongue feels too big for your mouth and there’s nothing coming out of it besides unintelligible whines and moans as you hold on to the armrest across from you.
Your noises only encourage him to go faster, and it’s almost too much the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside you. You try to distance yourself from him, just enough to catch your breath, but he grabs your shoulders, using them as leverage to ram deeper into you.
He leans over, his clothed chest against your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“Goin’ somewhere, baby? Thought you could handle me.” He bites at your earlobe, and there’s just so much going on in your brain that you can’t possibly muster any response to whatever he’s telling you.
“Oh I said that, didn’t I? When we first met. I said I could handle a spoiled little diva like you, and look at that,” he laughs, and you’re sure you’re about to combust. Your fingers reach to grip the cushioned seat of the throne, as another wail leaves your lips.
“Singin’ my praises now aren’t you baby?” The wood of his throne digs into your hips and stomach as he pushes you further into it, a feline movement as he drapes himself off and over you, his hands now gripping the armrest opposite of you for purchase.
Your legs begin to give out, as you beg God or whatever entity up there that he won’t give into his sick little game. That he’ll let you cum this time.
“Shit, sweets, you’re gripping me so tight.” he grunts, a boyish grin on his face as small uh uh uhs fill the room.
“Should we let you cum tonight? We can’t have you being a bitch tomorrow, it’s the end of hell week,” he jokes, and it almost feels humiliating, how he can make fun of you like this and you’re just going to keep fucking yourself back onto him.
“God- Fuck- Please!” you beg, with all the strength you can muster, and he can’t help but let a satisfactory grunt leave his lips.
“Look at you begging, don’t even have to ask now, do I?” and you can feel him twitch inside you. He’s also getting close.
“Ready?” he huffs, with the last little bit of stamina he has, and you can’t brace yourself enough for the wave of pleasure that washes over you with the last few snaps of Eddie’s hips as you come undone with a loud cry, echoing through the dark halls of the theatre.
“Fuck, okay, where should I–” he begins, he’s at his wits end.
“In…side,” is all you can say before he stills himself inside of you, letting his release take over him with a loud groan. His warm cum painting your inner walls, leaving you feeling satiated.
Eddie stabilizes his breath, forehead leaning against your shoulders, days on days of pent up frustration hanging like mist in the air. You’re both able to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever.
“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, lifting himself off of you as he slowly slips his cock out. You can feel his cum beginning to drip down your thighs, your legs wobble as you attempt to stand. Knees buckling as you try and find your discarded panties.
“Whoa there, I got ya,” he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you against his warm chest. It felt good, leaning against him like that. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I’m fine Eddie.”
You push yourself off only to nearly fall once more, an annoyed grumble leaving his lips, “Are you always so stubborn?” He reaches down for your panties, guiding you to sit on the edge of the throne so he could help pull them up your thighs.
It was an unusually tender action, and not one that you expected from him. “Thought you didn’t want me sitting here?” You tease, his brown eyes glancing up as he’s kneeling before you.
“I’ll let it slide this one time,” he chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. A dimple you had never noticed before indenting his cheek, another feature that now found annoyingly attractive.
You roll your eyes at him and stand up, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal.” You quip, as you try to wobble off the stage, he runs after you.
“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk home like this,” and there’s a tender look in his eyes, something close to genuine concern. “My van is out front, I can drive you.” He points in a general direction behind him, and you want to say no so badly.
But you don’t, and now you find yourself being driven home by Eddie. His dingy van smells like cigarettes and weed and it squeaks every time he goes over a bump. There’s loud music blaring through the stereo speakers and an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.
“So uh, you excited for next week?” Eddie’s the first to break the silence, briefly turning towards you.
“I’m actually kinda nervous,” you admit, sinking into the seat. “It’s a big role, big shoes to fill. I guess I’m just scared I’m not gonna be any good.” You chuckle, almost embarrassed at your admission.
“You? Not good? I’ve seen you, y’know? I’m not just staring at your tits during rehearsal. You’re pretty darn good.” He gives you a half smile at that, pulling up next to your house.
You’re a bit flustered by his compliments, finding yourself not wanting to leave his company just yet.
“Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it,” you smile at him.
“And hey, if you still feel nervous opening night come find me— I’ll help you,” he winks at you and you can’t help but laugh, as you see him looking at you with a big grin on his face.
You look at him back, and God, maybe it’s the streetlights or the moon, but he’s never been more beautiful. In a leap of courage you lean over the dashboard and peck him on the lips.
As you detach from him and reach for the door handle, he pulls you back in deeper, searing and intense, one of those kisses that have your tummy flipping. Except it’s not in the comfort of the theatre, and without an underlying motive behind it.
Just you and him. In his van.
You let your lips part, give him access to your mouth, but he stops you.
“It’s midnight,” he whispers against your lips. “Dress rehearsal tomorrow, you need to rest.” He smiles as you place another peck on his lips. Pouting as you reach for the door handle. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you until you’re inside, seeing the light of your room turn on.
Once he knows you’re safe, he starts his van back up and pulls away from your house with the cheesiest grin on his face.
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Opening night. It’s finally here.
You should feel excited, and yet all you want to do is lock yourself in one of the broom closets and hide. You’ve never felt so nervous before, thinking of all the different outcomes that could occur. What if you forget all your lines? Or you have an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction during a quick change?
Your mind is reeling as you enter the dressing room, the rest of the cast buzzing excitedly around you. You fake a smile and sit at your station, noticing the bouquet of lilies resting on the counter top. You can feel yourself flushing, opening the card that came with it.
Break a leg Juliet xx.
You ask around the rest of the cast but no one knows who left them, and while you hoped they came from a certain metalhead… you couldn’t be so sure. Your little cat and mouse game had suddenly turned into something very real, and part of you was afraid it would be over once the curtains closed.
You get ready for the show in a daze, now staring at yourself in the dressing room mirror as nerves rage through your insides. The rest of the cast had dissipated, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.
“There’s the leading lady,” Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your haze, meeting his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He must have noticed the look of panic across your features, as he rushes to your side.
You give him a weak smile in return, letting a heavy exhale escape past your lips.
“So uhhh, did you like the flowers?” He asks, and he can see your eyes light up in the mirror, momentarily forgetting nerves, fear and anxiety.
“So it was you,” he coaxes you to face him, kneeling next to you with a large grin.
“T’was I, fair maiden.” He does a half bow from his kneeling position, making you giggle.
“So you’re in love with me now?” You tease, as Eddie’s hands come to rest on your thighs, spreading them as much as he can in your dress before moving in between them.
“I’m literally going to die from nerves, what if I mess up my lines?” you begin, but Eddie seems to have much different plans.
“There she is….” he murmurs, more to himself.
You feel the heat pool in your middle at his words, squirming a little in your seat. Eddie reaches to cup your chin, tilting it down so you meet his gaze. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, “You know, my offer still stands Lady Capulet.”
“Here? The doors are literally opening in fifteen minutes, don’t you have stage manager things to take care of?” your tone is alarmed, rather, a mix of alarm and excitement.
“My job as stage manager right now is to make sure Juliet feels comfortable enough to go on stage,” he grins, peppering kisses over your hand and wrist.
“But what if we get caught? Or you make me cum so hard I forget my lines?” The nerves make you ramble, as his chin rests on one of your thighs.
“As good as I am at eating you out sweetheart, I doubt that’ll happen.” He bunches the fabric of your costume up your thighs, beginning to give sweet caresses on the skin of your legs.
You seem unconvinced, still.
“Look, I’ll sweeten the deal. If you get all your lines right, which I don’t doubt you will, I’ll take you out on a date.” His lips are pursed in a coy smile.
Your eyes widen, “Like a date date? You and me?” and your heartbeat picks up.
“Who else, idiot?” Eddie laughs, which makes you smile, “Now,” he begins.
“Do you want me to do something about those jangled nerves of yours?” And you can’t help but bite your lip and nod.
His lips begin trailing up your thighs, a shiver running through you from his tender actions. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” He pauses, shifting closer as he switches sides, now leaving open mouth kisses along your opposite thigh. “It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.”
You feel your breath hitch in your throat as he works his way to your clothed center, his eyes flicking up to look at you. “Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon… and whatever the fuck else Romeo says.” Eddie chuckles before eagerly pressing his mouth against your clothed pussy, his tongue lapping at the wet spot on the cotton.
A gasp bubbles deep in your throat at the sensation, feeling the bliss of his tongue through the cotton barrier, your body easing up from its nervous state.
He looks up at you, “Good, huh?” He hums through the fabric, and you’re wound up so tight you’re already panting.
He taps the side of your thigh to get you to lift your hips, removing your panties in the process.
A low whistle escapes him as you spread your legs for him again, “Talk about eating in costume, baby, jeez.” He chuckles, and the joke makes you laugh too.
A short lived laugh at that, turning into a breathless gasp when his tongue makes contact as he begins to lap up the length of your pussy.
Your hand immediately goes to tug at his curls, not caring that they’re tied up and out of his face to be able to see the cue sheets. The delicious pull at his scalp makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.
A low moan falls out of your lips, catching yourself, hand flying to your mouth as you hear the rest of the cast clamoring outside.
“Gotta be quiet, Lady Capulet,” he snickers as he goes back to burying his face between your legs. His tongue darting in and out of you as a hand reaches for your mouth, wetting two of his fingers.
You don’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him, a bite at the juncture between your pelvis and your thigh, “Atta girl.” He mumbles against the wet skin, popping his fingers out of your mouth to tease at your entrance.
“That’s it baby, focus on me.” A whine escapes you as you’re now grinding on his tongue, his fingers enter you slowly, head thrown back in pleasure.
“You nervous, baby?” He asks, a cocky smile on his face. His fingers curl upward, your eyes squeeze at the overwhelming sensation.
You shake your head, still sentient. Not too far gone yet.
“You gonna use me to get off, my lady?” His fingers are pumping faster, feeling tears brimming on your waterline, hoping to not spill all over your face, your stage makeup seems to be in precarious conditions.
A familiar warmth, deep in the pool of your tummy, “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You know how much he likes to hear you sing for him. His spare hand grabs onto your thigh, rings biting the soft skin there, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.
“Thaaaat’s it, you’re doing so well,” he whispers. One more pump of his fingers and you cum with a silent cry, biting onto your hand, feeling yourself pulsate around his fingers.
Without much warning he slips them out, sucking on his own fingers, tasting your own delicious essence.
“Places!” You hear Miss George say backstage, as Eddie retrieves your panties for you and slips them up your legs.
Eddie fixes his hair in the mirror, tying them back. He places a kiss on your cheek with a hurried, “Good luck— uh fuck I meant break a leg.” Then he furtively leaves the dressing room.
You feel a blush spreading across your body, finally relaxed and ready to begin the show.
You leave the dressing room, joining the rest of the cast, full of excitement. You know all your love monologues are going to be directed towards a certain metalhead tonight.
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The show goes smoothly and you don’t forget a single line, you’re surrounded by family and friends, ready to do it all again the day after.
You go back into the dressing rooms to grab your stuff and change, but a long mop of curly hair occupies your chair.
“Eddie, you can’t be here!” you whisper, as he turns around with the biggest smile plastered on his face.
“Just wanted to tell my girl congratulations in private. You smashed it tonight,” you blush at the nickname.
“Since when am I your girl?” you ask, not letting him see how much it affected you.
“Since you kissed me in my van when I dropped you off, gorgeous.” He flirts, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth.
“So, how about that date?”
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thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
tagging: @thornsnvultures, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @duuhrayliegh, @ali-r3n, @sunnythevampireslayer, @bimbobaggins69, @jamdoughnutmagician, @eiightysixbaby, @aphrogeneias, @daisy-munson, @gravedigginbbydoll, @s6raphic, @take-everything-you-can, @strangerstilinski
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studioghibelli · 3 months
Text
bewitched, bothered, bewildered.
a joel miller x reader
summary: after your parents leave on a cruise for winter break, your best friend sarah invites you over to her house for the holidays. she failed to mention her father is the hottest man in the world.
warnings: best friends dad!joel, slight canon divergence as in Sarah is college aged come 2023, a big phat girthed up age gap, alcohol consumption, reader has just gotten out of a relationship, various media references, smut (fingering, female masturbation, f receiving oral, dirty talk, pet names, tiniest sir kink.) mdni!
note: this could be a series. i’m not too sure right now. let me know if you’d be interested in this as multiple parts!
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You had never been to Texas before.
Tales of obnoxiously large barbecues, ten gallon hats, and vast, desert plains where rattlesnakes roamed freely filled your mind. Sticky sweet iced tea, kind old women who called everyone “honey”, and dry, arid heat were also things you associated with Texas.
And, sure, Texas was hot and humid as hell.
But it was beautiful.
While the plane made its final descent down to the Austin airport, your eyes took in the most beautiful sunset you had ever gazed upon, never before seeing oranges and reds quite as beautiful. By the time you deplaned, the deep navy of the night sky showcased millions of glimmering stars. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw so many stars. It must have been ages, but nonetheless they had ignited you with a sense of wonder.
“It’s about an hour, to my place.” Sarah warned, standing by your side as you both waited to catch sight of your luggage.
You nodded a bit, patiently looking to see your dark teal suitcase pass through the conveyor belt.
“Hey,” she nudged you in the side, causing you to glance her way. “Are you still thinking about your ex? Not good for you, so you better stop.”
“What if we were soulmates?” You grumbled, knowing how stupid you sounded. Your shoulders slumped forward. You didn’t actually think that idiot was the person you would spend the rest of your life with, but it was nice to have someone. To have… your person.
“If you two were soulmates, you wouldn’t have been broken up with. Now would you?” Sarah smiled sadly, gently patting your head. “Winter break is a month long. Who knows? Someone here might catch your eye!”
You rolled said eyes at her wiggling brows, grumbling beneath your breath. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe.”
“My dad has loads of hot guys working for him. They stop by the house sometimes, maybe you could…. I don’t know- waltz downstairs wearing a tight shirt and stick your ass out.” She wiggled her butt against you with a faux-seductive dance move.
“Sarah!” You laughed, gently pushing her shoulder.
“Dad says he should be here in about 5 minutes. Oh! There’s our bags.”
You grabbed your luggage in unison, lugging them off the machine before rolling through the crowds of people, no doubt travelling to and fro for the holidays.
“Look for a black Chevy!” She warned as you walked outside.
“I don’t know what that looks like!” You shouted earnestly, over the hustle and bustle of the pick up area.
Sarah looked at you, before rolling her eyes with a laugh. “There he is!” She waved both her hands towards a truck in the distance. You watched as it pulled to the curb, windows tinted black. When the driver door opened you heard Hank Williams crooning from the stereo, still unable to see the figure that was Sarah’s dad.
The shadow on the sidewalk was broad as it made its way towards the two of you, and when you finally dragged your eyes up, you saw Joel Miller in all his glory.
Tall, rugged, a little rough around the edges- but undeniably handsome. He wore a regular tan crew neck underneath a brown flannel, jeans spread out tight against his thick thighs, with the pointed toes of two leather boots sticking out. His dark hair, littered with strands of drool worthy gray, was slicked back from a fresh shower, one stray curl managing to sneak its way out.
And when he stepped closer, you smelled him. God, you smelled him. He wore just the right amount of cologne, and it made your knees weak. Joel smelled like woody vanilla, swirling with cracks of cardamom and whiffs of lavender tinted flowers of iris. You almost moaned. He smelled delicious.
Joel greeted Sarah, but quite honestly you were too overwhelmed to hear anything they were saying. And then he turned to you.
You.
“Hello.” He smiled a bit, eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite pin point. “I’m Joel. It’s real nice to have you stayin’ with us.”
You smiled. A real smile. He was kind, too? What a fucking dream. “Thank you.” After telling him your name you went to pick up your luggage, before a hand grabbed your arm gently.
His hand. Well worked, rough, calloused- an honest pair of hands that were scarred by a lifetime of hard work. Honorable hands. Sexy hands.
“There ain’t no way I’m lettin’ a pretty thing like you lift that suitcase all by herself. You’re in Texas now, honey. Don’t you know we practically invented gentlemen down here?” He joked, grabbing your bag and tenderly sitting it down in the bed of his Chevy.
You laughed, shaking your head. “I guess I’ll just let you do everything for me, since you’re a gentleman and such.” You teased. You watched the hint of a smile ghost across his lips.
“Well, you might just have to, darlin’.” With a wink that made your belly tighten, he opened the door for you, and you joined Sarah in the backseat.
“Dad, what the hell are you listening to?”
“Hank Williams.” You both said in unison. He put his eyes on you from the mirror, winking at you.
“Bring this one around more, Sarah. I like her.”
Sarah smiled, looking at you with love sparkling in her eyes. The kind of love that only existed between two bonded women, the kind of love that only two girls in a deep, genuine friendship could share. You smiled, giving her hand a squeeze.
“Dad, you know she just got dumped.”
“Sarah!” You guffawed. And that special moment was over. Tenderness now replaced with annoyance.
“Who got broken up with?”
Sarah nudged her head towards you.
“Her?!” He spoke incredulously. As if Joel could not wrap his head around the idea of someone ever leaving you.
You buried your hot face in your hands, mumbling a bit. “Was a fucking jerk.” You grumbled after a long moment of silence, pulling away from your palms to look out the window, watching the city pass by.
“Must have been, breakin’ your heart.”
“Dad, you have no clue. So it all started-” As Sarah started explaining your past relationship and breakup, you watched the backdrop of Austin rush past your window.
Beautiful buildings shimmering in the night, the distant noise of the city clamoring, vibrant grass and trees scattered about. It was stunning, alive, noisy. It was nothing like what people had described Texas as. And the only person who had called you ‘honey’ so far, was your best friend’s hot dad.
You pulled away from where you looked, coming back in to reality. Sarah was still going on and on with her drama spilling. Joel was still listening, or at least looked like he was listening. His plush lips were cemented into a tight line, eyes dark and focused on the highway ahead. He met your gaze in his rearview mirror once again, and the tightness of his furrowed brow softened momentarily. You offered him a hint of a smile, and he gladly took it.
“So, what’re you majoring in?” He asks you. You didn’t quite catch his question. You were examining how his hands looked around the steering wheel as he turned it, the way the pad of his thumb caressed the leather, the way his thighs looked spread out against the brown of the sleek seat. God. Was it normal to wish you were a fucking steering wheel?
You clenched your thighs together. You wondered if he noticed. He seemed rather perceptive.
“I’m sorry sir, what did you ask, Mr. Miller?”
Joel swallowed thickly, sucking in a sharp breath. “Joel, please. Call me Joel. I asked what you’re studyin’, back at school.”
Sarah laughed a bit, not looking up from her phone. “What isn’t she studying?”
You grinned a toothy grin at the comment. “It’s true. I’ve changed my major loads of times. I started with French, then anthropology. Now I’m stuck between film and history. There are a lot of things I love learning about. I just…. want to see the world, experience it all.” You explained softly, looking out the window as you thought. “It’s kind of hard to focus on one thing when your heart is all over the place. Y’know?”
Joel nodded a bit, clearing his throat. “You sound way smarter than me. Been contractin’ my whole life. Nothin’ special like French or history.” You giggled to yourself at the way he pronounced ‘French’, his Texan accent thick on the syllables.
“Contracting is honest work. Takes a big, strong man, you know? It can’t be easy. I admire that.” You hummed. Your eyes met once again. Joel’s tongue flicked across his lower lip, nostrils slightly flared.
Sarah was none the wiser, scrolling through her phone. You hummed a bit, settling in to your seat. By the time you looked at Sarah, she was passed out, fast asleep.
“So,” Joel began, turning on to a dirt road. You saw a few cows in the pasture fast asleep, the moon hanging above them. It looked like something from a storybook. “You heartbroken’ over this break up?”
You thought for a moment. “I don’t…. really know. It’s just weird…. it’s- it’s like I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. Like, yeah, I was cheated on, then dumped. But we did everything together. Went out, grabbed dinner, saw movies. I just don’t know what to fill that up with. I do all those things with Sarah, obviously, but it’ll still be weird. I don’t know. I’m rambling.” You huffed out a breath of air you had been holding, shrugging a bit. “Probably sounds stupid.”
“It ain’t stupid.” Joel reassured softly, his deep voice rumbled like a song through your ears, filling your mind with symphonies and day dreams. Day dreams of feeling his mouth on your own, hearing that voice from behind your back while he took you- wait, what? No! He was Sarah’s dad! You shook the thoughts away. “Don’t uh….” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t feel bad for feelin’ any sort of way. Alright?”
As he pulled into the driveway of his home, you nodded slowly. “I’ll try not to.”
“Do or do not, there is no try.”
You laughed. “Star Wars! I love Star Wars.” You cooed, rubbing a hand down your cheek in an attempt to stifle your giggles.
“Sarah would never watch it with me. Been beggin’ her for years.” Joel admitted through a cracked grin.
“Well, I’ll watch it with you.”
Joel shot you that glance once more. “I’d like that.”
Was it a date? No. Surely not? Stop getting ahead of yourself! You took in a deep, shaky breath, gulping down a thick lump that had been forming. No. Calm down. There was no way.
Sarah woke up with a yawn, smiling when she realized the truck had finally pulled in to the driveway.
Joel helped you all unload your things, showing you to the guest room. “Feel free to help yourself to anything. Fridge, drinks. In the garage we got beers and some of them fruity mixers that Sarah likes. Our home is your home.” He explained, extending that Southern hospitality that you had heard so much about.
You felt your body warming up. “Thank you.”
“And, uh….” He rubbed the back of his neck, almost nervously. “I’ll be downstairs in the livin’ room watchin’ some movies, if you want to join me.”
WHAT?!
“Okay. Sure. I’d like that.” You said calmly, stiffly, and definitely not using a oh-my-god-did-he-really-say-that tone of voice. Nope. Not you. Not at all.
“Don’t feel pressured or nothin’. Just a thought.”
Before you could respond, Joel had walked through the hall and down the stairs. You threw on your pajamas, a simple pair of fleece bottoms and a tank top, rolling the thought over in your head. It would be nice, to sit next to him, hear his laugh, cast glances at his side profile. But you weren’t too sure if you could be trusted. Just out of a relationship, full of emotion, irrevocably attracted to this man….. No. No. It wasn’t a good idea. What if you did something you regretted?
So you climbed in to bed, shutting your eyes tight.
And then thirty minutes passed, and your eyes were wide open.
And then an hour passed, and your eyes were still wide opened.
What-fucking-ever.
You threw the covers off with a huff and walked out of your room, quiet as not to wake Sarah. She had had a rough finals week, and you knew she needed a good night’s rest. You on the other hand? Your body was aflame, every nerve lit up like a Christmas tree by Joel’s charming laugh, perfect hands, stern face. God. Why was he so attractive? So alluring? You buried your face in your hands as you shuffled down the hallway.
You were really doing this.
You reached the couch, and saw Joel watching the television, strong arm thrown across the back of it.
“Uhm, Mr- Uh, Joel?”
He turned to look at you, and you noticed a smirk tease the corner of his lips. “Well, hello darlin’. Started to think you weren’t goin’ to take me up on my offer.” Joel patted the empty space beside him. The couch was small, meant for two people.
You weren’t complaining.
“Yeah, well.” You let out a nervous giggle, sitting down beside him. “Couldn’t sleep, so.”
“Oh. So you’re tellin’ me I’m your rebound?” He joked.
“Yeah. Sorry… I’m real desperate these days.” You teased back, holding an embroidered pillow to your chest.
Joel chuckled a deep, beautiful, throaty chuckle, his arm not moving from the back of the couch, brushing every so often against your shoulder blades. “Do you want a drink?” He asked, turning to look at you.
“Sure.” You smiled softly at him, eyes lingering for a few beats to long. He shook his head a bit, as though he were thinking something he really shouldn’t be thinking, before looking away. A moment of awkward silence fell between you two.
Without missing a beat, he slapped his hands on his knees through a deep sigh, getting up and walking to the garage. When he came back, he had a six pack of beer in one hand, and a box of pre-mixed Strawberry Daiquiris in the other.
“Didn’t know which one to grab for you. A bit of everythin’, I suppose.” He sat the cartons in front of you, and you opted for the Daiquiri.
“Thank you.”
“Of course.” He grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels. “Anythin’ sound good?”
You hummed out in thought, eyeing all the movies. “Oh! Stepbrothers! That’s a good one.”
He looked at you. “Really?” He teased dryly.
“Sarah and I quote it all the time.”
Joel nodded for a moment, before turning to you, a serious look on his face. “Did you… touch my drum set?”
A long bout of silence passed, before you took in a deep breath and looked up at him. “No.”
He furrowed his eyebrows together, clicking his tongue. “It’s just weird, cause it seems like someone definitely touched my drum set.”
“Yeah, that is weird, cause I didn’t touch them.”
You stared at each other intensely, both feigning fake anger, before you broke out into giggles. He shook his head with a chuckle.
“So, Stepbrothers then-”
“Oh!” You cut him off excitedly. “Look! The Empire Strikes Back!”
He hummed in agreement, clicking it on. You both got settled in, your shoulder touching his side, his arm thrown behind your back again. Comfortable silence blanketed the room, and you took in the scene around you.
A small living room, a flat screen propped on a wooden console that looked handmade, a nice rug spread out over the hardwood floors. There were some car magazines on the table, a pair of work boots sitting in the corner. It smelled like him, and his electrifying cologne. It felt like him, too. Masculine, woody, comfortable. It was incredible.
You had finished the box of drinks before the end of the movie, and by the time Han Solo was frozen solid in his fancy little fridge, you were crying your eyes out.
Not because of the movie.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Joel’s eyes slightly widened as he turned to you. “Hey, honey, what’s the matter?”
You sniffled, face planting in to his chest. You were tipsy, the newest recipient of a so called broken heart, and he was warm. So, so warm. Without missing a beat, Joel’s arms wrapped around you, his grip tight and secure. You had never felt more protected, more wanted, more cared for.
“Shh, it’s okay.” His long fingers ran through your hair, gentle and soothing. “Wanna talk about it?”
“I’m such an idiot.” You grumbled into his husky chest, no doubt leaving a stain of tears. “I should have seen it coming. Everyone warned me about… about… even Sarah knew. But I didn’t listen. And now I’m here, crying to my best friend’s dad who is way too hot for his own good, full of all these feelings, and-and-….. oh, fuck.” You realized what had spilled from your mouth, pulling away sheepishly and stuffing the pillow in your face.
Joel sat for a moment, wordlessly, slowly looking at you. He gently pushed the pillow away before his index and thumb grabbed your chin, demanding and gentle, tilting your gaze to meet his own. “Too hot for my own good, huh?”
Your face heated up with embarrassment. You wanted to recoil away, maybe throw up a little. You wanted to climb beneath the couch and die there. Anything but own up to your words.
“It’s okay. Think you’re the first of Sarah’s friends to get a little crush on me?” He joked softly, gently rubbing his thumb across your cheek.
A pinch of jealousy surged through you. It wasn’t making you feel any better. You sniffled loudly, your eyelashes fluttering.
“I will say, you are the first of Sarah’s friends I’ve…. well, you’re beautiful. And smart. And, you know.” Joel paused, clearing his mind. He was usually much better with his words. “Look, darlin’. I like you, a lot. And I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or anythin’, but I can help with that broken heart of yours.”
A gulp of air caught in your chest. With shaking hands, you gently grabbed his own, pulling him closer to you. A deep breath, and then: “Please. Help me forget.”
Joel chuckled, his palm dragging down the side of your body. “I can do that.”
His lips met yours. Hungry, passionate, deep. Joel kissed you like he’d never kiss again, and you happily let him, lips parting, heart mending. He pushed you down onto the soft couch with his weight hovering above your own, fingers tangling into your hair. He wanted you. All of you.
“Can I touch you?” He asked softly, hand moving down to your pajama pants.
“Please.” It came out choked, a plea, a prayer.
He pushed your pants down, allowing you to kick them off, before his palm found your core. Hot, soaked, weeping for him. He groaned, gently rubbing your swollen clit from behind the material of your underwear.
“God damn, girl.” He smirked, eyes darkening. “This all for me?”
You nodded meekly, the inside of your cheek caught between your molars. “Touch me.” You begged.
“Here?” He whispered, his thumb dragging across your soaked slit, over the cotton material.
“Anywhere. Just, please- make me cum.”
“Oh, I’ll make you cum alright, girl. But you’re going to have to stay quiet for me, okay?”
“Okay.”
He pushed your legs back, slipping between them as he lowered himself, now face to face with your pussy. Joel slipped your underwear to the side, his tongue sweeping across his lower lip, before leaning forward and taking your clit in his mouth. You shuddered at the contact, groaning softly.
“I think,” he whispered quietly, your ears straining to hear him, “I want you to rub this pretty clit while I finger fuck your pussy.”
You groaned softly, eyes blown wide and dark, as you slowly sat yourself up on your elbows. “Ye-yes sir.” It just slipped out. You were too horny to care.
A guttural hiss seeped through his teeth. “I like that.” He warned deeply. “Go on, rub it for me.”
You lowered your shaking hand, the tip of your index slowly tracing up the length of your clit. It was screaming, begging, throbbing for any semblance of pleasure.
Joel’s eyes were on you.
He was inspecting your every movement like a panther stalking its prey, eyes full of lust, tongue dripping with desire.
You took in a sharp breath before rubbing your bud between your index and middle finger, a soft breath leaving you.
“Good girl. Good girl.” He praised, middle finger sinking in to your tight cunt. Joel sighed out a string of curses. “You’re fuckin’ tight, baby. That little pussy is drippin’ for me.”
“For you.” You whispered.
He looked up at you as he kissed your thigh, biting down on the soft, supple flesh. “You’re fuckin’ delicious.”
You threw your head back at his words, hips bucking. You felt your orgasm growing nearer, stomach tensing. Joel pushed your hand away, and you jerked your head to look at him, so quick it almost gave you whiplash.
“Sorry, I just can’t help myself.” He leaned forward, sucking at your clit again, his tongue swirling and flattening against it. Joel knew what he was doing.
As his finger still hit inside of you, you brought your hands down to his hair, tugging at his curls, the once slicked style now rampant and messy. You tried to stop yourself from moaning too loud, fearful of waking Sarah, but how could you not?
Joel fucking Miller, the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes on, was worshipping your pussy. You shivered, thighs clenching.
He was worshipping your pussy.
His hot tongue felt like Heaven against you, and Joel was eating you like a starved man, like your cunt was the nectar of the gods. He did what your ex had never done before- he made you feel wanted, made you feel desired.
Joel moaned into your pink flesh, sucking and licking, nibbling and swirling, until your stomach grew tight with a looming climax.
God, he was good at this.
“Gonna cum. G-gonna cum, Jo- oh, oh. Oh.” You hummed out in relief as your orgasm washed over you, eyes widening as he continued licking, sucking, finger fucking- he didn’t care that you were getting sensitive. All he cared about was you. Your sweet pussy, delicious cum, soft folds- he wanted all of it.
“Fuck, you taste good.” He whispered, bringing himself away from your core. “Sweet little thing, ain’t ya?”
Your cheeks heated, and you slowly sat up, legs still shaking. “Jesus Christ.”
Joel chuckled, reaching towards you as he fixed a few strands of messy hair. “Yeah, Jesus Christ.”
You stared at one another for a moment before he tackled you with a deep kiss, hungry and crazed. You wasted no time kissing back, feeling the outline of his cock on your bare thigh. You gasped for air at the touch, already knowing he was big, thick, perfect.
Your hand was moving towards his shirt before the hallway light switched on.
“Fuck. Here.” He tossed you your pants and you quickly slipped them on, resuming your positions on the couch as normally as possible.
As Sarah walked down the stairs, your chest tightened with a sudden realization.
This was going to be a great winter break… if you made it out in one piece, that is.
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writingoddess1125 · 6 months
Text
Find out they have a Child with You
Luffy, Zoro, Corazon
Old men Series <-
Crocodile, Law, Sanji <-
Support me on Ko-Fi! Allows me to make these stories!
Enjoy!
Luffy
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Luffy wasn't exactly known to be the 'Sexuality Active' type- Hell most assumed he was still a virgin by most accounts. That was till you joined the crew..
A childhood friend of Luffy you had always been by his side, and of course jumping at the opportunity to join his crew.
It had been- a open secret if you will, that you and Luffy were together in some way. However everyone assumed it was innocent just like the Captian. You two were young afterall so no one expected anything less- However at night when no one was around you and him shared many nights together. That's how you found out you were pregnant- it was a mistake, this wasn't suppose to happen to you.
You were both too young for this.. too dumb and irresponsible, and you had heard his dreams and goals of being the King of Pirates since you were children- you didn't want to risk stealing his dreams from him... so you did what you thought was best, you ran away.
In the middle of the night you took the lifeboat and disapeared in the east blue water- hoping to never be seen again.
That had been 2 years ago- and your life had never been the same.
"Mama!" You snapped from your deep thoughts to look at your son, Who was happily playing with a toy ship and squealing. He looked too much like Luffy, from the dark head of curls to the bright sunny smile- for a 15 month he was quite a hefty kid and knew quite a few words but his current favorite being-
"Ship!" He said excitedly as he held out the toy for you. You smiled and gently took the toy to look over before handing it back to him.
"I see Aoi, Very nice" You saw sweetly, kneeling down to scoop up the toddler and bring him to your hip.
"You know what day it is! Grocery day!" You said cheerfully making the toddler squeal in joy, you doubted he fully understood you but seeing how he ate you out of house and home you made regular trips to the market with him.
After a short walk outside of your tiny home you made it to the pier market. Filling a basket with one arm and holding Aoi who was squirming like no tomorrow and trying to eat the food you were buying- Having to pay for some food you could rip with your teeth to give to him which he happily eats up. As you are almost done with your shopping a loud voice shouts behind you.
"(Y/N)!" You hear before stretched out hands suddently grab you and pull you back by your waist. A yelp escaping you as you were turned around quickly and met with Non other then Liffy staring at you with a wide smile and holding you up.
You could hear the crew staring at you and the toddler in your arms- Your face starting to turn red as you could hear 'So that why she disapeared?'.. 'Didn't know he had it in him-' .. 'Wait does that mean Luffy and (Y/N) f-' However it was quickly quieted as Zoro scolded them all and insisted they go elsewhere which was guided away by Sanji to God knows where.
Luffy stared at you, then his eyes drifted to the child youbwere holding who was looking around shocked and clearly close to crying. Then back to your face, you knew Luffy could be a bit dense but you saw the recognition immediately as he smiled.
"(Y/N) Wanna come with us to eat?" He asked sweetly, his his gaze following Aoi carefully as the toddler stared back at him. Gulping you nodded softly-
Seemed there was no escaping this one...
Zoro
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{ So fun fact! The whole Roronoa family line, their names are based off gambling. Like Zoro's name is based off the Word Pinzoro aka 'Snake Eyes' So his son Koro is based off the word Saikoro aka 'Dice' }
So who knew that you and Zoro's little flings could lead to... unforseen consequences- like the infant who was currently nursing from you.
Being a favorite Bartender had a lot of perks, you got better tips- often the customers were nicer and for your case you often got to spend the night with your favorite customer Roronoa Zoro- whenever he managed to find his way into town you and him often taking a tumble in the bed before departing ways with a goodbye shot and a promise of next time.
Well it seemed the last time Zoro had visited you, both of you got sloppy in your use of protection. Which resulted in the 4 day old currently in your arms- Looking down you couldn't help but be amused by it all.. This defiently wasn't in your plans yet you couldn't be mad either, Falling in love immediately with your son the moment he took his first breaths.
As you sat there in bed, still recovering from the rather harsh birth of your boy you heard a knock on the bedroom door, it cracking as you saw Sumi- a coworker and close friend of yours poke her head in carefully. However you noticed the panic in her face rather quickly and raised a brow.
"Sumi? Is everything okay?"
"Y-Yea but uh- (Y/N).. A uh customer wanted to stop by to see how you wrre doing" Sumi said calmly, you raising a brow at how ridiculous it would be to allow a customer to see you in this state- Prepared to chew her put the door opened and you saw why she had done this... there stood Zoro- hands to his sides as he stared at you, still lying in bed with the baby in your arms.
Sumi knew who the father of your son was- which is why you assumed she did this.. suppressing your anger you nodded for Zoro to enter. He walked to your bedside and stood next to the bed- Sumi quickly leaving.
Silence fell over both of you as Zoro stared at the child in your arms. His gaze calculating the last time he saw you before stepping forward, you didn't move as he carefully pulled reached a hand forward and pulled the blanket down that covered the babies face. He only had to look for a second to see the tuff of green hair and his prominent features poke through.
Silence fell again as he pulled his hand away.
"Is it a boy or Girl?.. Whats their name?" He questioned Zoro taking a breath as he clearly tried to keep his composure. His mind clearly traveling a mild a second before closing his eyes..
"A boy.. His name is Koro-" You said calmly. He nodded clearly favoring the name.
"Roronoa Koro....He is clearly mine- in that case You can't stay here then-" He said eventually, your eyes widening in shock at his words as you held Koro closer to you. Your eyes narrowing in warning, as he reached forward again to look at the Infant.
"What do you mean by that" You question sharply, assuming he was going to propose you go on the ship he lived on- which you wouldn't allow a baby on a damn pirate ship.
"Shimotsuki Village.. In the east blue, it is were I was born and raided.. I think it would be safer for you there. I can send money so you and Koro will be more then safe" He insisted- this actually surprising you as you saw the seriousness in his gaze.
"I will also marry you" He stated calmly, looking around frantically as the air froze in your lungs.
"What!?"
Corazon
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It had been the first time in many years you hadn't felt shame.. truthfully you had been in a bad place before you had your daughter. A call girl for Doflamingo and his brother Corazon.
You and Corazon actually dating for a brief time and spending nights together, but the violence of that world always made the relationship bittersweet and unfullfilling. Till you found out you were pregnant, you had wanted to keep it under wraps but when a girl who truthfully hated you found out by you being sick in the bathroom immediately told Doflamingo-
Confronting you in private where you were sure you'd meet your end. Till he made sure to confirm the child was Corazon's.. which you admitted to and he forces you to leave- Kicking you out of the village and demanding you disapear before the sunset or else he would make sure no one ever found you.
So you packed everything in a panic and ran- Ran for your own life and your baby. While sad that Corazon would never know what happened to you or his child.. you figured it would be the best.
So you escaped to another village, not far from the place you once called home and started a new. Working in a restaurant you saved money for a small home and supplies for your child. It had been hard but worth it- Especially when you gave birth to your daughter.
Speaking of which-
Pulling from your memories to check on your 3 month old daughter, seeing her fast asleep in her crib as you set to finish dinner for yourself. Humming as you finish chopping vegetables you nearly jump from your skin when you heard a loud knock on the door- Knowing damn well it woke up your child but you rush over anyway to see. Opening the door you see a looming figure blocking the moonlight to you completely and a familiar smell of cigarettes filled your lungs.
"We are here looki- (Y/N)?" You freeze as you immediately recognize that voice, fear striking your heart as Corazon stared at you with genuine surprise stepped back and looked at you fully in confusion.
"What are you doing here Corazon?" You say calmly, Watching how his eyes swirled with questions at the sight pf you. Most likely noticing something was off by your appearance from when you last saw you.
"I should be asking you the same... after all you did walk out" He pointed out- but before you could speak you hear your daughter cry out and you wince. His gaze following you as all you could do was step to the side to let him in.. it seemed easier this way- He walked in fully forgetting his task at him as he marched straight to the noise.
He looked over the crib, taking in the fussy baby girl- how her face strunched up as she whimpered at the air.. Corazon seeing her features noting their similarities needing only to glance back at you once to see you nod.. The confirmation almost seemingly to knock him back before he carefully scoopedbup the little girl and held her close.
"Whats her name?"
"Dulce- Her name is Dulce" You say softly, Corazon smiling at hearing this- chuckling as he gently touched the cheek of his daughter.
"I like it- So this is why you left? If you had told me I would have been thrilled (Y/N)-" You shake your head at this.
"I wanted to tell you but couldnt... it wasn't my choice to leave. It was leave or die" You stress, and Corazon seems to connect the dots instantly. Doflamingo. He slowly hands Dulce to you and nods.
"Im sorry... But I want you to know.. I have a mission to complete- But I promise I will return and we will raise her together" He said calmly, Kissing your cheek and Dulce's who cooed softly and shifted in her sleep.
He smiled at this as he slowly and hesitantly headed for the door, clearly not wanting to leave but forcing himself to anyway for your safety and your guys daughter.
You watched him leave that night, the smell of tobacco still in the air as you held your daughter close- the warmth of his kiss still hanging onto you while you felt your heart sink.
You didn't know that this would be the last time you saw him... that your daughter would grow up never knowing her father.
2K notes · View notes
neonovember · 11 months
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Oh my GOD oh my for okay though that new fic you wrote with Carmy? 12/10 chefs kiss mwah mwah MWAH!! 💕💕💕 That part with Carmy going ballistic and beating the shit out of that asshole customer I LOVED it!! Now it’s got me thinking of Carmen going absolutely feral, just insane if he’s in the kitchen cooking and calling orders, while you’re out front taking orders from customers. He and the rest of the kitchen just go silent and stop in their tracks when they hear a guy just screaming at the top of his lungs at you, using the absolute most vile words against you and Carmen just sees red, especially if whoever it is ups and yells something along the lines of “You stupid fucking whore-“ and Carmen’s just a blur as he POUNCES on this guy. (Richie’s either cheering him on or trying with all his strength to claw Carmen off before he straight up kills the guy)
Office Doors
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Oooh you guys are spoiling me rotten with these requests…I love a good feral fic every once in a while and this one was..well you'll know what i'm talking about once you've read it ;) I haven't written Carmen in a day and I miss him already, school has been up my ass so if you have sent me a request, don't worry it's being written, and re-written and-. Thank you anon for getting my gears going and your lovely messages 🥰🥺 ur support means the world
warnings: swearing, objectification and misogyny, angst, oral (f recieving), smut, thigh riding (?), porn with plot, feral!carmen
carmen berzatto x reader!
(This is totally and completely canon btw)
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You stretch your body across the diner tables, dipping a dirty cloth into lukewarm soapy water before rinsing it out. The lunch rush had just slowed to a even pace, the sound of Carmen yelling out dishes from his line finally quieting down.
You have just a little time to spare, and you spent that time quickly wiping down the Beef’s tables that had begun to accumulate a few too many stains and unfinished crumbs of bread.
You had grown up in a home that was always messy, all the time. And no matter how much times you had asked, and no matter how much times you had just done the chores themselves, the clutter of dirty dishes and old wet clothes in the laundry had permanently been embedded into your family home.
It’s partially why you had loved the sterile laboratory of you culinary kitchens. Clutter caused your skin to itch with anxiety, it made you feel dirty, and with the way you scrub the diner tables a little too hard you wonder if it's another one of the many joy’s your family had given you.
And whilst the Beef was so different from your environment back in culinary school, it wasn’t necessarily worse. In fact, you had grown to fall in love with the quirks of the kitchen, the ‘fuck you carmen’ napkin holder, the too small walkway, the framed pictures of beloved regulars and the staff’s families. Most of all, however, was the family you had built here, the kind you couldn't find working under a domineering CDC.
The kind that had always been waiting for you, been planted deep into the earth like roots.
Besides, you and Carmen had bonded together during the late nights after most of the family had gone home. Were you both were left, scrubbing the floor together in a rhythmic silence that seemed to be more therapeutic than work.
You’ve nearly finished wiping down the last of the stools perched against the counter top of the front when a loud guffawing causes you to break your trance-like state.
Jovial yelling breaks into the rarely quiet restaurant as the door swings open, and a stream of rowdy men dressed in pullovers and fleece jackets, with scarves and basketball hats of distinct sport team colours wrapped around their necks.
One man is fully decked out, sporting the jersey and beanie of what seemed to be a hockey team. The boom of his voice indicates he was the loudest too, unaware of the grumble of patrons around the restaurant that had grown annoyed at the man's violent rambling.
You breath out a sigh, finishing off wiping down the bar stools and putting the bucket of dirty water under the front counter. Before ironing out any creases in your apron and preparing yourself for the absolute headache this would cause.
They were a familiar bunch, usually coming in after games late after the dinner rush. It seemed there was a game during the early morning, as they grumble about not having anything to eat the entire day.
Their loud and annoying and swear too much and Carmen hates the way one of them looks at you but they order a shit ton of food and fuck if the bear needs money, what can you say.
Your eyes glance at a cup of coffee Richie had accidently left under the register, and you suddenly crave your afternoon pick me up well after the afternoon. The men begin walking up to the register, ignoring your polite greeting and going straight into listing off items from the menu as if you were a machine. You nod along all the words they were saying, and soon enough you give up on writing it down as they’ve practically ordered the entire menu safe for a few appetiser's. 
“Make it quick, yeah? We’re bloody starving '' One of the men calls out from his seated position in one of the booths and you give them a tight lipped smile, resisting the urge to throw that coffee mug at him. 
Carmen peeks his head from the entryway leading to the kitchen, his unruly ashy blonde curls falling to the sides as he shares a look with you,  as if to say ‘you alright? And you nod in that unspoken way the two of you have and tell him that you can handle it. Working in a kitchen didn't have to teach you how to deal with assholes, you had your family to thank for that one again.
You hear the familiar sound of Carmen shouting out orders, and the sizzle of pans and boiling pots increase in order to push out the lengthy order before more foot traffic would pour in. 
You’re trying to fix the register when it happens, something gets caught in the old janky machine, causing the cash drawer to get stuck as you have to hit its sides at a certain angle to get it to open up again. Years and Carmen refuses to get it fixed, or buy a new one all together, resorting to having it taped up and banged every couple hours to get it working again.
You almost don’t see him, until he is leaning against the counter, into the space between the cash register and you, a greasy smile pulling at his features and he watches you. You bite back a grimace at the way his eyes trail down your apron, fixated on the dip of skin that peeks from the top of your shirt.
“Something you need Sir?” You ask politely, taking a tentative step back, your hand gripping the edge of the counter.
The man smiles strangely at your comment, cocking his head to the side before replying suggestively
“I definitely want something”
You cough, biting back your knee-jerk response to hurl at him, you can feel the burn of embarrassment against your cheeks and you swallow as you try to reply with a steady response.
“You’re food will be out in a short-while-” 
“You know, I think I’ve seen you around here, are you new to town?” The man tries to strike up a conversation
“Came here a few years ago and haven’t left since” You reply with a tight smile
“Ah! I know where you're from exactly now” The man replies with a grin that pulls his face upwards, it's eerie, his smile, like he knows something he shouldn't.
“There’s this porn star online, looks exactly like you, it’s kind of insane” The man replies with a smile that deepens as you stammer
You feel humiliated as you stare back at him, you don’t know what to say, and his eyes continue trailing down your body in a way that makes you feel disgustingly objectified. He’s reduced you to an object for him to gawk at, and you see the way the men behind him jeer and laugh that this is all a play to intimidate you.
You want to run straight home and scrub yourself clean, wash away the feeling of his imprinted gaze down the drain.
“You think we can recreate one of her videos when you get off work here?” The man replies, a glint in his eyes.
“What? You- you” You stammer and he breaks out into a laugh
“Awh, look at her, fucking shaking. Don’t tell me this is your first time?” The man eggs on to his friends, who have begun laughing and cheering him on.
You grit your teeth, trying to get the words out as you glance towards the kitchen, where was he? He leg twitches in want, wanting to get Carmen, wanting to run from the restaurants, wanting to run from the embarrassment and disgust you felt.
The flashes of Richie and Syd passing by is all you can see, the booming voice of Carmen being too wrapped up in the orders to notice what was happening.
“C'mon, just give me your number” The man presses on, leaning in so that only you can hear “It isn't like I don't know where you work” Before he leans back, muttering a halfhearted kidding under his breath
“You are disgusting” You spit out, trying to sound as confident as you can, and the mans eyebrow twitches, and he cocks his head like he was confused.
“What? I’m doing you a favour here, I'm actually a nice guy you know? Not one of those assholes on the street” The man scoffs, moving closer towards you and you have a feeling the man is waiting for a reason to lunge at you.
“Just, just take your food and your buddies and go alright? There doesn’t have to be a fight or-or” You continue, trying to de-escalate the situation and get him to just leave you the fuck alone.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m doing you a fucking favour and now your kicking me out?” The man begins to get heated, and his friends behind him watch on in silence, you can notice other customers begin to look your way, sensing the rising anger filling the room. You slowly step back, looking for something to shield yourself in case he comes at you.
“What, you think because you work you have some- some what, control? I don't think you know how this works doll, you give me your number, and I dump my load in you because your nothing but a stupid fucking whore” The man bellow, it’s so loud that it echoes through the Beef, that it reaches even the kitchen sinks where Manny is washing up. 
The man’s face grows red as the veins near his neck begin to pop out, he emphasises the last word, spitting it out like that was all you were.
The restaurant goes silent as the man heaves in exertion, the sound of Carmen shooting out orders is mute now, the slice of steel against bamboo stops, and the bear is fucking quite for the first time since it opened. 
Your body is pushed against the wall, near the swinging doors into the Kitchen, and you can see Carmen back to you, he has stopped cutting at his station, and the outline of muscle contracts under his white shirt.
Carmen turns, slowly, he turns to the family, as they all momentarily stop their tasks in shock at what they had just heard. He begins to chuckle a little to himself, as he replies in a quiet voice you and the man can still hear.
“What did he just say?” 
“Did he really say that? Did he really?” Carmen laughs to himself, nodding and gripping his hands into tight fists as the restaurant air gets thin. The man who had been screaming at you looks towards Carmen in confused fear, not knowing why this man was laughing and yet understanding he had completely fucked up.
The rest of the patrons can hear Carmen’s words, eyes widening, as they realise they were about to be collateral to a very one sided beat down. The crew looked at Carmen in silence, they had been used to Carmen's hot-headed temper, his bursts of anger that was more passion than rage. But this? This quiet silence of Carmen’s words, the way his chest heaves as you glances at your frightened position against the wall? They genuinely feared what he would do next, a silent rage like no other begins to envelop the restaurant, the air thin and suffocating as Carmen begins to walk through the kitchen and into the front counter.
“Don’t call an ambulance this time” Carmen mutters to Richie as he passes him by, Carmen’s eyes are fixed on you, trailing down your body before fixating on the shake of your hands. Carmen knows you well, and it’s the clench of your throat, like you're suffocating, like you can’t breath that snaps something in Carmen.
A malevolence Carmen has never felt spills into his gut, the burn of anger spreading against his chest until hes practically shaking with it, he is filled with this heart ache, like his heart is split in two and gushing as he realises his been cutting fucking chives whilst you nearly died. 
And something predatory fills Carmen, like he must prove to himself he can protect you, and in one swift move, like muscle memory etched into his bones, Carmen jumps over the front counter and swings his fist in one clean motion, knocking the man across the room.
The man’s body crumbles as he slams into the hardwood floor of the Beef, the immediate groan of twisted pain and pleads leave the man's mouth and Carmen is just so sick of his goddamn voice. 
It all went quiet then, the noise of Sydney yelling, of his friends, of the man’s heaving wet coughs, the air conditioner, all white noise. Carmen’s hand reaches for his ankle, dragging him back from his crawling escape.
“Oh, no no no, we’re not escaping now are we?” Carmen grunts, his voice lower than it usually is.
Carmen  wraps an arm around his throat, holding him there as he brings down his fist across his face. The wet sound of bones crunching into muscle and skin go on forever, bouncing across the room until the throaty heave of the man is all that is left of him. Carmen cannot stop the swing of his fists, something possesses him and as one of the men in hockey colours tries to grab Carmen arm he throws him back into the stack of barstool's piled near the tables. He is facing his back to you again, and you state, fixated on how his body moves to support him, the contracts and outline of his strong back, his large forearms that break bone with a mere swing.
His face swollen beyond recognition, piss and blood leaking from him, eyes bloodshot and awry. 
Carmen picks him up by his collar, the smudge of blood dripping down and staining his vest, whispering into his ear as the man’s eyes widen in harrowed fear.
“Apologise”
“..Whatnhn?” The man mumbles, the feel of his tongue swelling up and going numb, Carmen presses a hand against the man's bruised stomach, pushing  against the broken bone of his ribs until the Man wails in agony. 
“Apologise to her or I swear to god I’m breaking your fucking legs” 
The man spits out an apology, but you’re not looking at him, staring transfixed at Carmen,  at the way he’s golden curls fall across his eyebrows, at the way his muscles flex against his white shirt, at the way droplets of blood are splattered across the skin of his jaw. Carmen looks towards you, and something dark takes over his cerulean blues, blowing them out.
“Do you accept? Huh honey?”
You nod, letting an exhale out and Carmen tosses the man to a pile on the floor, reaching for your hand and dragging you to the office, you can hear the scatter of shoes as the men drag their friend out of the beef, and the crew looks towards each other in satisfaction, but also in knowing, in knowing they wouldn't dare open those office doors.
The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.
The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.
“You didn't- didn’t have to” You mumble, your voice caught in your throat for a different reason.
Carmen looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement
“Don’t lie to me, you enjoyed that more than I did” Carmen whispers, leaning down near your ear, pressing his nose against the curve of your neck.
You let out a breathless sigh, and Carmen groans as he smells that familiar  vanilla always hinted on your skin Carmen could smell when you passed by you. Now, now, he can practically taste it right on his tongue.
The truth was, you did enjoy it, despite being non confrontational and cringing every time Richie would show you a fight where the crunch of bone on gravel makes you shudder, you were transfixed by Carmen. 
By the way he broke the man to a heaving mess with just his fuckinf fists, those same arms that are edging closer and closer to you, how would they feel between your thighs? The thought wraps itself tight in your belly, and you have to squeeze your thighs for friction.
No one had done that to you, no one had done that for you, and in a strange way it felt nice to be protected. To be wanted, and it causes a need to start building deep within you. 
Carmen's eyes fall to you, and his eyebrow twitches as a look of guilt washes over his features.
“I should’ve been there, I- fuck, did he do anything? Let me get a look at you” Carmen replies softly, grabbing your wrists to look for any bruises he feared you had.
“I’m fine, just a little, uhm, shaken up you know? Said some pretty horrible things” You reply, scratching at your neck as your mind replays the way he had reduced you to a thing.
Carmen shakes his head, his teeth grinding as he grips his fists, his biceps flexing. 
“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, deal with people like fucking him, I swear to god if I find him on the street I’m gonna-“
“Gonna what? Finish off the job? There is always going to be guys like him, that isn’t going to change, and it’s something I have to deal with. But what I can’t deal with is if you get yourself thrown into a jail cell because of-of me” You reply, shaking your head and Carmen looks at you like he’s in love.
Gripping a hand to your chin, Carmen raises it so that you catch the burn of his cerulean blues as you can see.
“And That would be an honourable death for me” Carmen mutters, and you can’t take your eyes off him, until you're gripping his blood stain shirt tight against your chest until the suppression groans leaving his mouth are kissed into your neck.
You want him, want to taste him on your tongue, want to feel his weight against it. 
“Fuckin come here” Carmen groans out, reaching to wrap his hand around your jaw as he presses his lips against your own. The muffled of your moans escape your lips and Carmen slips his tongue between them. 
His pillowy soft lips wrap around your own, his nose bumping into your cheek as he wraps an arm around your back, pushing you against the office doors. It’s all teeth and tongue, the clash of teeth and muffled groans leaving the both of you. 
The suppression of both your desires falling between you two until you don’t stop to come up for air. 
It’s addicting the way he kisses you, and you have to grip his shoulder as an anchor as he begins to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin there before dipping down to your clavicle. 
You let out a moan as he blows cold air against the dip of your breasts, and Carmen looks down at you, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you shiver, waiting for him to give you what you want.
Carmen rips open your shirt, his eyes trailing across the curve and dip of your breasts, he mutters something under his breath, something like “beautiful” as his finger trailing the lace before unclipping it and tossing it behind him. 
Carmen cups one of your breasts, circling your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, you arch your back to him, and he follows it until he rests and your hip, squeezing the skin there as his eyes roll back at the taste of you.
“Please..” You groan out, your eyes watching the way Carmen pressing soft circles into your skin, he looks up at you in confusion, the hint of a smile curving at his lips.
“Please what?” Carmen replies, sucking bruises beneath your tits, drawing it out on purpose, having too much fun watching you suffer.
“Nmfha” You mumble incoherently when Carmen flicks his tongue around your nipple, whilst squeezing the other in his cold hands.
“I can’t hear you, what do you want?” Carmen replies with a hint of a moan, he’s having trouble himself, bucking his hips up into you as he watches the way you shake from his lips
“Wanna feel you Carm, wanna taste you” You groan out with a moan, Carmen grunts at your response, his eyes growing dark and heavy, and in one swift move, he hoist you up and swipes the coffee mugs and papers left scattered across his desk before placing you on the edge.
You spread your thighs, making room for him and he steps between them. 
“You wanna feel me sweet girl? You want me to take care of you? Please let me take care of you” Carmen pleads, rutting up against you as he tries to suppress the want pressing tight against his jeans.
“Carm” you groan out as Carmen tugs your jeans down leaving you in your lace underwear that Carmen grinds his jaw at, you don’t realise it but Carmen blue apron is discarded somewhere in the room, and as he carries you towards the coach you tug at his white shirt. 
He rips it off him in one move, and you drag your fingers across the deep of defined muscle that flexes under your touch.
Carmen moves your thighs so that you're pushed towards the edge of the couch, and he kneels between you, pressing a soft kiss to your knee, before trailing up your thighs. Carmen had been teasing you before but now there is a frantic eagerness in the way he touches you, like if he doesn’t taste you on his tongue he might combust.
Carmen hooks a finger into your underwear,pulling them down until you were bare for him. Carmen’s eyes glisten as he states at you, naked under him and sweating. God the image imprints in his mind and he wishes he can stay here forever.
Carmen presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, and your thighs shake in need, Carmen flicks his eyes up to you, and keeps eye contact, as he licks one long strip across your folds, closing his eyes and he groans at the taste of you. You contort you back at the pleasure the waves through you, eyes rolling back at the pressure of his tongue sucking your clit.
“Fucking- taste so” Carmen mumbles, before dipping his tongue between your folds, dragging it up and down, the sound of your heightened moans ripping through him. 
Dipping his tongue in your hole, Carmen pushes a finger between your thighs, presses soft circles around your clit as his tongue works your folds. Your thighs shake around the curls of his head and he pushes a hand down at your stomach to stop you from moving, making you take every wave of pleasure he pulls from you.
“Carm, please, they’re going to hear us” You groan out, and Carmen shakes his head, causing his tongue to drive deeper into you, before looking up at you, 
“Let them” 
Carmen stretches you out with his tongue, pushing it into you and out until your heaving, his thumb is pressed against your clit, and he pushes a finger into you before sucking onto your bud. 
You begin to see flashes of stars, as he thrusts a finger into your hole whilst sucking you, he scissors you open, curving his finger in a way that hits a particular spot that has you raising your hips, trying to pull yourself off of him, the white hot burn of pleasure getting too much.
“There baby? Right there?” Carmen groans out, thrusting his finger to hit that spot over and over
Carmen grips your hips, pushing you down, deeper, harder onto his mouth and fingers, pressing a second digit into you as he curves it to pull that sweet moan from your lips.
Carmen had many names, but his favourite was the broken syllabus of his own between your lips when you fell apart on his tongue.
“S’ close, so close Carmy, please” You babble out, before resigning yourself to the burn of pleasure the feels like fucking nirvana, it’s all around you, Carmen, this pleasure, it’s all you can taste.
“I know baby, I know, I’m going to take care of you okay, sweet girl?” Carmen groans, thrusting his hips into the floor, searching for friction as he watches the way your eyes roll back.
Carmen laps at your core, pushing the digits deeper, curving them upwards until you were screaming, he pushes your face down to look at him, he wants to see your face as you fall apart, and the coil that has begun to wrap itself tight snaps when he nibbles at your over sensitive clit and you see the way his dark eyes watch you, his eyebrows furrowed and your slick coats his chin.
You can’t feel anything but the white hot pleasure that rocks through you, you aren’t in your body, floating away in the pure saccharine pleasure of Carmen’s tongue and he laps at the pleasure dripping between your folds. 
You mumble incoherent words, the only thing leaving your lips is Carmen’s name as you babble, spit dripping from your open mouth as you're left in a heap, Carmen leaving you dumb.
Carmen works you through your release, licking and sucking at your sweet slick that he gathers on his tongue. You see the way he thrusts into the carpet, trying to find friction as the scene in front of him becomes too much.
The thought splits something within you, seeing how Carmen got off to getting you off was out of this world, causing the pleasure to start building in your core again. 
You drag Carmen up to meet your lips, and then push his tongue between your lips, causing you to taste him on your tongue. Carmen pushes his finger between his lips, sucking on the shine of slick coated there, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you grind your hips against him. 
He pushes his digits into your mouth, groaning at the way you suck on them eagerly. You push him to lean his back against the coach, before manoeuvring your hips to straddle him.
You rock your hips against his jeans, feeling the way the indent pushes and bumps against your core, Carmen throws his head back, his curls falling over his forehead and he grabs your hips, pushing you deeper, down down down until he is thrusting up into you.
You grip his shoulders raising your hips before pulling his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion. Carmen forces himself to look down at you, his gaze watching the way you tug at his length, swiping a thumb across the red tip, dragging pre cum down the thick girth of him.
Carmen groans out, gripping your hips tight, and you raise up, lining yourself perfectly before sinking down on him.
Carmen’s groans are beautiful, rumbling from his chests as he squeezes his eyes shut, you fit so perfectly around him, the heat and warmth and slick of you wrapped tight around his cock. His length is thick and girth, and you have to adjust to his size, moaning at the way he fills you up just right.
As you begin to move, Carmen presses a hand, begging for you to wait
“Just, one second, fuck you feel so good I might cum from one thrust” 
“Who says this is a one time thing?” You reply with a wicked smile, and Carmen groans loud at that.
You raise your hips, dragging your self on him before sliding down, your grind against him and he heaves in the pleasure of your tightness around him. 
It had been so long, and the feeling of you is almost too much. 
You struggle to raise your hips high enough, and Carmen wraps his hands tight around your hips before raising you himself, driving himself up into you and thrusting hard.
This new angle allows him to go deeper, and you meet his upward thrusts, groaning out as he fucks you dumb. You look gorgeous above him, the way your tits bounce with every thrust up has him hard all over again.
“Just like that baby girl, keep going, doing so fucking well, my baby” Carmen groans out, and you begin to shake at the combination of his praise the the feeling of his cock driving into you impossibly deep.
You want to make him feel good and you say this to him, causing his eyes to roll back when you squeeze yourself around him, hard, until his thrusts have to drive into you even harder.
The coach freaks loudly from Carmen’s pace, and he slams you down, positioning his cock deep into you, causing you to press half circles into your shoulder, scratching at his biceps and gripping the nape of his hair that causes him to rumble out your moaned name.
You can feel him getting close, his thrust growing sloppy and deep, you tighten around him, and his eyes are in a trance, watching the way you fit around him so perfectly.
Carmen moves to fold himself upright against you, and your eyes roll back to your head as you feel yourself climb up a familiar peak.
Carmen presses a hard kiss against your lips as you groan out, and as he slips a hand into your conjoined bodies, circling your clit you have to shove your fist into your hand to stop from screaming.
The feel of Carmen’s length driving into you and the sound of his ragged moans, mixed with the over stimulation against your clit, you can’t help but fall apart around his cock.
You squeeze yourself tight around Carmen, and he cries out, his thrusts growing slow as he joins you over the cliff, his cock thrusting up into you with spasms. His cheeks are a blush red, his tongue poking out as he follows both of your orgasms.
You fall against his chest, exhausted, pressing your cheek so that it rested against the hard muscle of his pecs. You swallow back a breath, gripping your hand around Carmen’s, as he brings it up to place a soft kiss. 
Your thighs are still shaking from stimulation, and Carmen caresses a hand across them, rubbing soft circles and you lay across his chest.
You stay like this for a moment, basking in the bliss of pleasure and sex and the soft curves and dips of your bodies.
After a bit, Carmen has to slip his out cock from your thighs, eyes fixated on the way your ecstasy mixed with his one drips down your thighs.
“Fucking gorgeous” Carmen replies, and you look up at him in surprise
“What? You don’t think I'll find you gorgeous after this?” Carmen smiles down at your flustered state, he brushes back the sweat and tears dripping down your cheeks.
“That was..you are. Well fuck, Carmen, why didn’t this happen sooner?” You reply, he manoeuvres you so that your legs lay across his thighs.
“Yeah, uh, we’ll I’ve got a whole bucket of shit you don’t want dragging you down” Carmen replies scratching his neck, suddenly more shy as he lay his heart bare to you.
“Yeah, we’ll you gave me no choice when you practically murdered that man” You reply, biting back a smile, as you press soft circles around his thumb.
“Should’ve fucking murdered him…”
“What happens now?” Carmen replies, looking at you nervous that this was you just scratching an itch, because he was head over heels in love with you and he would never recover
“God Carmen, you didn’t realise I’m in love with you already?” You reply with a smile, “Practically the entire restaurant does” 
Carmen looks up at you in wonder, his eyebrows furrowing as your words hit him hard. You loved him? You loved him. He wants you to repeat it a hundred times, he wants to hear your tongue say those words to him again.
“You are incomparable” Carmen mutters under his breath, before wrapping you tight against his chest, pressing a kiss that feels different now, less crazed and rushed and fueled by heated passion. It was new, it felt like a start of something.
“You think they’re okay out there?” You reply with a start.
“Hell no” Carmen replies, and you can’t help but laugh as you push your head through a shirt Carmen had passed to you.
You and Carm may have just confessed your love to one another, but you still had a goddamn restaurant to run.
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yeonzzzn · 8 days
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🍀no limits: park jongseong
spin-off of the off limits trilogy
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pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 17.5k
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synopsis: jay was finally able to open up his restaurant and it being more successful than he could have hoped. You decided to try the new restaurant everyone kept talking about, falling in love with it immediately and even crushing on its owner. You become a regular and get to know jay quickly. as jay becomes bold and finally asks you on a date and brings you back home with him, he fails to tell you he shares the space with his sister, three best friends and his five month old niece…
genre: strangers to lovers, uncle!jay, smut
warnings: swearing, alcohol, overprotective jay, multiple unprotective sex scenes, dom!jay, breeding kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral (m. + f. receiving), cum eating, hair pulling, aftercare, semi public sex in a dark corner of a club, MINORS DNI, lemme know if i missed anything <3
✰ this is a spin-off to the main series, please read parts one-three before reading this one. they are tagged under the title ✰
•·.·'spin off spotify playlist'·.·•
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Jay rubbed his hands together, “Okay everyone, are you ready?”
“Jesus man!” Heeseung snapped, using his hand to fan his face from the summer heat, “Just hurry up, it’s just us no need to be so nervous.”
“That’s what I am saying,” Sunghoon agrees, also fanning his face, “Too damn hot outside.”
Jay knew he had zero reason to be nervous, but how could he not? He was fixing to share one of his biggest achievements (besides ya know, graduating college with not just his computer science degree but also his culinary and business degrees) with his friends, his family, what is not scary about that?
“Jongseong, my sweet son,” his mother said, rocking his niece on her hips, “We are excited to share this moment with you, it’s all okay.”
Jay relaxed at his mother’s words until his sister opened her mouth.
“Jay, just hurry the hell up,” she rolled her eyes, “I am sweating. I can feel it rolling down my back.”
Jay narrowed his eyes at her, “Stinks, no one asked for that gross detail.”
Before she could say anymore, Jake wrapped his arms around her from behind, “Baby, he’s nervous let him take his time.”
Thank you, Jake, finally, someone gets it.
“Dad, want to help me with the sign?” Jay asked, finally deciding to get it over it.
He nodded, going to the other side of the door, holding the string that led to the banner that was covering up the sign to his restaurant, “On three?”
Jay nodded, his hands shaking as he held the other string, “One…”
“Two,” his father smiled.
“Three,” Jay said finally, both the strings being pulled and the banner falling to the ground.
His eyes quickly dart to his family and friends, their eyes widening and smiles growing wide.
His sister and Jake covered their mouths quickly, tears filling their eyes, “You named it Hwa Young…” his sister softly said.
Jay nodded, wiping his sweaty hands against his jeans, “Yeah, I named it after Hwa…” Jay’s voice trembled, “Was just going to name it Beautiful Little Flower, but thought her actual name would be more meaningful.”
Jay adored his niece just as much, or even a bit more, as he adored his little sister, the two of them being the most important women in his life along with his mother. Using his niece's name for his restaurant was too perfect to pass up.
“Brother,” Jake said, walking over to him, reaching his hand out for Jay to take it, and he did, “I can’t believe you did this man.”
Jay pulled his best friend into a hug, rocking each other back and forth, “It’s all for my family.”
Jay could finally say he’s gotten used to calling Jake his brother-in-law, even if he and his sister weren’t married yet, it kinda felt nice to call Jake his brother officially.
“Jongseong,” his sister cried, practically yanking her fiancé out of the way and hugging him herself, “I love you so much, big brother.”
Jay now felt his own tears swelling in his eyes, “I love you too, Stinks.”
One by one the rest of his family hugged him, giving him all the congrats he could ask for. Jay fully and truly felt the happiest in this moment.
Hwa cooed and reached her arms out for him.
Never mind, this was the happiest moment he could ever ask for.
Jay retrieved Hwa from his mother, hugging her tightly to his chest and planting kisses all over her face, causing her baby giggles to fill his ears.
“Show us inside now???” Sunghoon asked, anxiously waiting to see how it looked and honestly wanting to get out of the heat.
“What Sunghoon said!” Heeseung joined in, “Unlock the doors!”
He rolled his eyes, “God, you lot are so annoying.”
Jay took the keys from his pocket and officially opened the door for the first time since the restaurant was finished.
“I welcome you all,” Jay said with a smirk, his nerves finally disappearing, “To Hwa Young, the best cafe restaurant of food from all over the world all in one place.”
The smiles from his friends and family helped boost his ego, knowing damn well they already loved his cooking and knowing they were all fixing to love it even more.
You didn’t think the line to the new restaurant in town was going to be, quite literally, wrapped around the building. The whole parking lot was completely filled with everyone and their mommas here in line. 
You should have expected this though, the restaurant has only been open for about a month and the news on it has been crazy. It’s made almost every food article with five-star ratings. No wonder this place hasn’t slowed down at all. 
The line was slowly moving and you were so close to the door you could already taste the food you wanted to order. Shifting your weight back and forth on your feet you didn’t think your stomach would last much longer until a line of people left the restaurant doors, and the line you were in moved faster. 
Thank fucking christ. 
Soon enough you made it past the doors, the cool air condition sending shivers down your spine in pure bliss from getting out of the summer heat. You took the time to glance around the restaurant. It was a beautiful blue-green cafe-style feel with the fancy life of a normal restaurant. Whoever the owner is, he knows what he is doing. Making this place feel so warm and welcoming and at the same time is fancy and professional. He had big brains, for real. 
Your eyes now darted to each waiter and waitress, seeing a flash of long red hair shoot across from the kitchen to a table, tray of food in hand. Your best friend. 
Yunjin gave her customers big smiles and told them to enjoy their meal, her eyes lifting to see you and another big smile on her face, making her way towards you. 
“YNNIIEEE!!!” She set the empty tray on an empty table and quickly pulled you into a hug, “I am happy you finally made it here!!!” 
You hugged her back, squeezing her tightly and rocking her back and forth, “I waited in line for like an hour.” 
She quickly pulls back, folding her hands at your shoulders, “Really?!” 
You nod, giving a small smile. 
Yunjin quickly glances around the restaurant, “There aren’t any empty tables in my section,” she glances off to the right side of the building, “You’ll have to sit over there.” 
You pouted but accepted it anyway. You came here specifically to see your friend and to get served by her. Well, you wanted to see this place too. Yunjin has hyped up this restaurant and her boss for the entire time she’s worked here. Plus again this place has been given five-star reviews, probably ten if it were allowed. 
“There’s still plenty more time for me to come see you,” you comforted her, resting your hands now on her shoulders, “But I am starving sooooo.”
She giggles and leads you to the table, “You’ll be well taken care of here, I promise you.” She gave a wink before rushing back off to her section of the restaurant. 
You twisted your fingers in your hands, glancing between every other waiter and waitress, curious as to who would be the one to serve you. 
Yunjin quickly made her way to the kitchen, double-checking the tickets on the rack and glancing at the trays of food. Her eyes glanced up to finally find who she originally came back here to look for. 
“Jay!” 
Jay kept his eyes locked on the order slip in his right hand, glancing back and forth between the tray in his hand and the piece of paper to make sure everything was there, “What’s up?” he finally answered her. 
Yunjin slides to his side, glancing up at him with a smile, “My best friend is here, the one I’ve told you about?” 
Jay starts walking away, “Congratulations. Let me know how she likes it here, and have her give us a review.” 
Yunjin pouted but followed quickly after him, “She’s not in my section.” 
Jay set the tray down on the counter, placing a few utensils onto the plates and double-checking once again that everything was in order, “Take her order anyway.” 
Before Jay could pick up the tray again, Yunjin was slipping it into her hands, Jay glared at her, “She’s in your section. I want her to get the best experience here. You’re as best as it will get.” 
Jay already had other customers to make sure and keep up with, along with keeping up with the kitchen and all his employees. Plus Yunjin was more than capable of bouncing back and forth between sections. Yet Yunjin winked at him and ran out with his tray. 
Jay followed quickly behind her, “Give it back.” 
“Nope,” she sang, pointing a finger across the restaurant, “She’s right there. Show her how good this place is.” 
Jay rolled his eyes and pulled his notepad, silently cursing to himself that he needed to invest in tablets to take orders, “Maybe I need to offer her your job too while I am at it.” 
Yunjin gave him a wink, “No you won’t,” and she walked away. 
Jay sighs, walking over to the table Yunjin pointed at. Reaching his hand into his pocket to pull out his pen and write down the table number. Putting on his boss/customer service mask. 
“Hello! Welcome to Hwa Young, I’m…” 
Jay lost every ounce of thought process when you looked up at him. Your beautiful eye color shines so brightly under the sunlight coming in from the windows. Your smile sends him into cardiac arrest. He just stares at you, taking in every inch of your beauty. You’re friends with Yunjin? This beautiful human being sitting in front of him was friends with his Yunjin? 
You stared back at him, taking in his pretty brown eyes and the way his blonde hair was slicked back, the dark of his natural hair slowly peeking through his skin. Small strands of his hair fell into his face, complimenting his tan skin even more. 
Jay blinked a couple of times, and looked down at his notepad, “Welcome to Hwa Young, I am Jay, the owner of this restaurant and I’ll be taking care of you today.” 
The…OWNER?!? Yunjin put you in the owner's section?!?! You already knew your face was blushing at the beautiful man before you. Already knew your best friend was standing off into the distance with a smirk on her face. 
You kept repeating to yourself to look away from him, to look back at the menu and tell him what you wanted. But you couldn’t look away from him, just like he kept staring back at you. 
Jay didn’t know what came over him and why he was so speechless. He’s been with pretty girls before, slept with plenty of them, and has served just as many in his restaurant. But what’s so different about you? Everything was telling him to sit across from you in this booth. But he had a job to do, and other tables to take care of. 
He blinked a couple of times and shook himself out of his daze, “New here?” 
His words brought you back to reality, forcing you to finally look at the menu, “Yes, first time actually. My best friend works here.” 
“Yunjin? Yeah, she told me you were here. She talks about you a lot actually.” 
You looked back at him for a split second and then whipped your head around to find your friend, seeing her peeking her head around the corner of the kitchen door, “Sounds like something she’d do.” 
Jay chuckles, his nerves finally settling down, “It is. She’s great though. Very hard working and one of the best waitresses I have.” 
You smiled at him at the praises he gave your best friend, feeling more relaxed, “Okay Mr. Bossman,” you teased, “What is the best thing here?” 
Jay smiles, “Everything,” you roll your eyes at his cockiness, but know he fully means it. The man was running a five-star restaurant that was a month old. He knows what he’s doing, “How about I surprise you with something?” He asked, leaning his hands on the table, “Sound good?” 
You nodded, but then quickly shook your head, “How much will it be?” You completely forget you paid your rent this morning, coming here with a mission to try the cheapest thing. 
But Jay just kept his smile wide, “It’ll be on the house. Can’t have a pretty girl who is best friends with Yunjin pay for her first visit, can we?” He gave you a wink, “Don’t worry about a thing, YN,” and he slowly backed away, keeping his eyes on you until he turned around and walked to the kitchen. The flash of red hair ran in after him. 
It surprised you that he knew your name, but then you remembered Yunjin ran her mouth about you. Making you now wonder what all Jay knew about you. 
Once Jay was in the safe space of the kitchen, he leaned onto the countertop, placing his hand on his chest and pulling the fabric of his black dress shirt between his fingers. 
“Sooooo,” Yunjin sang standing in front of him and tilting her head, “How did it go?”
Jay gave her a death glare, “What are you pulling here?” 
Yunjin gave him a look of confusion, holding her hands up, “Me? Planning something?” 
Jay hardened his glare. 
Yunjin sighs, resting her arms back down to her side, “I really am not planning anything. I just want my friend to have a good experience here.” Jay stared at her more, “Okay!! Fine! I was totally hoping you’d fall head over heels for her and take her out.”
Jay stood up straight, “I am firing you,” he said to her and  walked over to the cook, quickly writing down a meal he’s praying you’ll love and hooking it into the rack, “This needs to go out ASAP.” The cook nods, giving him a “You got it boss.” and a smile. 
“You won’t fire me,” Yunjin challenges, “But come on, I saw the way you looked at her.” 
“I don’t know her,” Jay retorted, walking to the back office and dropping into his chair, sliding his hand through his hair. 
“Then get to know her.” 
“You’re still following me? Get back to work.” 
“Jay,” she said leaning her elbows on his desk, “If you don’t take her out, I’ll ask Wonbin to take her out.” 
Jay rolls his eyes, “Wonbin?” 
She shrugs, “He’s been talking about wanting a girlfriend for a while, might as well. Or I could always ask one of your friends the next time I see them here.” 
“No!” The way Jay was so quick to reject the idea of one of his friends taking you out made Yunjin smile even more, “No, to it all. If something is going to happen, it’s going to be natural, stop playing matchmaker. Get back to work.”
She frowned, but nodded anyway, walking away, “She’s a beautiful woman, better take your shot before someone else notices.” 
Jay rubbed his temples. Oh how very aware he was of how beautiful you are. Knowing Yunjin was right. Jay made quick work of piling up your meal and dessert onto the tray and taking it out to you. 
Your smile at seeing the food made his heart sink. Sending his brain thinking about the way you’d smile at him for cooking for you, if it would be the smile you have now or even bigger, brighter. 
“Here we go,” he said, setting the grilled lemon chicken sandwich and chocolate cheesecake down in front of her, “This is my go-to meal,” he smiled, “I hope you enjoy it.” 
You try to not let your saliva spill out of your mouth at the food in front of you, “It looks fantastic.” 
Jay couldn’t help but continue to smile, pulling his notepad and pen out, “If you ever need anything,” he said tearing the paper from the pad and sliding it onto the table to you, “Or if you just want to talk or get VIP treatment here, give me a text or call.” 
You took the paper in your hands and stared at the number. You smiled at him, “I will. Also, tell Yunjin to mind her own business.” 
Jay laughed, “Trust me, I plan to.” 
You didn’t know what scared you more:
1: the amount of times you’ve shown up to the restaurant.  
or
2: the hours you’d spend sitting at the exact same booth every time talking to Jay in between him having customers. 
or
3: the amount of free food you’ve gotten. 
Probably the third option if you had to be honest. You’ve become a regular here at Hwa Young, slowly working your way through the menu of fine dishes and bakery items. Loved every single thing Jay has put in front of you and never once made you pay a single dime of your money. You’ve tried to pay every time but Jay always refused, “Can’t make a pretty girl pay, plus a friend of Yunjin is a friend of mine,” he would always say. 
But who were you to complain? Free food always tastes better anyway. 
You’ve been coming and going as you please to Hwa Young for about a month now. Slowly learning the names and faces of the other workers and even the other regulars. The restaurant finally slowed down as well, being only busy during peak hours. 
During that month, you and Jay got closer. You learned his favorite colors, how he loves playing the guitar, and even sang a bit too. Learned where he found his love of cooking and wanted to share that with the world. How he triple majored in computer sciences and business with his culinary degrees. The man was SMART. He told you how he worked on the side with his best friend at a software developing company when he wasn’t running the restaurant, to use his computer sciences degree. You learned all the little things about him that made up who he was, and you loved every moment of it. The small attraction grows into true genuine feelings. 
You realized you felt more than just the attraction while texting him one night. You were struggling with some family problems of your own, asking if you could rant to him. He called you not even a second later. 
“YN, what’s up? Talk to me.” 
You ranted to him without a second thought, feeling so at ease and comfortable with him. Telling him the high expectations they’ve set for you. How they hate that you’re a florist and want to own your own flower and garden shop one day. How they want you to return back to college and be a lawyer, to follow in your father's footsteps as one since you were the only child and don't have that older or younger sibling to take up that mantle for you. You expressed to him how much you hated it, how you sometimes felt you would have no choice but to give in to them. 
“YN, don’t feed into that bullshit!” Jay snapped over the phone call, and the sound of wind blew through the speaker, telling you he was outside, “You are your own person, if owning a flower and garden shop is what makes you happy, then by all means, please do that.” 
Those words, those exact words made your heart flutter and you knew that your feelings for this man were strong. 
Which is how you ended up at the restaurant the same days he was. Even if he was in the kitchen cooking that day, you still showed up. Sending Yunjin, Wonbin, Niki, or Danielle to let Jay know you were there, and one of them sending a plate of food out to you and him sending a text to enjoy your meal and he’d come out and see you soon.
Today was one of those days with him in the kitchen. Yunjin waved at you as you walked in and sat at your normal booth, waving back at her. Sweet Danielle also waved and mouthed she’d go get Jay for you. 
Jay flipped his baseball cap backward, using his forearm to wipe the sweat from his face and quickly rewashing his hands before jumping back to the grill. It was Friday night and customers would be piling in soon. He was on a mission to make sure everything went out on time and everything went smoothly tonight. Making sure all the kitchen staff had their heads screwed on tight and in order. 
Danielle skipped into the kitchen, leaning her elbows on the countertop, staring at Jay’s back, “YNNIE is here!” 
Danielle didn’t need Jay to turn around to know he was smiling wide, “Is she?” 
“Yes!” She sang with a tilt of her head, “I don’t know why you’re acting so surprised that she’s here, if you are she is too.” 
Jay finally turned around and indeed, had the biggest smile on his face, “I’m always surprised when she’s here.” 
Danielle raised a brow, “Oppa, just ask her out already.” 
Jay’s heart sank at the same moment Yunjin and Niki walked into the kitchen, hearing what Danielle said. 
“Yes hyung, I dunno if I can deal with both of your flirting anymore,” Niki said, making a face as if he was about to throw up, “It’s gross.”
Jay glared at him, “Then the next time I see you flirt with that pretty senior girl from your school I’ll tell her how badly you’ve been pinning.” 
Niki straightened up, narrowing his eyes to Jay, “You wouldn’t.” 
“Try me.” 
Niki smiles then, “Flirt all you want!” He pops a ticket to the rack and turns on his heels, “Just ask her out already.” 
Jay opened his mouth to fire out a retort, just for Yunjin to chime in, “You should though. It’s been a month.” 
Jay rolled his eyes, “Did anyone ask you?” 
Yunjin shrugs, “She’s my best friend, you wouldn’t know her if it weren’t for me.” 
Jay didn’t have anything to say to it. It was completely true. How could he fight her back on it? 
“Anyways!” Danielle said, “What are you making for her tonight?” 
Jay thought it over, “Probably something healthy tonight, gave her something really greasy the other day.” 
Yunjin scrunches her face, “Maybe bringing her was a bad idea.” 
Everything in Jay wanted to scream no, that it wasn’t a bad idea. But just glared at her and then at Danielle, “Are you two leaving Niki and Wonbin on the floor…alone?” 
The two girls quickly shot out of the kitchen, realizing leaving those two boys alone wasn’t a good idea. 
He quickly made the order on the ticket Niki dropped off and then made your dinner, carrying both plates out, stopping at Niki’s section first to drop off that order and then finding you in your normal spot. 
The restaurant was starting to fill up, he had to be quick. 
Jay set the plate in front of you and slid into the booth with you, forcing you to move over. 
“There’s another side of the booth, don’t you know?” you teased him, taking the sandwich he prepared for you into your hands, “You’d have more room.” 
Jay just shrugs and smiles at you, “Am I not allowed to sit beside you?” 
You take a bite of the sandwich, releasing a groan at the deliciousness of his cooking and swallowing the rest down with your water, “I mean, you can sit here if you’d want.” 
Jay rests his jaw on his hand, his heart doing flips at seeing how much you enjoyed him cooking for you. The happiness on your face every time you were here. The sound of your voice to further proves how happy you were being here and when on a call with him. It had him thinking maybe he should actually ask you out. Finally, take you on a date. To make you feel that happiness because of him completely, and not just by his cooking or talking with you over the phone. To actually spend time with you. 
“How much do I owe?” you asked, setting the half of the sandwich you had left onto the plate, “Isn’t it about time that I pay?”
Jay pretended to think about it, “Hmm,” he glanced up at the ceiling, then across the building, and finally back at you, giving you a smirk, “No.” 
You roll your eyes, “Come on, Jay. Stop giving me free meals.” 
He shook his head and stared into your eyes, wanting so badly to pull you to him and kiss you. But he’d hate for the first kiss to be in his restaurant with him covered and smelling of food grease and sweat. 
One of the cooks called for Jay from the kitchen. His eyebrow raised, “I know for a fact he didn’t just call for me across the restaurant as if I couldn’t fire him the moment I got back there.” 
You giggled, noticing a small strand of his dyed blonde hair fell out from the hole of his baseball cap. You reached up, twisting it around your finger then tucking it back into the cap. 
Jay’s heartbeat quickened, finding that one of the cutest things you’ve ever done so far. His employee's words rang through his head and before he knew it, his mouth was open and was saying, “Why don’t we go out tomorrow night?” 
Your face flushed, “L-like on a date?” 
He nodded, “Yeah, go out on a date with me, YN.” 
The two of you stared at each other, smiles so wide, and small laughter escaped your lips as you nodded back to him, “Yeah, I would love that, actually.” 
Jay couldn’t hold back smiling wider as he stood up from the booth, “I’ll text you the details later tonight after we close. Text me your address.” He gave you a wink and walked away. 
“Hey!” you shouted at him, “How much is this food?!” 
“Free,” he said over his shoulder, passing by Yunjin on the way back to the kitchen, “Make sure she doesn’t pay.” 
Yunjin saluted him, her eyes now darting to you and wiggling her eyebrows. 
Guess she didn’t mind her business after all. 
Jay tried his damndest to not stare at the cleavage spilling out of your emerald green dress or notice how fucking sexy your thighs looked squished together at how you rubbed them together out of nervousness. Jay knew his body temperature was more than likely through the roof. If you’d taken a thermometer under his tongue it would break at how hot he felt at that moment. It took everything in him to not stare at you on the car ride here. He almost fell down the steps of your apartment complex when he saw you in that dress with your hair pulled into a cute ponytail. Jay never tripped up on his words (or even his own two feet) before. No female has ever had him at a loss for words, no female has had his heart beating so fast he was afraid it would burst from his chest. What were you doing to him? 
Your dress wasn’t even fancy fancy, just a pretty normal everyday summer dress that you fitted with a pair of white Converse that were scuffed up and a bit dirty, but you only dressed this way because you didn’t think Jay was bringing you to the fanciest restaurant you’ve ever seen. 
“Jay,” you bumped his shoulder with yours, taking him out of the thoughts of the multiple different ways he wanted to bend you over in that dress. He placed a hand on your back and looked down at you with a smile, “You sure this is okay?” you asked, eyeing the other couples and parties in the restaurant then looking down at your dress, “This plus must be expensive and I feel underdressed.” 
Jay wasn’t dressed too fancy either, just in a black button-up dress shirt with black slacks with his dress shoes. It wasn’t fancy like some of the other men in this restaurant, but who cares? You two fit the description the restaurant said on their website. Plus, Jay just so happens to know the owner of this restaurant, so he’ll raise all kinds of hell if you two get kicked out. 
“Don’t worry, YN,” he said, “You look sexy, don’t need to worry about your looks.” 
You wanted to glare at him but kept your face stern. He knew that wasn’t what you were worried about, “Jay.” 
Jay chuckles, pulling you closer to him and resting his hand on your waist. He had to admit, he loved being intimate with you like this. Another feeling he wasn’t used to having. You were fucking him up, that’s for sure. “You’ll come to learn there’s no limits when it comes to me,” he didn’t take his eyes off you, “Princess treatment only.” 
You had to look away, biting your lips to keep from smiling so wide. The way he said that made you think he intended to take you out again, on keeping you around. And by god, you hoped so. 
Jay hasn’t felt like this in such a long time. Maybe late high school years were the last time he felt like this about someone, to the point of feeling like his chest was going to cave in. 
“Jay Park,” the host called, signaling it was finally their turn to be seated. 
Jay gently pushed your bag with him to move forward, “That’s me,” he said, giving the host a smirk, “Could you also possibly send Mr. Kim out? I’d like to say hello.” 
The host raised a brow, “I’m sorry, who are you?” 
Before Jay could answer, a man who mirrored Jay’s outfit but with a white dress shirt, slightly rolled up his sleeves and gave a big smile, “He’s the owner of Hwa Young, who has had five stars consecutively since opening.” 
The host swallowed and looked down, “My apologies.” 
Jay disregarded him, walking over to the one who you were assuming was the owner of this place, “Kim Seokjin,” Jay said, shaking the man’s hand, “Pleasure seeing you again.” 
“Well, the pleasure is all mine!” Jin laughed, “Congratulations on your restaurant being a success, I’ll have to stop by soon again.” 
Jay nods, “I’ll cook an amazing steak for you.” 
Jin clapped his hands, “Please, I love your steak! I actually got excited to see your name on the waiting list for tonight, I hope you find my restaurant lovely.” 
Jay nods again, “I knew I had to come try it out finally.” 
Jin looks over at you, “And who might this be?” 
Jay smiles even more, pulling you closer but more in front of him, “This is YN, she’ll be joining me tonight.” 
“Ahh!” Jin takes your hand, giving it a soft squeeze, “I hope you find this place enjoyable too!” 
You shyly nod, “I bet I will.” 
A few shouts happen from the kitchen and Jin’s smile drops with a sigh, “Duty calls.” 
“I know how that is,” Jay said, shaking Jin’s hand once again, “See you later man.” 
Jin starts to walk off, “Of course! Also! Tell your sister I said hello!” 
And then he was off and out of sight. 
“Follow me to your table,” The host said, leading the two of you to a table and leaving you with the menus. 
“I didn’t know you had a sister,” You said, looking around the restaurant even more, feeling ten times worse about what the check would look like after the meal was over. 
“Uhh, yeah,” he says, looking over the menu. He realized he hadn’t mentioned his sister much, “She’s who my best friend is engaged to, sorry I never made that clear.” 
You washed over with embarrassment, remembering how he had told you about her and maybe you just didn’t put two and two together. “Don’t apologize,” you quickly said, sliding your leg to wrap around his under the table, “I remember you talking about her now.” 
Jay looks up at you, his heart doing flips at your smile. At the way your ponytail falls over your shoulder and how your breasts are just…out. 
He forced himself to look back at the menu, feeling his slacks tightening against him. 
You caught him multiple times throughout dinner staring at your chest. He shifts his legs away from yours only for you to chase after them. It made you feel good knowing he was looking at you like a dessert he couldn’t wait to devour. You weren’t the type of girl to go chasing after sex but with Jay? He was making you want to chase anything that had to do with him. You could tell by his eyes he wanted you to. 
So who were you to not take this opportunity to tease him?
You kept rubbing your legs against him, folding your arms in a way to push your breasts together or lift them up and Jay clocked each and every moment you started to make after that. Watching how you’d flip your hair off your shoulder to expose your neck more, how you’d run your fingers down your exposed arms slowly in a way of showing him how you’d touch him. 
It took Jay everything to get past this dinner, silently begging the waitress to hurry with the check so he could pay and bang you later. 
He followed behind you as you walked out of the restaurant, his eyes staring at how the dress hugged your waist, showing the outline of your hips and ass, how the ends of the dress blew in the wind and hit your thighs. He couldn’t handle it anymore. You teased him the entire night. And he wasn’t going to just let you off the hook. 
You barely made it to the car before his hands were on your hips and twirling you around, pinning your back against his car, “You think you can just tease me the whole night and walk away from it?” he whispers, pressing his hard length against your stomach, face inches from yours. 
This is what you wanted, but you still couldn't stop from acting surprised. You figured he would have at least waited to jump your bones when he dropped you off at your apartment. 
“Don’t look so surprised, baby,” he pressed his cock harder against you, “You started this.” 
So you just smile at him, “You kept staring,” you teased more, “How could I not get back at you when you have a staring problem?” 
Jay chuckles, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger, “You’re lucky I love them bratty,” he lifts your chin up inching his face closer to yours, his lips brushing yours, “I’d like to tame that bratty attitude of yours.” 
Your knees buckled, but with his weight on you, it stopped you from falling to the ground in front of him, “Then tame it,” you whispered. 
He didn’t waste another moment, pressing his lips so fiercely against yours, moving together in perfect rhythm. His fingers slid from your chin to your jaw, cupping your face as his thumb rubbed against your cheek. The hand at your waist snaked up to your breast, squeezing and loving the way the plush slid between his fingers. He moans against your mouth, pulling away and resting his forehead on yours, “I’d love to tame you in my bed,” he breathed, hand reaching for the car door handle, “Get in the car.” 
The drive to his apartment felt like it took forever when it was only a short ten minutes. His lips were back on yours before the door to his apartment even closed. His hands were already pulling down the straps of your dress as he slid out of his shoes and you kicked yours off, leaving them at the front door as he dragged you down the main entrance hall. He stopped to push you against the wall, sliding the top half of your dress down to your waist, revealing the matching emerald green lace bra. You giggled at the look of pure pleasure on his face as he bent down to kiss the tops of your breast, his thumb looping between the fabric of the other and grazing your nipple. You softly moaned at the touch, your thighs rubbing together. 
Jay removed himself from you, pulling the dress over your hips and down to the floor. Jay was in complete awe. You planned for this by the pure fact you were wearing a matching laced bra and underwear set. His cock twitched against his slacks. He didn’t want to wait anymore. He takes your hands and pulls you towards him, lips and tongue finding home in your mouth as he drags you further into the apartment, leaving your dress forgotten about at the entrance. 
Jay fumbled with the door handle to his bedroom, finally getting it open and dragging you in, closing and locking the door behind him. He pushed you onto his bed, loving the way you looked against his bedsheets. You too were growing impatient, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, dangling it in front of him before tossing it into the void of his room. 
“Fuck, baby,” he smirks, sliding his tongue against his cheek, his hand working on the buttons of his dress shirt, “So impatient for daddy’s cock?” You nodded, cupping your breasts and squeezing them, eyes pleading with him. His shirt hit the floor in the same motion of getting on his knees in front of you, taking your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed and his fingers digging into the laced fabric and pulling them down your legs. He hissed at how wet you were, seeing how it pooled from your heat, “So fucking wet, so fucking pretty,” he whispers, rubbing his knuckle against your clit. 
You arched your back at his touch, squeezing your breasts tighter, “Jay,” you moaned, “Please.” 
“Hmm, please what, princess?” 
“Do something…” you begged. 
He slid two fingers into your cunt, your back arching more and a gasp escaping your lips, “You sound so pretty,” he cooed, slowly pumping his fingers in and out, “Be a good girl for daddy and you’ll get what you want, okay?” you nodded, and his movements stopped, “Use your words.” 
“Yes,” you gasped, rocking your hips against his fingers to feel the friction. 
He completely pulls his fingers from your pussy, “Yes what?” 
“Yes, daddy,” you whimpered at the loss of his touch, “I’ll be a good girl.” 
Jay smirks, sliding his two fingers back inside, “Good girl.” Jay loved how submissive you were to him. How fast you folded under his touch. God, it was so fucking hot. Driving him crazy. He kept his eyes locked on the way his fingers slid in and out of you, the lewd, wet sounds your pussy made when he’d push them in, and how you were moaning for him? It was obvious no man has ever fucked you good. Hasn’t fucked you right. But Jay was fixing to change that. 
He latched his mouth to your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bud, pumping his fingers faster, curling them after finding your weak spot, and hitting it repeatedly. Making it his mission for you to cum on his tongue. You clenched around his fingers, and he chuckled, “Getting close, baby?” 
“Y-Yes, da-daddy,” you whimper, moving your hands down your body and tangling them in his blonde hair, “Please let me cum, daddy, I’ve been good.” 
Oh, fucking hell I am done for. 
Jay switched out his fingers for his tongue, working his thumb in fast circles at your clit. You pulled his hair, chanting out his name as his tongue pushed in and out of you, licking every inch of your heat until the knot snapped and you came on the muscle. Jay moans against your cunt, licking up every last drop of your cum, “Fuck you taste so good, baby.” 
You smiled between your pants, lifting yourself up on your elbows to look down at him, his hooded eyes were filled with so much lust, endearment, and happiness. He smiles as his eyes trace from your leaking cunt up to your face, his hands now unbuttoning his slacks and standing up, dropping both the slacks and his boxers down to the floor. Your mouth watered at the size of him, so wide and long, so gurthly. “I’m going to breed the fuck out of this cunt,” he smirks, pumping himself with his right hand as he crawls on the bed, forcing you to scoot up further onto the bed, “Be a good girl for daddy and spread those legs, ya?” 
You bit your lip and spread your legs as you were told, him crawling over you and lining his tip to your entrance, he gave you one final look, his eyes asking for permission. You nodded, “Please, fuck me daddy.” 
Jay chuckles and smirks at you again, slowly pushing himself into you, both of you releasing a gasp when he bottoms out, “You feel so good,” he groans, slowly sliding himself out, and quickly snapping back in. He didn’t wait to give you time to adjust to his size, he couldn’t wait. You feel too good and so tight around him. Squeezing his cock with such pleasure, how could he not move? Wanting nothing more than to split this cunt apart with his dick. 
Jay worked himself faster inside you, taking your hands and pinning them above your head, leaving kisses on your neck and trailing them up your jaw, nipping at the skin as he did so. You wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing them tightly, “F-feel s-so good d-daddy,” you moan, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to your neck. 
“Hmm, fucking you so good you can’t speak without a stutter?” he pumped himself faster, completely taking your hands in his, squeezing them tight, “Haven’t ever been fucked this good, have you?” 
You shake your head, “Only you.” 
“Fuck, yessssss,” he hisses, his hip bones knocking into yours, surely leaving bruises to appear in the morning. Jay lifts up, removing your legs from his waist and flipping you over, raising your hips up and shoving your face down into the pillows, “Fuck you look so pretty face down ass up for daddy,” he growls, digging his fingers into your waist as he fucked into you, wrapping his legs around yours to spread them out wider. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, not with how tightly your cunt squeezed around him, “Finna cum, baby,” he breathed, “Gonna fill this pretty cunt so full of my cum,” he flung his head back, “Wanna breed this pussy so fucking bad.” 
“Cum inside me,” you lifted up to look at him, seeing how fucked out his face was, how blown out his pupils were, his bottom lip swollen from how hard he must have been biting it to keep himself calm, “Breed me.” 
“Fuck,” he groans, “Baby don’t talk like that to me, you’re driving me crazy.” 
You pushed your ass up against him, wanting to feel him as deep inside you as possible, “Please.” 
He couldn’t hold out anymore, not with you begging for him to cum in you. He was folding. Jay's thrusts got sloppy, giving it a good two more pushes and he was spilling into you. His hips smacked to your ass, trying to break the barrier of keeping him from completely tearing your pussy apart as he came deep. It didn’t help that you were pushing back against him as if you, too, wanted him as far and deep as possible. 
Once he came down from his high, he laid his chest to your back, rolling you both over to your side and pulling a blanket over your bare bodies. His cock was still buried in your cunt, but you didn’t care. He held you close, hands gently tracing up and down the side of your waist as he left soft kisses on your shoulder, “Get some rest, YN.” You didn’t realize how tired you were until those words. He finally slipped out from you, quickly climbing out of the bed and slipping out the room but quickly returning all the same with a warm towel in his hand, “Let me clean you up first.” 
Jay pulled back the blanket, and spread your legs, gently pressing the warm towel to your heat, wiping you clean. You felt so loved in this moment. You’ve hooked up with plenty of guys before, but none of them has taken care of you like this afterward. Or hell, take care of you during. It was different, a good different, but it still didn’t stop you from asking him why. 
Jay just laughs, “I told you there’s no limits when it comes to me, princess treatment only.” 
Also because you’re making me want to do things I’ve never done for anyone else. 
This was also a first for Jay, doing aftercare for someone. Usually, after he fucks he kicks the women out of his room and goes on about his day normally. But you? You make him want to take care of you. 
Once you are clean, Jay tosses the towel into his dirty clothes hamper and climbs back into bed with you, pulling you close to his chest and making sure you are covered enough with the blanket, pressing a kiss to your forehead. And soon enough, you both fell asleep. 
You woke up the next morning before Jay did. You slowly rolled over to see him lying on his chest, both arms pushed underneath the pillow and soft snores escaping his lips. You smiled at him, gently pushing his dyed hair from his face. 
Your stomach growled, a bit too loud for your liking, scared it would wake him up, but he just kept snoozing. You slowly climbed out of his bed, taking his boxers and pulling up up and over your hips and taking it upon yourself to open his drawers, taking out a gray sweatshirt and pulling it over your head. It was an oversized fit, but it was comfy and smelt like him. 
After everything Jay did for you last night, the least you could do was make breakfast for him. He owned a five-star restaurant and was an amazing cook, he had to have plenty of things to make for breakfast. You carefully tipped toed to his door and slipped out, thinking about the possible things you could make. Some sausage and bacon and eggs. Maybe pancakes or waffles—or even both—with some syrup and butter. Your mouth watered at all the breakfast food items. 
Before you could turn the corner of the hallway, you smelt food alright being made and your foot kicked something on the floor. You quickly looked down to whatever it was you kicked to see…a baby toy??
You quickly looked up as you rounded the corner, seeing four pairs of eyes on you and a baby sitting in a high chair in the kitchen. 
You felt your face heat up. Who are these people?! What are they doing in his apartment? Why is there a baby here? Did he secretly have a kid and not tell you? The baby had his nose, and she even smiled like he does with one corner of the lip curling upwards. You all just stared at each other, specifically the woman sitting in front of the baby. 
The silence is broken when the male standing behind the woman laughs, his head whipping to the dark red-haired male sitting across from the woman at the table, and the other one at his side, “You both owe me a hundred bucks!” 
The woman turned around and faced the one behind her, slapping his arm, “You took a bet on it?!?” 
The slap didn’t even faze him as he kept smiling, “Fuck yeah I did!” 
She turned and faced back at you with concern on her face, “I am so sorry about them.” 
You were at a loss for words, mostly out of pure confusion. 
“Hey, baby,” Jay’s soft voice said, him appearing at your side and leaning against the archway of the wall, “Was wondering where you went.” 
One of the males cleared their throats, and Jay’s smile faded as he turned and looked at everyone in the kitchen. 
The woman crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes down at him, “Got something to tell us?” 
Jay shrugs, trying to play off this awkward situation, “No?” 
The one with the moles on his face stood from the table, also crossing his arms, “We have rules here.” 
Jay was the one laughing now, “This is my apartment.” 
“Yeah, but we all pay the bills here too!” The woman snapped, “The three stooges even took a bet on you, big brother.” 
Big brother…That’s his sister. 
You quickly looked at him, pleading with your eyes for him to explain. He sighs, placing a hand on your back, “Everyone this is YN,” he takes a deep breath in, “YN, this is my sister __, her fiancé, and my best friend Jake is behind her. Heeseung is the redhead and Sunghoon is the other. These are my roommates and childhood friends.” 
You looked at each of them and it made sense. You noticed last night there were more doors on either side of the hallway. You should have known he had roommates. You just didn’t think it was the same people he talked about to you. Your eyes fell back to the baby girl, her chewing on the spoon she held in her small hands. 
“And that precious bundle of joy,” he said pointing a finger to the baby, “Is Hwa Young, my niece.” 
Hwa Young. He named his restaurant after his niece. 
Any worry finally left you. Watching as Jay walked around you and up to Hwa, her little smile growing big the closer he got to her. Her arms reaching out and cooing for him. Jay picked her up from the high chair, holding her tightly to his chest and pressing kisses all over her small face. Her hands grasped at his white shirt for dear life as her giggles filled the apartment. 
You studied them—all of them— as they watched Jay and Hwa. You could tell by the looks of endearment that everyone in that kitchen was a family, and you were the outsider. 
“YN!” His sister called to you and waved you over, “Please come join us, it’s not every day my brother lets us meet his dates.” 
You slowly walked across the living room and into the kitchen, getting a better look at the people around you. Jay and his sister looked so much alike, mostly in their noses. It was obvious Hwa got the Park nose gene. Jake wrapped his arms around her shoulders, leaning his head against her. Hwa had his eyes and a lot of his facial structure, an exact copy and paste beside the nose. “Jay actually never lets his dates stay overnight,” Jake said, clearly poking fun at Jay, “We made a bet on if you were still here or not.” 
Jay shot daggers at his best friend, “Why the fuck are you three making those stupid ass bets?!” 
Sunghoon shrugged, “Kind of hard not to when we all wake up to see an extra pair of shoes and a green dress in the hallway.” 
Fuck. The dress. You and Jay both had the realization of the forgotten dress, looking at each other with embarrassment. 
“Maybe next time, don’t leave clothes in the main entrance, stupid ass brother.” his sister teased, sticking her tongue out at him. 
Jay stuck his tongue out back, “Shut it, stinks.” 
The kitchen became loud, but so full of life as the five of them bickered back and forth but still laughed and smiled all the same. 
“YN,” his sister calls for you, slinging Jake’s arms off her shoulders and standing from the chair, “Do you need extra clothes? You can borrow some of mine.” 
You nodded, smiling at her, “I’d like that actually.” She took your hand and dragged you into what you assumed was her and Jake’s bedroom. A small crib sat in the corner of the room beside a dresser. She pulls out a pair of sweatpants and panties, “I don’t know how you feel about wearing another female's underwear, but I don’t mind at all. It’ll just be until we can wash the clothes you came here in.” 
You accepted the clothing, “No this is perfect, thank you for being so sweet to me.” 
She smiled, “I apologize for my brother, you looked…shocked to see all of us. I’m assuming he didn’t tell you.”
You shook your head, “I knew of you guys, just not that…”
“We all lived together?” you nodded again, “Yeah, Jongseong is very protective, to say the least. He more than likely didn’t tell you upfront because of that protection.” You gave her a confused look, what could Jay be so protective about? 
“It’s about Hwa and __,” you turned to see Jake walking in, “Jay is super protective over his sister and niece. Honestly, probably even you too, considering you stayed overnight.” 
You tried to not blush, “I am assuming that’s not something that happens here?” 
They both shook their heads, “Jay normally kicks them out right after,” his sister sighs, “But you’re different. He talks about you all the time.” 
Okay, NOW you were blushing. He talked about you? You couldn’t believe it. 
Jay yells something at Sunghoon about messing up pancake batter, causing the two in front of you to laugh. 
“Guess we should go back to make sure he doesn’t kill Hoon,” Jake said and pressed a kiss to his fiancé's forehead. 
“Welcome to the circus, YN,” she said, giving you a wink, “I am actually really happy you’re here. There’s too much testosterone in this place.”
Jake chuckles as you both follow him out of the room, you slipping into the bathroom to change into the clothes she gave you and returning back to the kitchen. You watched the five roommates banter back and forth. Teasing and laughing as breakfast was being made. Little Hwa sat in her chair eating cereal without a care in the world. 
It was obvious the bonds these five had ran deep. You kind of felt bad to just stomp on in. But they all accepted you. Teasing Jay about you and you about him. After a while, you too started teasing and laughing along with them, as if you, too, grew up with them. 
Jay wrapped his arm around you, resting his arm on the back of the chair you sat on, his thumb making figure eights on your shoulder, “It’s not too late to back out, you know,” he whispers to you, his eyes glued to Heeseung as he picked up Hwa and spun her around, placing a kiss to her cheek. You felt Jay tense up and stayed that way until Hwa was being held gently to Heeseung’s chest, “There’s still time to bounce out.” 
You looked up to him, placing a hand on his knee, “I’ll gladly join this circus.” 
Jay smiled and pulled you in for a quick kiss. The other men groaned and made gross sounds, “Shut up! Specifically you Jake! I don’t wanna hear it!” Jay snapped. 
Everyone laughs. You could indeed get used to this little chaotic circus. 
You’ve bounced in and out of the Park/Sim/Lee residence over the next couple of weeks. You felt at home there, mostly after getting to know each of them a bit better. Specifically Jay’s sister. She was probably the happiest one to have your presence there. 
You and Jay have also gone on multiple dates since then and have not only made love to you in his bed but also your own, taking care of you each and every time. It was pure bliss, truly. 
The only issue was…he’s yet to ask you to be his girlfriend. Which honestly, didn’t completely bother you. But at the same time…did? You’ve seen the way other women look at him when the two of you go out. You see how they drool over him at his restaurant. To say you were jealous was an understatement. Jake has told you the old stories about them going out to clubs and bars during their college days. How they were back in high school. Jay was always a heartthrob. You wanted that power to call him yours. Of being his. To go out and be able to show him off to the world. To hit up clubs, bars, and parties with him wrapped around you. 
And that’s exactly how you found yourself here in your current situation, all because you opened your mouth to his sister, her ears perking up at the words: clubs, bars, and parties. 
You fiddled your thumbs as you were sandwiched between Heeseung and __, with Sunghoon, Jake, and __’s best friend Shotaro, sitting across from you. 
Jay stood at the edge of the table, his pen touching the notepad, “Run that by me one more time,” he said with a dead calm. 
“I said, corn lover,” his sister said through her teeth, “Let’s go out tonight. It’s Friday.” 
Jay just stares at her and looks down at his notepad, “You have ten seconds to tell me what you want for lunch or else I am walking away.” 
“Dude,” Heeseung groans, throwing his head back against the booth, “We haven’t hit up a club in so long!” 
Jay drops his hands to his side, “Yeah because we have jobs and a baby to look after.” His sister just shrugs and crosses her arms, clearly pouting, “Who would watch Hwa?” Jay finally asked, breaking at his sister's will. She just smiles, glancing back at him. He snapped her name, “Who. Will. Watch. Hwa.” 
There’s that protectiveness over his niece. 
Jay shot his eyes to Shotaro, “I am guessing you aren’t watching her.” 
Shotaro smiled and shook his head, “Nope. I am coming with.” 
Jay’s eyes shot to Jake, “You better speak up about who is taking care of my niece before I strangle you.” 
Jake raised up his hands, “Dude, you think I’d just leave my daughter at home or something?”
Jay kept quiet, but his stare was relentless. 
“Oh, for fuck sake,” his sister groans, “Mom and Dad are watching her tonight. They are driving in within the next couple of hours.” 
Jay relaxed and let out a sigh of relief knowing Hwa would be taken care of by someone he trusted. His eyes finally land on you, “Are you okay with going out?” 
You nod, “It was…kind of my idea.” 
Jay smiles softly at you, “Fine, I’ll go.” 
“Yes!” The five of them chanted, leaving Jay to walk away with a roll of his eyes. 
“Hey!” Sunghoon yelled after him, “I am fucking starving! Come back here!” 
Jay flips him the bird, “I already know want you hooligans want, fuck off.” 
Laughter fills the booth you all sat at. Jay’s sister hugs you and rocks back and forth, “It’s going to be a blast!” 
You crossed your arms, standing closer to __, your eyes searching the club. 
You all arrived a little over an hour ago but it didn’t take long for Jay, Jake, Heeseung, and Sunghoon to be on the dance floor with alcohol in their hands. Shotaro wrapped his arm around her shoulder, rocking her back and forth to the club music as he took a sip from his beer can. 
“Why aren’t you two out with the others?” you asked, clinging to her other side, eyes finally landing on the boys on the dance floor. They laughed and sang to the music and drank their alcohol, tossing their hands in the air and jumping when everyone else did. 
She smiles at you, “As you’ve been told, those four are attached at the hip, they do everything together. I’ve been out with them enough times to let them have their moment first, they’ll come running back when they get it out of their systems.” 
You just nodded, seeing how obvious it was that this friendship ran deep, that you were still an outsider. 
“Don’t look so sad, YN,” Taro nudges you, “They’ll come running when they miss the girls, they always do.” 
“It’s mostly when one of them breaks off, the others follow like ducklings or head back to me,” she laughs, “But things are different now, you’re with us.” she wraps her arms around you, squeezing you, “You make my brother happy, I haven’t seen him like this before.” 
You weren’t sure what to say, so you just smiled, feeling happy that you made a change in him. 
“Anyway the real question is why aren’t you two drinking?” Taro asked, raising a brow, “I feel alone over here.” 
You wanted to drink, but you were expecting to do it by Jay’s side or even with __, but she wasn’t drinking, so you just clung to her side. 
“Well,” She started, giving a small shrug. 
“You aren’t pregnant again are you?!” Taro quickly pulled her to him, “Please tell me if you are!” 
“No!” she snapped, pushing her best friend slightly, “But we are actively trying…when we can. So I do not want to have any alcohol in my system.” 
It made sense. So Shotaro nods and wraps his arm back around her, “Whatever you say, princess.” 
You find the boys in the crowd again, seeing a hoard of girls now focused around them, “Guess they won’t be coming back to us soon…” you sigh. 
She looks out into the crowded dance floor and laughs, “We have beautiful men, what can we say?” 
Jake gave the females a small, “Sorry ladies, I have a fiancé and a child. I’m a taken man.” He shrugs his shoulders, making eye contact with __, “Actually she’s standing over there and I miss her, so bye!” 
Heeseung groaned at the loss of Jake, but reached his hands out to the ladies, “We won’t leave ya lovely ladies here, dance with us.” 
They laughed and cooed as they surrounded themselves around Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon. But Jay was off on another planet. 
He was watching you. 
He watched as Jake arrived at you three, his arms wrapping around his sister and kissing her, watching how you smiled at them. 
The women in front of Jay placed their hands on his biceps and shoulders, talking to him, but their words went in one ear and out the other. He was too focused on you. 
Before you, Jay would dive right into whatever these girls were offering him. To drink and get drunk and either take one of them to his bed or find himself in one of theirs. But ever since he saw you, it’s only been you. 
You made eye contact with him, your smile fading seeing how the other girls clung to him. But Jay only smiled at you, taking the girl's hands and pulling them off him, “Sorry, I have to go,” the girls pouted, asking him to stay, “I belong to someone else,” he said, his eyes filling with endearment for you, “She’s waiting for me.” 
Sunghoon grabbed the girls, pulling them towards him, giving Jay a wink, “Go to her.” 
Jay pushed his way through the crowd, eyes still locked on you. He loved the cute little black skirt you were wearing, loved how it fitted so tight against your thighs, shaping your hips perfectly. Love how the black tank top was also fitted, cupping your breasts nicely and showing off a bit of your tummy. It was sexy and he had to admit, he was jealous knowing his friends and other men in this club were seeing you like this. So dolled and hot. It was making his temperature rise and his pants to grow tighter. He wanted you. Not just in a sexual way at this moment, but all of you. You do something to him, drive him crazy, and he’s falling hard for you. 
He crashed hard into you, pulling you so tightly against him, hands cupping your face and pressing his lips to yours. Even though he was only away from you for a short time, he missed you. You could taste the alcohol on his lips mixing with the taste of his vanilla chapstick and the smell of his cologne. It was intoxicating, making you drunk just off him. 
His sister, best friend, and Shotaro all cooed at the two of you, “How cute!” 
Jay chuckles against your lips then rests his forehead against yours, sliding his hands down to your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours, “Let’s get away from these heathens,” 
“Heathens?!” his sister scoffs, “As if!” 
Jay smiles at his sister, quickly reaching over and ruffling her hair, “You'll always be a heathen, stinks.” Before she could start protesting, Jay was pulling you off to the other end of the club, his friend's laughter fading out as the distance grew. 
“Where are we going?” you asked him, squeezing his hand tighter and smiling so wide. 
“Away from public eyes, or well, my family's eyes,” You raised a brow, confused. But your question came with the answer when he pulled you into the corner of the club, pressing your body against it, face making contact with the cool wall. Jay snapped his hips against your ass, rubbing his hard cock against you, “I need you, I can’t wait much longer,” he ran his hands down your waist and to your thighs, “You’re so sexy, I hate knowing everyone else is seeing you in this outfit.” 
You purposely dressed this way, not for everyone else, but for Jay. You wanted to look good for him, wanted him to fall to his knees for you, and it seemed to be working. 
He placed kisses on your neck, breathing your scent in, “Fuck I love it when you wear this perfume, it gets me going.” You also purposely wore this perfume. It was Jay’s favorite and every time you’ve worn it he always ended up balls deep inside you. He loves it and can’t get enough of it, “You make me so crazy, baby.”
Jay needed to feel you…right now. His hands worked their way back up your thighs, pulling the skirt up and over your hips, quickly working fast to unbutton his pants and push them and his boxers down far enough to pull his length out, rubbing the tip against your clothed cunt. 
“Jay,” you gasp, pressing your fingers into the wall, “Someone might see.” 
“It’ll be quick,” he moans in your ear, “It’s very dark in this corner, no one will even notice,” his index finger pulling your panties to the side, feeling your slick pool onto his fingers, “Plus you're already so wet for daddy, what kind of man would I be to not satisfy his woman?” 
His woman?
Jay pumped his index finger in and out of your cunt, licking his lips at how wet you were, he didn’t even need to prep you. Jay wasted no more time, lifting your hips high enough and prodding your entrance with his tip, slowly pushing in until the tip kissed your cervix, “Fuck you’re so wet for me,” he moans again, taking a deep breath in before sliding all the way out and pushing himself back in, “so fucking wet.” Jay was able to pump himself inside you with ease, leaning his chest to your back and hands resting at your hip, pushing you down with each thrust he made. If this was to be a quickie, then he needs to be well, quick. 
You bit your tongue in an attempt to drown out your moans, probably not needing to anyway since the music in the club was so loud, but still you did it anyway, being scared of getting caught. But Jay was loving this, relishing in the pleasure of the possibility of getting caught. It was exciting. “My girl, being so good for me, taking me like this.” 
“But,” you gasp, “I’m not your girl—“ moans out in pleasure from him picking up speed, “girlfriend.” 
Jay was taken aback at your words, what do you mean you weren’t his girlfriend? You’ve been seeing each other for a while now, was it not so obvious you two were together? Jay realized then maybe you just need that reassurance, that physical label. Which was fine, Jay didn’t mind making it official official. He would be so happy to do so. Anything for you. 
“Baby, you’re mine, got it? We’re dating. You belong to me, and I belong to you.” 
You smirked, resting your body completely against the wall and hiking your ass higher, giving your boyfriend more access to fuck into you harder. And Jay did, he picked up speed and slammed his hips into you harder, squeezing your hips and digging his nails into your skin as you clenched around him, “Baby, I won’t last much longer if you keep squeezing me like that, please keep squeezing me, fuck it feels so good.” 
You clenched around him again and his moans filled your ear, his head resting against yours as he panted and chanted out your name, his thrusts becoming sloppy but unrelenting. You welcomed his seed as it spewed inside you, painting your walls like an art piece. 
Jay smirked as he slowly pulled out and replaced your panties and pulled down your skirt, “Let’s return to the others now, ya?” he asked, readjusting his pants back into place, “I want to show off my girlfriend.” 
You took your hands in his, smiling at him as he led you back into the heart of the club. 
“Absolutely not,” Jay said, waving his hand at Jake to move out of the way from the TV, “You make the perfect window, MOVE!” 
Jake rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “Come on man please!” 
You were lying on the couch with Jay, sitting between his legs with your back to his chest. The two of you were enjoying a horror movie of a masked killer when Jake stepped into the frame. 
Jay flung his head back into the armrest, “Dude, ask someone else.” 
Jake clicked his tongue, “I’ve asked everyone. Hee and Hoon are obviously at work, Shotaro is out of town for today for his job, you’re the only one who can watch Hwa tonight.” 
Jake was desperate and it was obvious, “What’s got you so desperate for?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows, “Got a hot date?” 
You love that you’ve finally gotten closer with everyone in the apartment to the point of joking and teasing like they do with each other. You can even just randomly show up, knock on the door and they let you in like you belong there. You and Jay also have been officially a couple for three months now, and life with Jay has been perfect. You’ve never been this happy. 
Jake smirked, “I do, actually.” 
Jay groans, “You just want to fuck my sister, brother. Not allowed.” 
Jake narrows his eyes, “I am engaged to her? I knocked her up?? I’m allowed to fuck her? Brother I haven’t had sex in almost two weeks, I’m desperate here.” 
“Dude,” Jay snapped, “Stop talking, I don’t want to hear it.” 
The two boys started their normal banter. You found it cute, honestly. Seeing Jay all worked up and being overprotective while Jake does all the teasing. 
“Jay,” Jake said, putting his hands together in a praying format, “Please, we don’t trust anyone else with Hwa but you and YN. Plus if you say no to me, __ is just going to beg you, and you can’t say no to her.” 
Jay knew he was right, he couldn’t tell his sister no. Never was able to, clearly, she’d never listen anyway, hinting at the fact she broke the off-limits rule and fucked his best friend and well, here they all were now. 
“We’ll watch her,” you answered for Jay, “Enjoy your time with __.” You didn’t mind watching Hwa, it honestly gave you more time to spend with her. She was always either attached to Jake, __, or Jay. Sometimes with Heeseung and Sunghoon, but mostly with her parents and uncle. 
Jay pinched your thigh and was ready to protest, but the deed was done. Jake clapped his hands, “Thank you so much!” Jake raised his hands in victory, walking towards his room, “I’m getting so pussy drunk tonight.” 
“Sim Jaeyun!!” Jay snapped, taking a pillow from behind him and tossing it across the room at Jake, completely missing from Jake sliding to the side and rushing into the room, his laughter being heard from the other side of the door, “Fucking prick.” 
You giggled, “Jay, let him have his fun.” 
Jay scoffed, “He just wants to get her pregnant again.” 
You sat up and turned to look at him, “Is that such a bad thing?” you teased, “You’d be an uncle to two.” 
Jay did kind of like the sound of that, mostly if his sister would have a boy and all the things he’d teach that kid and show him how to be cool. But he’d be done for if she’d had another girl. Jake would probably keel over too. 
So he waved off the idea, “As exciting as that sounds, this apartment was only meant for four people, there’s six living here. We don’t have the space for a seventh.” 
You crawled on top of him, straddling him, “It’s seven including me when I am here.” 
He smirks at you, hands now rubbing up and down your thighs as his cock starts to harden, “But you don’t live here.
You traced your fingers up and down his biceps, “This is basically my second home,” you lean forward, brushing your nose against his, “So I am the seventh.” You living here with him didn’t sound like a bad idea, he wouldn’t have to miss you so much. You’d easily just move right into his bedroom with him. The idea was so tempting. 
Jay lifted his face up, brushing his lips against yours, “You going to help pay the bills?” he whispered, sliding his thumbs up to the hems of your shorts, slipping them under, “Since you’re the seventh here.” 
You softly kissed him, then rubbed your nose against his, “No limits with you, remember? Princess treatment only.” 
Jay chucked, taking your neck with his hand and bringing your lips back to his, deepening the kiss. Oh, how bad he wanted to take you back to his bedroom right now. But the front door opening and the sounds of his sister scoffing took that temptation away. 
“Is this how you felt when you caught me and Jake?” she scrunches her nose, resting Hwa against her hip, “No wonder you’re always grumpy after, this is gross.” 
Jay just shakes his head, rubbing his thumb against your neck, “Get used to it. If I had to deal with it, you have to deal with it too, stinks.” 
Hwa’s coos and giggles had Jay smiling, his heart feeling with so much warmth. Jake came out of the room right after, Hwa reaching her arms out for her father, “Hello my sweet girl,” Jake cooed at her, bringing her close to his chest and kissing her chubby cheeks, “How was running errands with mommy?” 
“We did all the fun little shopping!” She said, pinching her daughter's cheeks, “All that fun stuff and now we’re going to have fun with Uncle Jay and Aunt YN, now aren’t we?” 
Aunt YN…??
“Yeah, a lot more fun than what you’ll be having.” Jay teased, lifting you off him and standing from the couch. The moment Hwa saw Jay walking towards her, her little arms stretched out, little fingers flexing into a fist and back out, speaking little babbles as if saying “Uncle Jay! Hold me!” He took her in his arms, rubbing his nose to her small one, her giggles filling the apartment. 
“Right,” his sister said, “You’ll be having a lot more fun than us.” 
“Obviously, because Uncle Jay and Aunt YN know how to party, isn’t that right?” 
You were still being thrown for a loop at being called Aunt, but you nodded anyway. 
Soon enough it was just the three of you in the apartment. Both you and Jay sat on the floor with Hwa as she played with her building blocks. 
“Aunt YN, huh?” you said, finally deciding to bring it up. 
Jay helped Hwa stack her blocks just for her to push them over and giggle, waiting for him to restock them, “Of course,” he says so casually, “You’re here enough to be considered one. My sister wouldn’t have addressed you as such if she didn’t think you’d fit that title. Heeseung and Sunghoon get called Uncle as well. Plus you love Hwa just as much as the rest of us, it’s perfect.” 
You felt your heart warming up at the thought of it, being a part of this little family. Hwa looked over to you, as if she could read your mind, and she smiled, holding her hands up to you. Now you know why Jay is always so ready to burn the world for this little girl. You picked her up and placed her in your lap, her little giggles making your heartache in such a loving way. You pulled her hair from her face, and placed kisses on her soft face. 
Jay’s heart immediately beat faster, his hands dropping the wooden block. Oh, he was in love with you. Seeing the way you were with his niece just now was the final piece to the puzzle for him. He’s in love with you. 
“Let’s have a baby.” 
You whipped your head up to your boyfriend, “What?” 
Jay’s eyes dropped from yours to Hwa, watching how her little fingers wrapped around yours, “Did I stutter?” 
Your face heated up and you awkwardly laughed, “Funny joke, Jay,” you looked back to Hwa, holding her tighter, “We’ve only been together for a short while, kind of early to be talking about kids, no?” 
Jay moved closer to you, taking your chin between his fingers and forcing you to look up at him, “I don’t care how short of time I’ve known you, it would be worth all the while having a baby with you.” 
You just smile at him, “Jay, give us a bit more time, we can discuss having children down the line.” Jay chuckles, kissing your lips then sitting back down, “Besides,” you sigh, “You still need to meet my parents.” 
Ah, the parents. The two people who do nothing but give you hell. Jay’s face of pure irritation was on display, showing you how he didn’t like the idea, but he knew it was important to you, so he relaxed his face with a sigh, “Name when and where baby, I’ll be there.” 
You nodded, making a mental note to call your parents later, being distracted by little Hwa and her yawns, her trying to force her eyes to stay open. 
“I think it’s time for someone’s bedtime,” Jay whispers, taking Hwa from you, “I’ll go put her down.” 
Jay disappeared into Jake’s and __ bedroom and returned back into the living room just as quickly, carefully shutting the bedroom door behind him. Jay hasn’t been able to get the image of you pregnant with his child out of his head ever since he mentioned it. And oh man, did the picture look sexy. Jay started to realize why Jake felt the way he did about his sister because it’s the way he’s feeling about you. 
It made him hard, truly did. His shorts were growing tighter against him. His eyes were glued to your mouth and how your lips relaxed into a soft pout as you stared off at TV. Jay started palming himself and dropped down onto the couch, “Hey, babe?” You turned and looked at him, heat flushing your entire body. Jay barely had sat down on the couch and already had his shorts and boxers pulled down, hand pumping his cock, “We have a problem,” Jay gasped at his own strokes, “I need you to fix it, got too horny thinking how sexy you’d look with my baby in you.” Your mouth watered and rubbed your thighs together. You loved how pretty his hand looked as it rose up and down his shaft, how his veins popped out. Taking notice of how when his hand reached the top, precum would slowly pump out the tip and leak down the side, “Come suck me off, princess, be a good girl for daddy.” 
You didn’t even have to think twice before you fell to your knees and took his length in your hand, tongue stretched out and flatting against the head, licking up the dripping precum. Jay hissed, flinging his head back against the couch, “Don’t tease me,” he warns, hand getting tangled up in your hair, “Be a good girl and I’ll fuck you so—“ his words were cut off by you taking him fully in your mouth, your nose touching his pelvis, “Holy fuck baby.” 
His fingers clenched tighter in your hair, moving with the motion of you bobbing your head. Jay forced his head down, mouth slacked and panting, watching how your perfect mouth sucked him so good. It was driving him insane. Mostly when you’d flatten your tongue to take more of him down your throat, your gag reflex sending vibrations onto him. Jay was definitely jealous of whoever you gave head to first, because whoever that man was got to experience pure heaven firsthand. 
His hair was starting to fall into his face, his free hand reaching up and pulling it back, giving him back his direct line of sight to look at you, only to be surprised at already seeing you staring back at him. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, loving the tears that swelled in your eyes and how you batted them at him, not slowing down your pace at all. 
You were going crazy at seeing how blown out his pupils were, how they looked down at you with such pleasure and as if you were the one who put the stars in the sky. You’ve never had a man look at you like this, with so much want and need and pleasure. He has such as much effect on you as you have on him. 
“Fuck, princess,” he moans, “Just like that, yeah—fuck—just like that.” This was the best head he’s ever received, and it pissed him off at how fast he was fixing to cum, wanting to relish more of the warmth your mouth gave him but at the same time wanting that release. He was so back and forth, but to his dismay, his cock twitched and threatened to shoot his load, “I’m fixing to cum babe,” he whispers, pressing your head down onto him, “I’m cumming.” 
His warm seed shot at the back of your throat, your tongue still rubbing against his shaft as he bucked his hips slowly, chasing out his high. 
Once he came by from reality, he pulled your hair, forcing you off his dick and to look at him, “Did you swallow?” you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, showing his cum nowhere in sight, “Good fucking girl.” He continued to yank you by your hair, pulling you up into his lap and pressing his lips to yours in a kiss, “Wanna head to your apartment once Jake and my sister return? I want to fuck you and be as loud as possible.” 
You nodded, feeling your panties continue to soak from your juices. You prayed for them to get back faster. 
Jay bounced his leg, not out of nervousness, but pure anger. Your parents sat across from the two of you, eating their dinner like you two weren’t even in the same restaurant as them. The plan was to meet your parents at this restaurant—that your father chose—at six thirty. You and Jay arrived thirty minutes earlier so your parents wouldn’t have to wait but saw they already arrived and ordered their meal. So now you and Jay sat in silence, waiting for your meals to arrive. 
“Would it have killed you to wait for us?” you said with cool calm, making sure the ice that your words were laced with hit them hard, “If you were showing up early you could have called me.” 
Your mother glanced up at you, eyes somewhat apologetic, but still filled with no care whatsoever, “YN, honey, you know your father runs a tight schedule. He has a lot of things to do.” 
“It’s Saturday,” you hissed, “Last time I checked, Dad has the weekends off.” 
Your father dropped his fork onto the plate, piercing his eyes at you, “I am a very busy man, YN. You’re lucky we agreed to this dinner tonight.” Jay locked his jaw and clenched his fingers into his slacks, who the fuck does this man think he is? “But, this is for you, so I apologize for arriving early and ordering before you two arrived. Honestly, I just wanted to enjoy my meal before we… discuss.” 
Yeah, discuss my fist plowing through your fucking teeth, old man. 
Jay was trying to keep calm, to keep a good poker face. These were your parents, he needed to be on his best behavior for you, mostly with how you’ve told them how they both are. Jay fully understands now why you try so hard for them, they have such high standards. 
Your father took one last bite of his meal and wiped his face with his napkin, “So, Jay, was it? Tell me about yourself.” 
Here we go…
Jay took a deep breath, feeling calmer after feeling your hand rest on his knee, “Yes sir, I grew up in a smaller town about an hour from here. I own and run a restaurant and work part-time with my best friend at his—“ 
Your father waved him off, “I already know that bullshit, I meant tell me something about yourself that would help make me believe you’re good enough for my daughter?” 
Excuse me?
Jay stared blankly at him, “I don’t quite understand what you mean, sir.” 
Your father sat back in his chair, crossing his arms, “Do you think you’re actually worthy of my girl? That your little restaurant and part-time job as a software developer would be good enough?” 
“With all respect,” Jay said leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together, “I made enough money to support your daughter and be financially stable.” 
Your father chuckled, “Yeah, only because you have your sister and best friends living under the same roof as you, in an apartment, might I add. With your niece living there too. You have support.” 
What was he trying to get at here? “I am very close with my family and best friends. It made more sense for us to stay together—“
“YN this is exactly why you should have continued going to law school,” your father scoffed, waving off Jay again, “So you don’t end up stuck in a ratty apartment with multiple people.” 
“Excuse me?” Jay said as calmly as he could, “My apartment is anything but ratty.” 
Your father kept his gaze on you, “My daughter only deserves the best, nothing as low as your income and living situations.” 
“Dad!” you snapped, “There’s nothing wrong with the amount of money he makes or his living situation.” 
Your father shrugged, finally looking at Jay, “YN, he can’t even keep his natural hair color,” he pointed a finger at Jay’s blonde-silver hair, “And his ears are pierced, is that a type of hooligan you want to see yourself with? Stuck in an apartment with multiple other people and a baby? He won’t be able to support you, mostly when you go back to law school and quit your low job at that gardening shop.” 
Jay stood to his feet, fists resting on the table, “When she goes back to law school? As in forcing her?” 
Your father smirked, “Yes, I’d be paying for it. She needs to follow in my footsteps.” 
“But she doesn’t want to,” Jay snarled. 
Your father sighs, looking at Jay with such disappointment, “You and your fucked up family won’t ever be good enough for my daughter.” 
You quickly grabbed Jay’s arm, using all your strength possible to keep him from walking around the table. Jay was livid. “Talk shit about me all you want, but don’t you dare speak ill of my family!” 
“Jongseong,” You called for him, your voice being enough to force him to sit back down in the chair. 
“I am in love with your daughter,” Jay said calmly and your heart stopped, he loved you? It wasn’t the way he wanted to confess his love for you, but he was desperate to have some advantage over your father, to prove himself, “I may not make millions, but I make enough to give her the life she wants, a life filled with happiness and no worries. I will always support her dreams and protect her with my life and it goes the same for my family, they love and adore her. I may not have a big fancy house, but I don’t want that. I love the little apartment I share with my sister, my niece, and my best friends. I wouldn’t ask for a better place or people to live with, and if that apartment is where YN wants to spend the rest of her life in, I’d be more than willing to make that happen, and if she wants to be a florist and own her own shop? I’d spend every drop of money I earn to build her a shop.” 
You slid your hand down to his hand, twisting your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. Jay looks at you and gives you a small smile, rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand, “I love her, so much. No amount of money or where she came from will ever change that. She’s my soulmate, I am lucky to have her.” 
Your mother’s heart was skipping a beat, face softened at the two of you. She quickly looks over at your father, placing a hand on his bicep, “Dear, they are happy.” 
Jay looks back at your father with pleading eyes. 
“No,” he said with a stern voice, “Love isn’t enough. Not when it’s clearly obvious he only wants what’s between her legs to whore about—“ 
You weren’t able to stop Jay this time. He moved too fast for you to even register what was happening. One moment your father was sitting in his chair, the next he was on the floor, Jay on top of him with his fist connecting to your father's face. 
This…This was Jay’s protection. You’ve heard the stories of how Jay has fought multiple guys growing up when they’ve hurt or talked ill of his sister and friends. Jay was a protector and stood by it. 
But this time was different, this was your father he was beating the shit out of, not some random boy on the street. 
“Jay!” you yelled, rushing to him and grabbing his shoulders to pull him back, “Stop!” 
Jay lifted his fist up, ready to throw another punch but stopped because you asked him to. He took a few deep breaths, staring at your father's bloody nose, “Don’t speak about her like that ever again.” 
Your father just smirks, grabbing a handful of Jay’s dress shirt and using all his strength to punch Jay back in the face, the ring your father always wore cutting a gash on Jay’s cheek. 
Jay moved to hit him again, but your cries and hands pulling and pleading with him to stop forced him to stand up and back away. His hands found home on your waist and pulled you close to his chest, eyes burning holes in your father. 
He stood up with the help of your mother, wiping away the blood from his nose with his sleeve, “No daughter of mine will date such a delinquent! I’ll have his restaurant shut down!” 
You pushed Jay off you and stormed to your father, digging your index finger into his chest, “I love that delinquent and I will continue to date him with or without your permission. And you won’t do such a thing as close his restaurant. I know about your dirty deeds as a lawyer, I’ll expose your bullshit so fast!”
“You wouldn’t dare,” your father pressed. 
“Fucking try me.” you spat, stepping away from him and giving your mother one last look with apologetic eyes, and walking away, pulling Jay behind you. 
She loves me??? She loves me…
Jay couldn’t believe it, “You love me?” 
You pulled him out of the restaurant and let go of his hand, “Take me home.” 
Jay followed behind you, knowing you were anything but happy right now, “Baby, let’s talk—“ 
“Take. Me. Home.” You stood at the passenger side door of his car, hand on the handle waiting for him to unlock it. 
Jay felt his heart sink, scared shitless about what was to come. He brushed your hand out of the way, unlocked the door, and opened it for you, closing it as soon as you got in. 
He just heard you say you loved him indirectly, and now he was terrified he was about to never hear you fully say it to him. 
The ride back to your apartment was silent, and with each trembling step up the stairs to your front door, Jay grew more scared. He’s never been more scared of anything in his entire life. Losing you? it would end him. 
He took you leaving the door open as you walked in as a good sign that he was welcome to come in, so he did. Carefully closing the door behind him and locking it, his hands sweaty as he opens his mouth but no words come out. He knew he had to say something—anything. 
You disappeared to the bathroom and returned back out with a first aid kit, “Sit down, please.” 
Jay nods, pulling the kitchen table chair out and sitting down, watching you with careful eyes as you pull a chair up closer to him, opening the first aid kit and pulling out some ointment, alcohol wipes, and a bandaid. 
You cleaned your hands off and then grabbed another wipe, bringing it to Jay’s cheek and softly dabbing at the cut, “He got me pretty good, didn’t he?” Jay said, trying to make light of the situation, his smile only fading when he saw you weren’t entertaining it. You continued to clean up the wound, dabbing the ointment on the cut and carefully sticking the bandaid to his cheek. He grabbed your wrist before you could move away from him, “Baby, talk to me. Please.” 
You looked into his cocoa eyes, “You hit my father.” You pulled your wrist from his grasp, closing the kit and standing up walking back to the living room. 
“What was I supposed to do, YN?” He scoffs, chasing after you, “Let him continue to speak about you like that? To let him talk about my family like that?” 
You turned to face him, “You could have used your words, not your fists.” 
“Right,” Jay chuckles, “Because talking to him was doing so much.” 
You knew how your father was, words never meant shit to him. It was always about the money and status. Your father knew using his words was going to be enough to piss off Jay, it’s why he did it, more so in the hopes it would get you to see Jay wasn’t worth it and come back home and fall into the nice pretty line he wants you to walk. You hated that line.
“You don’t understand!” you shouted, “He could ruin your entire life!” 
“I don’t give a damn about that!” Jay snapped back, “I know who I am! I have everything I already need and if he decides to try and fuck that over? I say let him try.” 
You run your hands through your long hair, getting more stressed by the minute, “I just wanted tonight to go perfect. I wanted my family to see I was happy that I was okay and prayed my father would see that and it would be enough.” 
Jay took a step closer to you, brushing his fingers down your cheek, but you took a step back, “Was happy? Was okay? Are you saying you aren’t?” Jay felt like he had the world on his shoulders weighing him down, ready to crush him into the ground. 
You shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest and hugging yourself. You didn’t know what else to say at this moment. All you wanted was to prove to your family you were perfectly well off without their help, that Jay was who you wanted and nothing would change it. But Jay letting his emotions get the best of him…
“Please don’t leave me,” he was quick to say, your eyes widening at him, concern on your face that he even thought for a second you’d leave him. Jay was now inches away from you, his hands cupping your face, “I cannot breathe without you. When you’re away from me I feel as if I have no air, that every ounce of it escapes my lungs when you’re not around. I meant it when I said I’m in love with you. My world would end if I ever lost you.” 
You wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you, “Jay,” you whisper, “You’re not going to lose me all because of a small fight. You’re stuck with me.” Jay lets out a shaky breath, resting his forehead against yours. He fully understood how Jake felt when he almost lost his sister, how his heart became a pit of despair and ache. “I love you,” you finally said to him, “I don’t want to live without you.” 
Jay kisses you suddenly, pulling you as close as possible to his body, “I love you. Please don’t ever let anyone ever tell you how to live your life,” he said between kisses, “I support you through everything.”
You smile against his lips, “Fuck everyone but you, you’re the only one who gets me.” 
He smiles back, sliding his hands from your face to your hands, “Fuck everyone but you.” 
Jay leads you to your bedroom, his lips finding home on yours again the minute he lays you down. His hands gently roamed all over your body as he one by one removed your clothing as your hands removed his. 
Sex with Jay always left you breathless, but the way he was making love to you right now made you feel dizzy and even more breathless, breathing air into your lungs with each kiss he planted on your lips. Feeling on cloud nine with each thrust he made into you as his hands clasped together with yours and pinned them down against the sheets. 
He was careful with you, not rough or fast but slow and gentle but still so full of love. He wanted to show you just how much he was in love with you. Yeah rough sex was fucking fantastic, but genuine love-making sex made him feel so whole. Your soft moans of love and pleasure made his body tingle and goosebumps form on his skin. He loved you so fucking much and he prayed you could feel the love he has for you. 
“I love you,” you whisper to him as if you could read his mind, “I love you.” 
Jay squeezed your hands and rocked his hips a tiny bit faster, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” 
Jay chanted his love for you the entire night and continued so even after he came and laid against you as you slept. 
Jay pushed his sunglasses back on his face, sweat dripping down his cheeks as he pulled you to him, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and you wrapping your arms around his waist. 
“It only took a year,” he said, giving you a big smile, “But we finally did it.” 
“Just in time for the summer too!” Heeseung laughed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and Jay’s arm, “YN’s Flower and Gifts!” he smiled, “Has a nice ring to it.” 
Sunghoon popped up behind you, resting his chin on the top of your head, “Just in time for the wedding too!” 
“Ain’t that the truth,” Jake sighs, “__ was taking way too long to pick out flowers.” 
Shotaro glances at Jake, “You both get married next month?!?” 
Jay’s sister pinches Taro’s arm, “Listen, I needed the most perfect flowers!! And YN just happens to be the one who is going to give them to me.” 
You smile at her, “Damn right!” 
“You should have seen the flowers she took care of at the shop she worked at!” Yunjin said, clapping her hands. “YN was born to be a florist!” 
You blushed at your best friend, “Stop!” 
“No!” she sang, pulling you away from Jay and into her arms, “I’m so proud of you!” 
It’s been a year since you and Jay started dating. A year since you’ve found home within his family. It was crazy, silly, and chaotic, but it was perfect. 
Not only is Jay’s restaurant as busy as ever and he still worked with Jake part-time too, but he also co-owned your flower shop. When this man said there were no limits with him, he meant it. “I can use your flowers for when we redecorate the restaurant, and we can cater for you when you hold events.”  It was the perfect partnership, truly. 
“Da-Da!” Hwa cooed, her little legs carrying her over to Jake from her grandparent's side. Jake smiled at her and scooped her up into his arms kissing all over her face. 
“Fuck,” Jay sighs, “I still can’t believe she’s already walking and starting to talk.” 
“You’re telling me!” Jake said, pulling his fiancé to his side, “We can’t believe it either.” 
“Nor the grandparents!” Jay’s mother said, “I remember when the two of you were born, and now you’re both all grown up and I have a grandchild of my own.” 
Jay smiled at his mother and father, loving seeing how happy they were for this whole family. 
Heeseung and Sunghoon watched Jake and __ cuddle Hwa, Sunghoon nudging Jay’s shoulder, “When are you two having one?” 
Jay shot him a glare, “Don’t tempt me.” 
You roll your eyes and cling back to your boyfriend, “Should we show them inside?” 
He looks down at you, “Excited much?”  
You held your finger to your lips, “Super.” 
He nods, handing you the keys to the front door. 
“Everyone!” you shout at your family, “I welcome you to YN’s Flower and Gifts!” you unlocked the doors and flung them open, leading them inside the shop. 
With eyes wide and smiles on their faces, they each trailed around the shop, giving you their congrats and hugs. Jake, __, and Hwa looked around for flowers for their wedding and it honestly made you really happy that you’d have some big part of their wedding. 
Jay wrapped his arms around you, laying your head on his chest, “I’m proud of you, ya know,” he said, squeezing you tightly, “This was all you.” 
You giggled, squeezing him back. You take a look at every single person in your shop, and your heart fills with so much love, “Was this crazy? Are we crazy?” You couldn’t help but feel a bit crazy. Everything you could have wanted came true, how could you not feel crazy?
Jay lifted his sunglasses up, pulling back his hair as they rested atop his head, “Baby, I don’t feel so crazy when you’re around.” He took your chin between his fingers and had you look up at him, “I love you.” 
You smiled, standing up on your tiptoes to reach his lips. Maybe you weren’t so crazy after all.
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—tags: @kangnina @ikeuverse @alvojake @jwnghyuns @iicehoon @lhspeachie @kwiwin @jaeyunq @enhaz1 @wondipity @lilyuwon @arunabrak @seunghancore @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @rapmonie2047 @all4moi @all4yoi @heerinnie @lhsvibez @sunghoonmybf @jeiluvey @parksunghoonsgf @velvtcherie @strawberrywonz @in-somnias-world @heexzbae @luvnicho @zeeloveshee @simjyunnie @niniissus @sk8terhoons @pockettwinzz @honeybunnee @simjaeyunramyeons @fakeuwus @eneiyri
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beefboyandbabygirl · 9 months
Text
Titty-Shirt! (18+)
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pairing: pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader
genre: theme park au??? lmao, coworkers to lovers, kinda enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, lil crack, lil angst
description: you start your new job and your mentor, jeonghan, is the biggest piece of shit you've ever met. you swear you hate him. you swear. he's just also the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.
warnings: whew this requires a lot of warning, first of all a lot of DUBCON BEHAVIOR FROM JEONGHAN INITIALLY (we know she enjoys it to some extent, but he doesnt know), hes a sleazy perverted fuck, tiddie playing, tiddie sucking, tiddie fucking, fingering (f. receiving), dry humping, mirror sex, praise (f. receiving), dirty talk, FINGER SUCKING HNG, a lil degradation (f. receiving), meanie condescending jeonghan turning all soft for ur tiddies :(, V TIDDIE-CENTRIC IF U COULDNT TELL, belinda loves jeonghan, WEED LOTTA WEED, explicit depictions of smoking weed, high sex, this fic sounds rough but it actually has some really soft cute moments, im pretty sure thats it lmk if i forgot smth
quotes from babygirl (@joshibambi): "shove ur cock down my throat treat me like the whore i am", "FUCKING STEP ON ME", "omg hes so disgusting..... im so attracted to him"
wordcount: 13.2k
a/n: the way i raced 2 finish this before im actually moving out... ALSO thinking ab making this a series? like one for each member, the theme being "unusual jobs". like not stuff youd immediately think of like coffee shop or lawyer or ceo or whatever. like. strange jobs. would u guys b on board?
“We’re so excited to have you working with us.” 
She had a mole on her nose that was hard to ignore. It was big and exceptionally round - your thoughts flitted back to your dearest Discovery Channel, and how amazing it was that nature could create such perfect spheres. The thought of your couch and your blanket and your most cherished nature docs brought upon a wave of uncertainty. You could just be lying at home, you thought. 
“Happy to be here,” you smiled tightly. She was your new manager and she was short and stout and had gray hair and a lovely smile and a round mole on her nose. You tried not to make it obvious you were staring at it. 
You were standing in your city’s local theme park under a long path with flower archways. People, kids and parents and ninth graders, swarmed around like bees, standing at booths and in lines to old, janky, rusted roller coasters. It was summer and you were wearing the branded shirt they’d given you, slightly too small, and the matching cap. Insects buzzed past your stray hairs and you looked up at the bright blue sky. 
You needed a job, you had known, and your mom had certainly known it too, so you could only lounge around after graduating for a short while, before you opted to apply. This had been your last choice. You’d tried to become some sort of lobby-worker, tried makeup stores and even regular stores. You used to make fun of the people who worked here. But now that person was you, and standing under the archways in the summer sun slathered in sunscreen, you figured you would make the best of it until the busy season was over. 
“So,” your manager, Belinda, began after a brief pause of polite nods, “new employees such as yourself are required to be trained and surveyed by an existing worker for a two-week period, but after that you get to run the rides all by yourself.” 
She said it like it was something to look forward to. You tried to believe that it was.
“Of course,” you said, and once again the space between you was filled with polite and exaggerated nodding. “Need to learn first before you get to be the master.”
“Exactly!” she said. Her lipstick was barbie-pink and a little overlined on the right side. She smelled faintly of gasoline. “So we’re handing you off to one of our star-employees!”
You hummed and noticed her taking a step backwards, indicating you to follow. She began walking, trudging over the cobbled paths and shuffling awkwardly in between walls of people. You followed behind. “He’s been working here for the past two years, so he knows the place in and out.”
As you walked, passing twisting, gnarly tracks with screams emanating from them and stands with oversized, China-made plushies hanging from them, you tried to imagine what a star-employee at Caratland Theme Park looked like. 
It was probably someone that loved roller coasters, maybe someone like yourself, who strived for approval and perfection, maybe someone that found a certain joy in being a good service experience for guests. Someone who was good with kids? 
“So you’ll be training with him for a bit before we leave you alone with the coasters, of course, but it should be no trouble, he’s a fun guy!” 
You passed by a haunted house, where a group of kids psyched each other up in the queue. Dodging a tree, you finally came up on a certain blue ride where Belinda stopped and put her hands on her hips, power posing in front of the creaky, old machinery. 
The Pirate Swing. That’s what it was called, and it was a big ship attached to a huge, metal pole on each side, and it was currently swooshing up and down with a large, grating sound. You cringed at it. Belinda noticed and frowned, fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Maybe we should oil that one.” 
Kids and parents were lined up at the stairway leading up to it in a parade of artificial polyester colors, and on the edge of the platform where the ship was shoveling through the air, a little booth was sat. Peeking through the frankly grimy windows, you could see him. He was slumped back in a wooden chair, wearing the same shirt as you and Belinda, and wearing big, blocky, black sunglasses. 
“Jeonghan!” she called, and you saw the figure jolt. He looked briefly dazed, before he snapped his head up to peer through the glass, smiling and waving. The kids in line turned to glare at you. He scrambled up from his seat clumsily and with sporadic movement, and you both watched how he hunched over the door, shaking it in its frame before it finally let open. He took one long step out the door and was finally outside, looking down at you from the platform and leaning on the railing. 
“Belinda! Nice to see you,” he breathed, smiling in a way that seemed to indicate he did not find the prior sequence of events embarrassing. In fact, he seemed to think he had the upper hand - the confidence rolled off of him in waves. You grimaced. 
You could see him much better now that he was outside, not broken up by the greasy glass, and whatever you had envisioned the star-employee to look like, this was not it. He was young, maybe just a little older than you, and he was thin, with long black hair that just kissed his shoulders. About half of his face was hidden away behind the frankly humongous sunglasses on his face, but he had pale pink lips and a pronounced cupid's bow, and even though you were a little skeptical of him, the cockiness in his smile was well-received. 
“This is Y/n!” Belinda said (yelling to overpower the severely loud child glee), gesturing to you, and you almost felt self-conscious when he looked over at you and smiled. “She’s a new employee and you’ll be her mentor during her training period.” 
“Sure thing!” he said simply. Again with the polite nods, you thought, before you felt Belinda’s hand on your shoulder. You glanced over and she squeezed. 
“Good luck, Y/n! You’re in great hands!” Now that you weren’t so sure about. Had the two of you not seen the same thing? 
You mumbled a thanks and she padded away, once more dodging and weaving through huge chains of people, and you squinted after her, before you turned back to Jeonghan. He was already looking at you, a lazy smile on his lips. 
“Welcome to The Pirate Swing, matey! Get up here and let me show you the ropes,” he padded back to the booth, now visibly more relaxed, as his back returned in a hunch. “I should probably stop the ride,” he mumbled to himself, pressing a button on a long controlpanel with a grid of eight buttons. 
You climbed up the stairs unsurely, hand smoothing over the railing as you went. At the top you squeezed in beside Jeonghan. It was a fairly small space, just big enough for the two of you to stand next to each other. Jeonghan smiled a straight smile at you, before brushing past you to let out the dizzy guests. 
“Was it a good ride?!” You heard him ask distantly, while you studied the interior of the booth. 
It was reeking with a sweet herbal stench, and for a moment you might’ve chalked it up to sweat and cologne, but when your gaze danced over the grid, you became aware of a small, open ziploc of weed on the countertop, crumbs of it dotted by the opening. An energy drink, most certainly warm from the sun flowing in, was perched next to it, and you saw more cans by the foot of the wooden chair (it seemed like a chair that had been dragged in from somewhere else - it was almost reminiscent of the one from your grandma’s house).  
You grimaced, looking over to where Jeonghan was waving kids off and shuffling over to let in people from the queue, a big sign for checking heights in his hand. The sunglasses, of course, you thought and frowned at the room. Luckily it seemed pretty straight forward, so maybe you could escape this Jeonghan character earlier than two weeks. 
“Right,” Jeonghan clapped his hands together, pushing past you again. “This is how you turn it on,” he said and pressed one long, skinny finger to a black button that read ‘dispatch’. 
Sure enough, the huge metal set to work again, screeching as it lifted a boat-full of nuclear families through the air. 
“You turn it off with this other one. Usually rides just stop by themselves when they reach the end, but since we got a little shitty one today it’s manual.” 
“Okay,” you said, nodding along and watching when his hand danced and pointed to the set of buttons.
“That’s pretty much it!” he said, collapsing in his chair again, sunglasses sliding halfway down his nose and revealing his bloodshot eyes. 
“What about the other buttons?” you ask pointedly, arms crossed.
“Don’t worry about them, sweet cheeks,” he waved you off. “They don’t do much.”
The empty cans by his chair clattered when he reached down a hand for one, toppling over and hitting the metal flooring. You scrunched your nose in disgust. 
“I like your shirt,” he mumbled, nimble fingers picking up a particular empty can. It was bent on one side, little holes pricked in it - it was a makeshift bong. You scoffed at him. This was the star-employee?
“We have the same shirt,” you deadpanned. 
“Yeah, but I like yours better,” he grinned lazily, can now in hand, when he leaned forward to fetch the ziploc of weed. “Nice and tight.” 
“You’re gross,” you spat, brows furrowed. “This is a kid’s establishment, you know that, right?” 
“Ninth graders fuck here all the time,” he shrugged. You gasped, not only because it was an extremely gross fact, but also because that was not what you were suggesting. “I’m referring to the fucking weed in your hand, jackass!” 
“Woah, calm down!” He shushed you, and you might’ve genuinely scared him, because he looked around each window of the booth, light cascading down his tan skin. He was wearing a pair of shorts, and you saw his knee bounce. When he’d secured the area, he turned to you with a hiss: “That’s a secret, woman! You can’t just throw words like that around.” 
“Then maybe you shouldn’t smoke here!” You snapped, but Jeonghan was doing exactly the opposite. Ducking down so it wasn’t totally visible from the windows, he’d placed a little nugget of weed on the grate, and was now setting it alight with Transformers-print lighter.
“This is your first day, right? Trust, you’re gonna end up being high on the job too,” he ended his sentence by placing his lips around the mouth of the can, sucking in smoke.
“That’s such a safety hazard,” you murmured, looking down at him from where you stood. He pulled away, smoke still in his mouth and you saw a twinkle in his eyes from above his falling sunglasses. Then he lunged forward and blew it into your face, a concentrated stream of weed smoke bouncing off your shiny cheeks. “Hey!”
You sputtered and spat, shoulders tense and straining against the fabric of your shirt. Jeonghan settled back down in his chair, legs spread.
“The kids love me! With or without weed!” he said, voice a little groggy from the smoke. You coughed, discontent. 
“Maybe they love you because you get them contact-high,” you mumbled under your breath. Jeonghan grinned at that. 
Suddenly he leaned back in his chair to study you, one hand on the can, the other taking off his sunglasses. He stared up at you with fire-red eyes and soft, long hair and a bemused grin on his lips. Seeing his full face, you gulped under his intense gaze. He was really pretty. Annoying. More annoying than pretty. But still. 
Distantly, kids screamed and a constant buzz of countless conversations overlapped in each inch of the park. Jeonghan reached out a finger and poked your jean-clad hip once. 
“You’re funny,” was all he said, something resembling curiosity in his eyes. “Yeah. Funny girl with the tight shirt.” 
You were going to retaliate (they truly had run out of your size and had opted for this as a temporary option, it wasn’t your fault!), but Jeonghan coughed suddenly, eyebrows furrowing as he sat back up in his seat. 
“Oh shit, should probably stop the ride now.”  _____________________________
You thought about quitting. 
You could honestly say that Jeonghan made you think about quitting, and maybe you would even have brought the plan into action, had it not been for the fact that you had been rejected from just about every other job that you’d applied to. It seemed you were stuck. 
You showed up the next day in your shirt and it felt even tighter than the day prior, and the cap tightened around your scalp like you were a toy in a claw machine. 
Fortunately for you, the park seemed much less crowded today. It was a Wednesday, parents were still working and apparently no one sought out the thrill of scary, old, decaying rides on such afternoons. You admired how much lovelier it was when it was still, as you walked up to The Pirate Swing. 
“Hey, titty-shirt!” 
The loveliness was ruined. 
Jeongan was standing on the railing with someone else you didn’t recognize, long, black hair swaying out from the rim of his cap. He waved enthusiastically, watching your form slump at his words. 
“Hey, Jeonghan,” you muttered, approaching the steps. The boy beside him looked mildly uncomfortable at the interaction. 
“It’s a good thing you’re here, N/n - can I call you N/n?” he didn’t let you answer, simply continued talking like a telemarketer. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re here. Me and my buddy, Junhui, from the Beetle Bug ride were just discussing something that I think is extremely valuable to learn about this place!” 
“Are you gonna teach me about the rest of the buttons?” you drawled, eyes half closed in feigned boredom (as much as you disliked him, it certainly wasn’t boring). 
“No!” Jeonghan snapped his fingers at you. You noticed he had this way of smiling, that irked you. It was void of sincerity and was instead wolfish and teasing, something genuinely animalistic and mean-spirited. It was distasteful.
“On days like these-” he hovers and outstretched hand to gesture to the mostly bare land of the theme park, “- you can steal food from the restaurants.” 
After just one eight hour shift with Jeonghan, you find yourself not even remotely surprised at this. You cross your arms over your chest (Jeonghan’s eyes briefly flick down to them, and you think you might actually hate him): “I have a packed lunch.” 
“Packed lunches are for geeks and nerds,” he said, unbothered. “You can come along if you want to get some delicious, warm pizza, or you can stay here like a loser and explain to every kid that comes by, that you’re not allowed to give them a ride on the coaster and watch them cry until you get fired. Your choice, babe.” 
“Don’t call me that,” you snarled. Jeonghan shrugged with puckered lips and the Beatle Bug guy - Junhui - scrunched his face in disgust at the two of you. 
“Not gonna lie, I’m gonna go find Seungkwan,” he said, not even attempting to hide his dismay for your dynamic. He brushed past you on the stairs, hands buried in his pockets. “If you guys fuck, do it in the bathroom Chan uses!” he yelled, trudging past the pillars that held up the haunted house. 
“Sure thing, Jun!” Jeonghan smiled, and you could punch him. Again that animalistic, joyful, laughing-at-you-not-laughing-with-you smile.
“What if I snitch on you?” you asked, hoping it would knock some sort of sense into him, but he only shrugged.
“Belinda loves me. Whenever she works on Valentine’s day, she cries in her office and I let her rant about her shitty boyfriends,” the visual was somehow not hard to imagine. Belinda in her office chair (you’d seen it once, and all you could say was the interior looked like something from a log cabin) and Jeonghan, 19, feeding into everything she said. “You can say what you want, but she’ll just fire you for making up rumors.” 
Your brows furrowed. “That’s so concerning.” 
“Nothing about this place works right,” he admitted and it was maybe the only time you’d sensed an ounce of truth in his words. “So, are you coming?” 
You hesitated. You really were working up a real distaste for Jeonghan, but talking to spoiled, crying kids seemed worse than anything else at the moment. You decided you could live through Jeonghan’s lewd comments and maybe make friends with some other park workers. 
“Okay.” 
“I knew you loved me,” he teased, and then grabbed your wrist from the top of the steps, bouncing down and pulling you along with him. “Hey!” you yelped, but Jeonghan was, as always, unbothered. 
He pulled you by a narrow walkway into the toilets, passing by a single, confused family, as you stumbled behind him. There was a fountain with a hen figurine on top, which he steered around, your arm jerking limply, as he went down a flower-walkway. 
“You do this often?” you remarked, out of breath from jogging to match his strides. 
“Oh yeah. Mingyu works there and he’s like 16, he lets me do anything,” Jeonghan giggled evilly, glancing over his shoulder once, and you gulped, and hated the way his eyes were so big and pretty, and the way his hair blowed softly along carvings of his cheeks. 
“It’s great that you have so many people here to enable your bad habits,” you said. Whatever sarcasm you portrayed in your tone, Jeonghan ignored it, still smiling when he said: “Right?” 
When you stopped you were standing on the backside of a blocky building - one of the many offers of food you provided, prices marked up to drain the suburbs of their cash. You felt something underfoot, and looked down on the gravelly, rustic pavement, only to see circa 20 cigarettes jammed in between the rocks. You scrunched your nose. 
“What? You don’t like cigs?” you looked up at Jeonghan’s voice, to see him grinning cheekily at you. His eyes sparkled and for maybe just a second it was kind of attractive. 
“I don’t..” you broke off eye contact. “I don’t mind, it’s just.. Is everyone here like you?” 
“Sweetheart,” he tutted, and you nearly flinched at the feeling of his long fingers tapping your cheek, cool on the warming skin. You looked back up at him and he had tilted his head to the side. Why was he being attractive? Why were you finding him attractive? “There’s no one like me.” 
Before you could respond, Jeonghan pushed open the backdoor, the heat of the kitchen simmering out in one brief wind, before it slammed shut behind him, and you were left, alone and dumbfounded on the stones in a mountain of cigs. 
Then you scoffed.
You stood for a moment, letting the fresh air cool the inevitable warmth on your cheeks, huffing (because you were annoyed, you told yourself, not because he had just done something terribly, horribly attractive!) and puffing with your arms crossed over your too-tight-shirt. 
Then you pushed open the door and stepped inside the tiled kitchen. 
The room was filled with steam and it smelled like canned marinara sauce and fake cheese and most of all it was unbearably hot - so hot and humid, you felt the particles of water sitting on the fabric of your shirt. There was a decidedly oversize pot simmering with sauce on a stovetop, and on a hotplate three untouched pizzas sat; one with potato-topping, one pepperoni and one margarita. 
A very tall boy was running frantically around the kitchen, three different kitchen utensils in his clenched fist like claws. Sweat was dripping down the side of his frowning face and red speckled his shiny cheeks. Jeonghan draped himself against the counter lazily.
“It’s just me today,” the boy, Mingyu, cried, “Thomas sent home the other two because there’s no one in the park, but I can’t do this alone!” 
“Seems real stressful, Gyu,” Jeonghan mumbled, leaning on his hand. 
“Yeah, so if you aren’t too busy, maybe you could stir the marinar-” 
“That’s really great, man. You’re doing God’s work. But hey, we’re just gonna-” While Mingyu’s back was turned, the tall boy hunched over the sauce, Jeonghan limply pushed the pepperoni pizza to the edge of the hotplate with a pair of tongs. He winked at you, scooping the pizza into his open palm. “We’re just gonna head out now.” 
“Jeonghan, please help me out and don’t-” 
Mingyu turned around and his tortured expression dropped into one of shock, his tense limbs falling limp at his sides. Jeonghan stood, hand in the cookie jar and pizza in his palm, frozen in front of him with a sort of cartoonish ‘oopsie’-face. Steam clouded the room while you watched from the doorway.
Mingyu’s eyes narrowed and when he spoke again, his voice was lowered in warning: “Jeonghan. We’ve talked about this. Put. The pizza. Down.” 
There was a moment of indifferent silence. Jeonghan contemplated.
Then he nodded, lips pursed and eyes cast down to the pizza.
“You know… I would.. But. Y/N, OPEN THE DOOR OR KNOCK HIM OUT!”
“WHAT?”
“OPEN THE DOOR.” 
You did. Apparently Mingyu hadn’t seen you, because he jumped at your voice behind him, body twisting to see you just in time for you to open the door and Jeonghan came scrambling out of it like a rat. You cannot believe you just aided this man’s crimes, you think, Mingyu’s expression of horror forever imprinted in your retina, before you followed suit. 
However bad Mingyu’s puppy expression made you feel, the rush of adrenaline as you bolted down the pavement under row after row of flowers and sunbeams brought forth something sinister and mean that had you giggling at your evil-doing. Jeonghan was laughing as well, and his genuine laugh was bright and bubbly and very unlike him. 
Mingyu sprung open the door behind you, yelling over your shoulders: “HOODLUMS! THIEVES! YOU’RE LUCKY I CAN’T LEAVE THIS SAUCE.” 
This made the both of you laugh even harder, disappearing behind another building, leading up to the chicken-fountain. You caught up to him, still holding the pizza in his open palms, now sweating and panting in between bright, heart-thrumming giggles. 
“I thought-” you panted, bending at your knees and warding away the image of the betrayed Mingyu. “I thought you said he let you do whatever he wanted.” 
“Yeah,” Jeonghan heaved, cheeks rosy and shiny, as he gently padded over to a bench with the pizza out like the plate in the hand of Oliver Twist. “That’s my bad. I forget he was 16 two years ago and has since then lost all respect for me.” 
This made you laugh. This had your eyes squinting closed and a deep, ringing laugh bouncing up your ribcage and your throat and exploding into the summertime. Eyes closed, you missed the way Jeonghan’s face lit up at that.
“That made you laugh? Self-deprecation?” he asked incredulously, but somehow amazed. 
“Oh,” you cried, opening your eyes and willing your laughter to calm. “I think it’s just the first time you haven’t been baselessly confident and cocky.” 
“Baseless?” Jeonghan echoed, face screwed in poorly-concealed glee.
“Yeah,” you nodded, face also screwed in poorly-concealed glee.
“What? Am I supposed to collect, like, fuckin’ data?” 
“Yeah, evidence.” 
“EVIDENCE?” 
You and Jeonghan went back to The Pirate Swing, splitting the pizza in the booth and every 45 minutes or so, letting guests on when they came by. He was still annoying and in all fairness he’d dragged you into his crimes against humanity. But. He was also a little funny and sweet. 
And the pizza did taste better than your packed lunch. _____________________________
Two days of normal work followed. 
There were too many people to really fuck around, so you and Jeonghan stayed in the booth, and you even managed to pressure him into telling you about the rest of the buttons, as well as the mechanics of the bigger machines. 
Everytime Jeonghan saw you he greeted you with “Hey titty-shirt!”, equally enthusiastic each time. Everytime the clock hands read 8 PM he pulled out his weed and began smoking. Everytime he began smoking he snaked a hand on the back of your leg where you stood (still no chair!) beside him, rubbing the flesh under his palm. You shooed him away half-heartedly, then felt guilty for not meaning it. Jeonghan was a sleazy piece of shit, but his hand was warm and felt nice on your thigh. You liked to tell yourself you were just lonely or something. 
“TITTY-SHIRT!” 
That Saturday you came walking into work, still wearing your shirt and your cap, and was immediately alerted to the fact that something was off; Jeonghan was ecstatic. 
He always had this front of joy and constant bemusement, but you’d learned to read how he yearned for his shift to end - you saw it sometimes when he gazed out of the windows of the booth, thinking you were surveying the kids. That day, he was happy. Genuinely. 
“TITTY-SHIRT!” he called again, causing a family of blonde children to turn their heads in dismay. He paid them no mind, rushing down the stairs with loud, trampling steps, to meet you at the foot of the platform, before you could even settle down in the booth. He grabbed your forearms in his hands and grinned at you childishly. You couldn’t help the small, bemused smile that parted your lips.
“Great fuckin’ news,” he said, “Belinda is fucking gone. M.I.A.”
“Okay?” you grimaced, unsure of what he was getting at. 
“Okay?! Do you know what this means?” 
“No, not particularly,” you mumbled. 
“This whole fuckin’ area,” he let go of your arms to motion vigorously to your part of the park. "Unsupervised. Unaccounted for.” 
“Okay?” 
“Okay?! This means we’re gonna go shoot the shit at the arcade, come on!” He threw a hand over his shoulder to gesture to the arcade area. You frowned and crossed your arms challengingly. 
“Shouldn’t we go take care of our coaster?” 
“Are you kidding me? If no one is working it, people just assume it’s shut down for maintenance. Come on, this only happens, like, twice a year!” He whined, stomping his worn-down Nike sneakers into the pavement and pouting at you. You hated to admit it made your facade melt like an overpriced ice-cream in the hand of a child. 
“Alright, but-” 
“Yes!” 
Without further nonsense, Jeonghan grabbed your hand in his, and began to once more drag you through the park. As you ran behind him, you looked at your interlocked hands and thought, briefly, that it wasn’t too bad to look at. And it felt kind of good. 
“What happened to Belinda?” 
“God knows, I think it was something with her kids.” 
“She has kids?!” 
You and Jeonghan messed around at the arcade - Jeonghan miraculously had been granted the keys to the arcade by Belinda (something about her trusting him?), and unlocked the machines and you played games with already-used coins. 
First was Whack-A-Mole, then the boxing game, then those motorcycle races, and then you played the basketball game.
“I’m gonna beat you!” you squealed, throwing a miniature basketball through the hoop with a small jump. You grinned in triumph when it landed right, punching the air like a dork and turning to him with victoriously glean. 
Jeonghan wasn’t even played, you realized. You’d been so caught up in actually landing the ball in the hoop that you’d managed to forgo the way Jeonghan leaned against his lane, eyes half lidded and shadowed under his cap. You turned to him, now much more aware that you’d been acting like a dork. 
“Uh, aren’t you gonna play?” you asked sheepishly, blushing. You wished you’d missed how Jeonghan’s lips quirked upwards at the sight. 
“No,” he sang, “I think I’m just gonna stay here and watch you play.” 
You narrowed your eyes, suspiciously, and that was all Jeonghan needed before he sighed and shrugged in defeat, like a criminal caught for his crimes.
“Sorry, I just like watching your tits bounce when you get all excited,” he deadpanned. Your mouth gaped open and crossed your arm over your chest.
“You’re so gross, Jeonghan!” you said, now thoroughly uninterested in playing anymore. Jeonghan only scoffed though, to which you snapped your head back to him with an outraged expression. He smiled at you in that cheeky son-of-a-bitch way. 
“Oh, don’t act like that,” he said cockily.
“Like what?”
He laughed, rolling his eyes, letting a small pause linger in the space between you. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes twinkled with excitement every time he said something like this. As hot as he was, Jeonghan was a cocky, sleazy piece of shit and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 
“Like you’re scandalized,” he said simply. You wanted to respond, wanted to defend your honor, but Jeonghan saw right through you, and he took one step forward to speak again: “Like you hate the way I talk to you. You act all innocent and nice and so uptight, but you know what?” 
He took daring steps forward, one after another, until you were half-sat on the basketball machine and he stood, looming over you, surprisingly menacing despite the get-up. The air seemed to suddenly thicken and warm, tasting foul in your mouth. Then he leaned in, eyes glimmering brilliantly with amusement and that evil smile on his lips, breath hitting yours. 
“I think you love being treated like a slut.” 
Fuck.
He was so close to you, body heat rolling into you. You knew he saw the mechanisms of your brain turning behind your eyes, saw the fear when you realized he had seen right through you, and he smiled, and he might as well have had fucking horns.
He tilted his head, and, fuck, if every angle of his face wasn’t perfect. It was unfair. It was so unfair. 
“I-I don’t-” your voice was a meek, half-hearted protest, cut off before you could even begin.
“Yeah,” he laughed. “I think you do. You don’t just let any man massage your thigh, hm?” 
At those words, his hand dropped onto your thigh, finger digging into soft flesh. You mewled at the feeling, causing his grin to spread wider. 
“Oh, poor baby,” he pouted in fake-sympathy. “Am I making you wet?” 
“JEONGHAN!” 
Thank God for Kwon Soonyoung with the impeccable timing. 
Soonyoung was “the pool boy” - he did not work at the pools, but he was the victim of a dunking-machine that was set up in the summertime. Kids and adults alike paid to throw balls at a big, red button that would lower a trapdoor and dunk Soonyoung in ice-cold water. You’d seen it in action and it was pretty hilarious. 
At his voice, you and Jeonghan scrambled apart, his hand flying off your thigh and body twisting to back away from you, and you dropping off the machine and landing flat on your feet, blushing wildly and somewhat out of breath. 
Soonyoung, the poor boy, was sprinting through the park, stopping awkwardly where you and Jeonghan had been standing. He was out of breath and had a wild look in his eyes, like he was being chased by some supernatural monster. 
“Belinda is back! Get back to your coasters!” If he’d noticed your philandering he certainly didn’t mention it, breaking into a sprint again the second the words had left his lips. 
“Shit, thank you, Soonyoung!” Jeonghan yelled, receiving only a limp thumbs-up from the trackstar in response. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and the two of you ran back to The Pirate Swing as fast as your legs could take you. 
Your heart fluttered at your interlocked hands again, and you stared at them, focused on them, as the world became a blurred mess around you. His warmth streamed into you.
You couldn’t even look at him the rest of the shift. Something about his confrontation stirred a mimicking phenomenon in you. Did you want to fuck Jeonghan? You did, you realized, and thus you were unable to raise your gaze from the floor, pressing yourself against the wall to be far enough away from him, that he couldn’t touch your thigh again. He didn’t. He just let your cheeks blaze and pressed buttons and talked to kids, and he even waved at Belinda when she walked by, and she smiled wide and waved back. 
You went home at 9 PM, shirt too tight around your chest, and chest too tight around your heart. You simply couldn’t believe it, because not only did you want to fuck Jeonghan;
You had a fucking crush on him. _____________________________
Having a crush on Yoon Jeonghan was maybe the worst revelation you’d had in your life.
You’d kept all the things you admired about him hidden under the veil of your shirt; he was sleazy and gross and he smoked weed at work and had a certain disregard for child safety. But, and there was always a but, you realized, he was also witty and easy to talk to, and it was cute when he was happy or he got excited about something, and he was so damn charismatic, and you realized you would do anything to see him with that childlike joy again. 
The worst part was that Jeonghan did not like you back. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine him liking anyone. He thought you were hot and wanted to fuck and that was the end of it. All the ways you cared about him were unreciprocated. He did not care to see you happy. He did not care for the twinkle in your eyes when you were excited. He liked your tits in your shirt and was working his fingers up, day by day, to touch you. Yoon Jeonghan did not like you back. 
Three days of work passed, three days of being muted and awkward around him. Jeonghan’s shine was not dulled by your lack though. The kids loved him, Belinda loved him, and he didn’t love anyone back - just let himself be showered in admiration. He was greedy like that. He took all the love and gave none out.
On this particular day, all you did was lay in your bed before work, willing time to stop so you wouldn’t have to go. Legs flopped on top of your bedsheets, work shirt on and cap on your bedside. You waited.
You waited with a metal ball in your stomach, rolling around and causing a ruckus. It rested heavy there, rolling to and fro and grazing your heart from time to time, and it hurt. 
Maybe the reason it felt this bad was because you did it to yourself. Of course, Jeonghan wouldn’t like you back. He was Jeonghan. And yet, you’d had your guard down and his effortless charms had worked their way into your brain. You wondered how many girls had been in the same exact position as you; being graced with Jeonghan’s presence, being smitten by it, and now lying in bed, realizing the admiration would never be bounced back to them. 
You went to work. 
In the damn shirt, you walked in through the staff-door and journeyed towards The Pirate Swing. 
There were so many people that day, you could hardly believe your eyes. The queues were mile-long stretches, and every pathway was spotted with body after body, walls of families, crowds swarming like insects. It was enough to induce a slight panic. 
“It’s good that you’re here, Titty-shirt,” Jeonghan said, when you walked into the booth beside him. He had a bit of a wild look in his eye and he was chewing on a banana. You stood by the door of the booth, looking out at the queue - a genuine queue? To The Pirate Swing? - as the boat swung catastrophically behind you. “We’re fucking busy.” 
You hummed, then turned your head to him. He had sat down, seemingly exhausted and pouting a little. 
“You brought a packed lunch?” you asked, nodding towards the banana in his hand and he looked up at you. His cheeky smile made you want to die. 
“Don’t be ridiculous, I stole this from Seungkwan,” he said and you laughed, and you hated that he made you laugh. The walls of the booth muffled the loud, indistinct buzz and shielded you from the chaos. The flimsy, windowed walls had never felt as intimate. 
“It’s gonna be a shitty day,” you declared ceremoniously. He grunted something in agreement, voice strangled by the now finished banana. Forever himself, he discarded the peel on the corner of the control panel, among his ziploc of weed and empty cans. 
It was a shitty day.
The constant swarming of people, crying children, the non-stop screech of rusted roller coaster tracks; everything brewed together into a pounding headache, as you and Jeonghan hunched together in the booth. Beads of sweat collected on your skin, where the unforgiving sun streamed through the windows. 
Around 8 PM you’d had just about enough. Your head was pounding, you were hungry, and most terribly you were sad. You were sad, sitting next to Jeonghan on the dirty, hard floor of the booth, and you could cry every time he said something snarky and lewd to you. He would never like you and you were a fool for ever letting yourself get attached. 
The day was constant work, constant talking to kids and putting on an energetic front. Finally the crowd seemed to thin out. Slowly but surely, the suburban families returned home and only a few people remained, and the night time glowed soft and warm. 
“Dude,” Jeonghan said, neck craned to look at his phone. With most of the guests gone, he’d finally gotten a chance to waste away on his phone, putting his mouth to his makeshift bong and smoking pot. You kept the booth-door open to let the smoke out. “Wanna go see a crowd of teenagers dunk Soonyoung? Junhui just texted me.” 
You were so tired. Every inch of your body yearned to relax where you sat, cross legged on the metal floor. With dark, sunken eyes and no courtesy left, you simply shook your head. 
“You sure?” he asked, eyebrows raised. You were just tired enough to miss the small frown on his lips. 
“I’m tired, you just go.” 
Jeonghan shrugged then and stood up. He left the bong on the floor and stepped over you to exit. 
“I’ll be back ASAP!” he yelled out, and you didn’t even try to look at him, to call something witty back. You just sat. 
And as if it weren’t the last thing you needed today, just thirty minutes before closing, a woman and her son strolled up The Pirate Swing. You saw them, eyes glazing with worry as you flickered your head to Jeonghan’s empty chair.
“We want a ride!” cawed the woman, holding her son by the hand. You scrambled to your feet, stuttering as you dusted off your pants. 
“Uh, I-” hopeful, you looked around, hoping to see Jeonghan and his long, poodle-y hair somewhere near. The pathways were deserted. “I-I actually can’t-” 
Not waiting for an explanation, the woman clucked once more: “You’re still open, aren’t ya?” 
You nodded, tiredness painted thick and greasy on your face. “Yes, we are, um, open, but I-” 
“Well, then give us a ride?!” 
This woman was going to be the death of you. Why were they even here now right before closing? You closed your eyes, collecting yourself and mustering each ounce of patience you had left. 
“I’m not allowed to because I’m new-” 
“Well, where is the operator? Why are you here if you don’t know how it works!” 
“He’s, uh,” your face fell, “He’s using the bathroom right no-” 
You’re not even sure why you lied. 
“Alright,” she huffed, strained and impatient. “Well, you just ruined me and my son’s night!” 
She tugged her blonde kid by the hand and began to turn around, grumbling with a red face. 
“I’m so sorry, but- it’s a matter of safety-” 
“Next time just say you don’t know how to do your job!” she yelled over her shoulder, mean glare coming out over her shapely glasses. Then she was jiggling away with a pouting child. 
Your mouth fell open in shock. A part of you wanted to be angry - a part of you was angry - but you found yourself weighed down and sliding down the wall of the booth with a much heavier feeling; you were exhausted. 
This was the last straw for tonight, you decided, resolve melting like a dropped ice cream. Booth door half-creaked open and weed vapor in the air, you buried your head in your hands and began to cry. It was small. It was not loud and sorrowful, it was small and petty. Nothing grand about crying on the dirty floor at your workplace. Sniffles and single, wet tears and a quivering lip, all dying out in the soft glow of the fairy light decorating the park.
“Y/n?” 
“Shit,” you lifted your head from your hands, wiping hard on your reddened cheeks. Jeonghan was standing in the open door, looking down at you on the floor.
“Sorry, uh-” 
“Why are you crying?” 
You paused, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt and effectively covering your breasts. Your breath was shaky and snotty, eyelashes coated in tears. Red patches your skin around your puffy eyes, and your lips pressed into a thin line. 
Jeonghan did not look like himself when you looked up at him. It must have been a completely different person, you decided, because his features had  tightened and screwed into an expression you had never even seen a hint of before: concern. 
It looked so utterly foreign on his face - there was always a lightness to his expression, a joking, teasing look, but now he was frowning and his brows were furrowed and his eyes were big and red and round. It made  you feel small and frail. You didn’t like seeing him like that; unwell. But it seemed that feeling was mutual. 
“Um,” you began, voice hoarse and shuddering like a frail old fence-gate, that’s been slammed shut. “I’ve just had a shitty fucking day and- this woman came and wanted to ride and she was just so fucking mean when I told her I couldn’t..” 
Telling it all again made you feel so pathetic, it wracked another sob from you, hurdling past your lips. You caught it in your hand, pressing it to your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut up. 
God, you were pathetic. 
But your heavy, heavy eyelashes blinked open and you looked up to see Jeonghan’s expression softened into something else entirely;
Guilt.
“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. 
“No, it’s fine-”
He dropped to his knees in front of you, now at your level and up close, so you could see every tensed muscle and every strain on his beautiful face. 
“I’m sorry I left you alone,” he said solemnly and for the first time since you’d met him, Jeonghan was merely expressing his regret, not bartering for some sort of gain. His words were dripping with sincerity and it was so strange, you had to laugh.
“What?” he asked, a small grin growing on his face. That was more familiar. 
“I just- I’ve never seen you so serious, it’s okay, Jeonghan, I forgive you-” 
He broke into a laugh as well, rhythmic clucks dancing through the air from the booth, and it immediately cheered you up: he was beautiful and practically glowing, a small rim of light encapsulating him. 
“I’m very serious, I think,” he said. You rolled your puffy, old eyes. 
There was a significant pause. 
Your head lolled over and your gaze landed once more on the makeshift bong by the chair, now abandoned. It reminded you of how different you were. You tried too hard because you liked when people liked you, you were a hard worker, your shirt was too tight. Your shirt was too tight and that’s what had landed you in this situation. 
“Can I…” you trailed off, daring to look at him again. “Can I smoke some of your weed?” 
Jeonghan’s face was practically split in half the way he was smiling. There was something akin to triumph in his eyes, but it was almost fatally overpowered by sheer, bubbling, striking adoration. It made you blush. 
“Of course, babe, I thought you’d never ask,” he breathed, still smiling when he scrambled forward for the bong and stretched out his arm to finger at the control panel, finally feeling the soft plastic and snatching it down to the floor with you. 
“Just put your mouth to the can, baby, I’ll light it for you,” he giggled giddily, scrambling for the lighter in his pocket. 
“I know how it works,” you tried to sound stern, but you were smiling and your eyes were twinkling. 
Jeonghan messily pinched off a nugget of weed and placed it on the gridded holes in the can (which he had pricked with his work badge; “Hi, my name is Jeonghan!”), and you placed it to your mouth, while he held the lighter to it. 
“You’re so hardcore,” he said sarcastically, face close to yours as he flicked the lighter, sending a warm flame onto the can, so the nugget lit ablaze. 
“Shut up,” you said, and then you inhaled and the flame went out and turned into a glow, and warm, crisp smoke traveled down your throat, leaving it sore and burned. It felt great. 
You held it in for a moment, then exhaled, and Jeonghan watched eagerly as your chest rose and fell under the restricting fabric of your shirt. 
You and Jeonghan sat side by side for the last half hour, smoking together, eyes turning red and breaths turning sour and casting laughs into the night air. There was a warm buzz in your chest, a low drum, and you basked in the proximity to him, in how the heat of his body met yours in a fierce battle, at how he caught your eye when he joked, and how he smiled when you laughed. Your responsibilities melted away; your shirt felt looser. 
“We’re closing now,” you hummed after a while, somehow lighter and heavier at the same time. Your eyelids felt heavy and your cheeks were warm from giggling. Jeonghan placed his hand on your wrist, squeezing and tearing your eyes to his. 
“I have such a good idea right now,” he grinned lazily and you couldn't help but echo it. His eyes were red and half-lidded, and his voice was groggy from the smoke. He had run his hand through his hair one too many times and now it was puffier, poodlier than normal. He looked so handsome, you thought, studying the tan from many days in the sun. You figured he didn’t use sunscreen. 
“What is it?” you breathed.
“Come on, come with me!” 
Then the two of you were sneaking from building to building and giggling indiscreetly, two hunched silhouettes becoming one with the backs of buildings. Jeonghan insisted the two of you go to the toddler playground (Sunshine Dance Club, as it were called), because, in his words: “those dumb prick security guards never bother to actually check it”. He pulled you into the pastel green, red, blue, and yellow dreamscape, pulling you up a wooden tower, where you would be shielded by the railing. 
The two of you sat against the railing and waited while a security guard checked the place before closing. 
The mischief had made the two of you even more giggly, scratchy throats producing choppy snickering, as you leaned into each other on the wood, breathing in each other’s air. You liked being so close to him, you thought, and you were almost high enough to just spit it out. The distant stream of light overhead revealed his pores, but you liked those too. 
“Shut up, shut up,” Jeonghan whispered at one point. “I think he might be coming!”
“You’ve said that three times-” 
His hand clasped over your mouth and he fought not to laugh at the surprise in your eyes. Sure enough, this time he was right, as you heard booted footsteps in the distance, and the beam of a flashlight danced across the sloping and bouncing playground. 
You held your breath, not only because you feared, for the first time that night, getting caught, but also because Jeonghan had leaned so close to you, that you could see every stirred acrylic in his eye, every color of brown, swirly sundae. 
Both of you stopped laughing and stared at each other. 
His hand dropped from your lips. 
“I have cotton mouth,” he whispered, footsteps fading away. You couldn’t tell if it was the weed or what, but the air seemed thicker and you felt heavier, like imaginary hands were tugging you down. Jeonghan was no better - you couldn’t quite place the emotion on his glowing face. He almost seemed vulnerable.
“Me too,” you whispered, breathless. 
A pause.
His eyes flickered down to your lips, pink and plush.
“Can I kiss you?” 
You were almost bristling for a moment in pure surprise, before you recollected yourself and nodded eagerly.
“Yeah.” 
You thought his lips would smash into yours; you thought he would conquer you, because that would simply be the most Jeonghan-thing he could, to take what was his, to be cheeky and horny and sleazy.
To your utmost surprise, his hand was shaking when he lifted it, brushing so softly, so gently across the skin of your neck, resting on the back of it, cold from the icy, night breeze. His hand kissed the tips of your hair, and he gently slid it up, breath shaking, as he stared at your lips. Then he leaned in. 
His lips were soft like the bouncy castle on the edge of the playground, so impossibly gentle and flowing and warm. He breathed out shakily against your skin, eyes squeezed shut. Had you seen it, you would’ve almost believed that the kiss pained him, with the furrowed brows, but you didn’t, and it wasn’t painful at all, it was just that his heart was exploding and so was yours. Tender and slow, that was what it was, and you had never thought you’d use words like that to describe him.
A moment of entangled lips, slow making out and warm air covering your skin, his hand in your hair. The Sunshine Dance Club was filled with the sound of spit.
Then he pulled away, breath still shaking, but now, less vulnerable. His lips curled into a smile, spreading that childlike joy on his face. It made you smile as well. 
“That was-” he shook his head at himself, cringing. Then he restarted: “Can I show you something?” 
You chuckled, cheeks heavily flushed and eyes twinkling. “What is it?” 
The cheekiness returned to his eyes, as he scrambled to his feet: “A surprise.” 
And once again the two of you were giggling through the park, this time hand in hand, looking over your shoulders for the security guard that by this time had definitely gone home. The halted steps over the cobbled paths echoed in the dead, empty park. 
It would’ve been a strange feeling - seeing everything closed and dark and empty, every inch usually crammed with people strangely void - had you not been entirely consumed by Jeonghan’s presence. His hand in yours, his laugh, his starry eyes, his face softening when he looked at you.
Jeonghan led you into Belinda’s office (he had a key because he was her favorite, he said), allowing you to sit on the edge of her desk, while he sauntered off into an attached room. You sat there, overhead light dull and buzzing, and basked in the log cabin aesthetics. Your chest was warm.
Then, from beyond the other room, sounding much further away and thereby being much bigger than you had initially imagined the attached room to be, you heard the mechanical sound of several switches. They sounded heavy and important, having a sort of resonance that continued into your room, where Belinda’s desk chair was spun halfway. 
“Jeonghan?” you called, a twinge of worry in your voice. “What did you do?” 
He came jogging back into the office, all wide grinned and puffy-eyed. 
“You’ll see.” 
Once again he grabbed onto your hand, pulling you off the desk and barging out of the doorway.
The night air enveloped you completely, stealing you away from the warmth of the office, kissing your warm skin, as you stood on the cobble. The feeling was so great, you almost missed what Jeonghan had done.
It was beautiful. 
The switches had turned on the lights everywhere. In every color imaginable, illuminating dramatically sloping tracks in the distance, fairy lights on the pathways, signs re-lit, and the whole park before your eyes seemed to have become a disco-ball, sending faint streaks into the star-spotted sky like aurora borealis. 
You, now red and green and yellow and blue, let out a disbelieving laugh, smiling wide. You squeezed his hand, unable to communicate further. There was something about it that left you entirely speechless. It was an inability to overcome and conquer the lights before you - your eyes feasted on them much too eagerly. 
“What do you think?” 
Jeonghan was looking at you. 
“It’s-” you sucked in a breath, trying to compose a sudden sincerity you felt. You looked over at him. “It’s so pretty, Jeonghan. It’s really beautiful.” 
“I knew you would like it,” he murmured happily, body turned to yours. You turned to him as well. 
There was a moment of silence. The two of you basked in the light and in the gentle glow and the cool night, and in each other. 
“Thank you for cheering me up,” you said and pursed your lips. He smiled in a gentle way. It looked nice on him. 
“It’s nothing,” he said, “we were having fun.” 
The conversation lulled again, and while you turned your head back to the light show, the flickering lights and the ombre, Jeonghan continued looking at you. 
You felt his eyes on you, and you turned to him, shyly: “You should look at the beautiful lights.”
He shook his head, lips twisting upwards: “No.. Not right now…” And that was all he said.
The words left a bit of a void in you, like a black hole sunk in your stomach and you turned to him curiously. Jeonghan sensed your confusion, because he licked his lips and gave you a knowing smile, and then explained. 
“I wanna kiss you again, love.”
And his voice was so angelic, such a grave contrast to the boy you’d come to know, but he’d been so strange tonight. Your first kiss had been so tender, now he was looking at you and his pupils were dilated and a smirk spread across his face, and you needed to know something; just one thing, before you threw yourself at him, and gave to him, something you would not be able to take back. 
“Do you just wanna fuck me?” your voice echoed off the walls of the empty park, resounding accusingly. He laughed.
“Of course, I wanna fuck you, baby,” he laughed a little, shaking his head in disbelief. You stayed staring at him, bristling. “You’re hot as shit.” 
“No, I mean,” you paused, because suddenly your heart was climbing into your throat and it seemed like everything you’d worried about was true, that you were just another girl that was hexed by his charms. “Do you just wanna fuck me?” 
His smirk dropped. There was a moment where all you could hear was wind and the electrical whirring of the many, many lights, draining energy from the earth by the second. 
“Do you honestly think I’d do this for just any girl I wanted to fuck?” 
“I-”
“I thought you were smarter than that, N/n,” his lips spread once more in a smile, but this one seemed more fitting on his face - condescending and confident. Whatever vulnerability had hung in the air was replaced by warmer, thicker danger. Was it the weed making you feel this way? On edge or excited?
“I just-” you stammered, feeling bashful suddenly. Did that mean he liked you? Yes, that meant he liked you. You had truly not even considered the possibility, not really thought it through the way you had the negative outcome, so now you were standing and you didn’t know how to respond. A stuttering, blubbering mess of red cheeks and avoidant eyes. “I just- I thought you just- because you talk so much about my boobs-” 
“Shhhh,” he shushed you. The cocky motherfucker actually shushed you, staring you down in a way that made you feel like prey and taking two steps forward, and closing the gap between you. He was so, so close to you, chest inches away from yours and leaning his face down to tilt his head at you. 
“You’re so cute, baby,” he cooed, eyes dancing around your face. 
You and him watched it, as one lean hand lifted itself to your chest, tightly wrapped in polyester-fabric. You sucked in a breath. His fingers lightly grazed it, trailing over the soft plushness of it. Then he cupped it, experimentally, like feeling the weight of it in his hand. You whimpered pathetically. 
“Hm,” he hummed, ripping his gaze from your tits very briefly at the noise, “you sound so pretty.”
In an effort to steal more noises from your pretty lips, his delicate thumb rubbed over your nipple, watching it harden under the fabric with a bemused smirk. Your breathing became heavy and shaky. 
“Can we– please?” you whined, but he only tutted, watching the fat crook under his finger.
“Hang on, sweetheart, I’m having my fun,” he said, nonchalantly, another hand snaking up to your other tit. “Been waiting for this since the first time I saw you.”
You couldn’t help but whimper quietly, his caresses and his intense gaze sending electricity straight to your core. You fingers wrapped around his forearms where they flexed, as he kneaded your chest eagerly. 
“That’s right,” he whispered and leaned into you, eyes half lidded and lips wet from spit. “Be a good girl and let me play with your pretty titties.” 
Then he kissed you again, groaning into your mouth at the weight of your tits in his hands. His groping became more rough and hurried, as he bit your lip and slipped his tongue in your mouth. 
“Fuck, baby, need to get your shirt off, it’s so tight,” he groaned, licking into your mouth. You whined, back arching into his hand. “Poor baby, shirt so tight it’s strangling your pretty tits.” 
“Jeonghan, please!” You cried, putting one hand on his chest to push him away from you. He pulled away, lips red and swollen and cheeks delightfully flushed. 
“Okay, baby,” he whispered, comfortingly. “Okay, okay, I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.” 
You could cry. The way he was touching you so intimately, but refusing to snake his hand down to your burning core, where you could feel yourself fucking dripping. Your body was on fire and your voice was hoarse from the weed that still coursed through your body. 
“Please, please,” you mumbled, and it was desperate enough that Jeonghan pulled his hands from your chest (which took more willpower than he was willing to admit), sliding them over your back and pulling you into him. You nosed into the crook of his neck, sighing happily. 
“Alright, baby,” He breathed, hand in your hair. You felt his neck crane, looking around. 
“Come with me, baby, I know just where to go.” 
You didn’t even have time to whine that you didn’t want to go anywhere, you wanted him to touch you. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and crossed the pathway, and you saw the yellow, lit-up sign for the funhouse before you disappeared into the entrance. 
The first room had a large circular hallway, and when you stepped onto the red plastic, it rolled a little. You and Jeonghan both stumbled rockily, and you nosedived into his chest. He laughed, steadying you with warm fingers on your waist. “Silly girl,” his voice cooed in your ear. 
“Jeonghan, please touch me-” 
“We’re almost there, baby,” he said, and he was being a little annoying, because he’d just played with your boobs and made you so fucking wet that your panties were sticking to your folds, and now he was trudging you through the hallways of a funhouse. You both skiddered out of the circular hallway with much trouble. 
The next room was slanted, and in your intoxicated mind, this was more than a challenge. The whole room was blue and your knuckles became celeste, as you gripped the slanted railing. 
“Jeonghan, I can’t-” 
Not another word out of your lips, before Jeonghan was scooping you up in his arms, walking with seemingly no problem through the room. “Shit!” you yelped when he did so, but he only smiled at you, a mixture of adoration and teasing. He ran with you, his bride, through a black and white doorway. 
The next room was the mirror maze, and Jeonghan’s face lit up at the sight of it. 
“We’re here!” he panted giddily, gently lowering you. You found your footing and looked around, a little speechless at how quickly he’d constructed this plan. There were at least 20 different angles of you, and you cringed at your own disheveled appearance and how your tiny shirt dug into your skin. A hall of reflection, the roof and flooring was pitch black and only you and him existed in the void, copycats at every corner.
You saw Jeonghan in the mirror, walking up behind you. He was smirking, planting his head on your shoulder and peering up at you, as his hands caressed your waist, riding up your shirt and exposing your stomach 20 times over. You hated to say it, but seeing his veiny, big hands on you made your breath hitch. 
“Was it not worth it, hmm?” he sang innocently, blinking at you with a bunched up cheek on your shoulder. His sleazy hands worked the fabric upwards, just under the impressive bump of your chest. 
His eyes flicked over to the most nearby mirror. Breath becoming shaky, his hands lifted the shirt, finally, over your chest, exposing your simple, black bra and the soft skin of your tits. You could breathe easier, without the fabric digging into your chest. 
“Fuck,” he hissed, soft hands immediately dipping inwards to touch over the skin. “Shit, you’re so perfect,” his voice was strangled, all composure gone as he looked at your chest with something akin to wonder. 
You moaned, feeling his dick, fully fucking hard from just playing with your soft mounds, grinding into your ass. Like a horny teenage boy, he moaned shakily, big hands covering your boobs and squeezing, and rutting into you from behind. As much as you wanted him to touch you, you couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of Jeonghan so utterly fucked out, using your body to pleasure himself. It was so erotic, the way his pretty face twisted in place and his fingers dug into the fat of your chest, panting into your neck. Then the sight untangled itself from your body.
“Sorry, sorry,” he was out of breath, removing his hips from your ass. “I got too caught up.” 
“It’s okay-”
He spun you around, pushing your body against the mirror. You stood back to back with your reflection. 
“No, it’s not,” he breathed, working your shirt the rest of the way off hastily. You lifted your arms to help the fabric off. 
You very barely registered Jeonghan snaking your pants off, and then his own clothes. You leaned your head on the mirror and you could finally breathe without the tight shirt, and you somehow felt stronger, not vulnerable like you would have expected. And when your eyes flicked to another mirror and you saw Jeonghan shirtless too, you realized the two of you were much more similar now. 
Jeonghan was standing in his boxers now, and you in your panties. 
“You know, I always thought you’d be more composed during sex,” you mused, returning your focus to him and smiling teasingly, because even now he was transfixed on your bare chest, heaving for air. Jeonghan scoffed, seemingly genuinely offended by this. 
“It’s not my fault your fat fucking rack has been staring at me through that tiny fucking shirt every day,” he spat, and in a sort of retaliation he cupped your pussy through your panties. 
Finally, he touched your cunt, and God, was it worth the wait, because it shot straight through your stomach, even the slightest touch on the cold, wet fabric. Jeonghan grinned cockily at the state of your underwear. 
“You’re one to talk,” he teased. “Your pussy is fucking weeping for me.” 
You moaned and your back twisted against the cold surface of the mirror, as Jeonghan slipped his finger upwards to circle your clit slowly. 
“N-ngh, fuck..” 
“There you go,” he said in fake sympathy, pouting, and even with his hand on your clit, you could almost believe it, because he just looked that angelic and pure. “Finally your greedy cunt has my hand, hm? Bet you’ve been thinking about this since we met.” 
He couldn’t help himself. He trailed his free up to your chest again. It just looked so delectable, unblemished skin, jiggling at every twitch and shake from you, and nipples hardened to pebbles. “I’ve been thinking about you since we met,” he sighed happily, pinching the nipples between his fingers and relishing in your strangled whine. 
Jeonghan slipped his hand in your panties, scoffing to himself at just how fucking wet you were, leaking from your hole like a slut, when his finger prodded at it. 
“P-Please, Jeonghan, please, fuck-” 
Your plea was cut off by Jeonghan’s hand gripping your throat. He smirked at your tortured expression, one hand circling your hole and the other wrapped around your neck, thumb climbing up your chin to rest on your lip.
“What do you want?” he tilted his head challengingly. You gulped, face flushed and baby hairs sticking to your sweat-gleamy face. 
“I-I want you to finger me,” you mustered, building up all the courage you could to hold eye contact with him and his lopsided grin. He raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. 
“Really?” he sang, “you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy?” 
You squeezed your eyes shut. Of course, all those moments of shaming him for thirsting over you. Now you were basically fucking naked, tits perked up from your arched back and writhing under him for just a single finger in your glistening hole. 
“Jeonghan, I’m sorry-” 
His thumb on your lip tugged downwards, effectively muffling your words and shushing you. He watched your pretty lip bend to the will of his thumb, humming. 
“Then say it,” he shrugged.
“Wha?” your speech was slurred by his heavy thumb.
“Say you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy,” he repeated, acting exasperated, like it was your fault for not being able to keep up. Legs spread and utterly naked, you flushed and felt dumb, and you felt even dumber when you began to speak, and his thumb stayed where it was, weighing down your lip.
“I-I wan’ gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up my tight, pink pussy,” you slurred. Somehow the embarrassment translated into a wave of slick exciting your hole and landing on Jeonghan’s hand. He grinned at your obedience, hand pushing up so his thumb entered your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and the rest of his hand cradled your face. 
“Good girl,” he purred, head craned down to look at you, suckling his thumb with wide eyes. He finally heeded your request, two fingers pushing into your sopping heat. “Now suck on my thumb like the good, big-titted girl you fucking are while I make you cum.” 
He was immediately bullying his fingers in and out of you, curling them. Drool escaped where your lips wrapped around his thumb, as you moaned on it, feeling him poke and prod at your tongue with an evil smirk on his pretty face. You saw his dick print straining against his boxers in the corner of your vision.
“Been waiting for this pussy to be mine,” hummed Jeonghan, long eyelashes coming over his eyes when he looked down at you. “You know, if you’d been a little more cooperative I could’ve had my cock in you everyday for the past week.” 
You sobbed around his thumb, panting for air through your nose. His fingers felt so good, pistoning into you and so thin you could feel the bulge of each crooking knuckle churning in and out. His thumb sneaked back up to rub your clit again, and you clawed at his shoulders, trying to stabilize your suddenly shaking legs. 
Jeonghan let out the most erotic, guttural moan you’d ever heard, when he watched drool slip from your swollen, red lips and languidly ooze on your trembling chest. His face twisted in pleasure at the sight of them, becoming all shiny and slicked up from your own spit. 
“Fuck, you’re so pathetic. Can’t believe you’re fucking drooling all over your tits,” he spat, cheeks flushed as he leaned back to look at them, all pretty and slick and glowing under the maze’s fluorescent tubes. He slipped his thumb from your mouth to begin smearing the spit all over your skin. 
Your cunt pulsed around his fingers, clenching and unclenching as something in your belly tightened. You heaved for air, moaning loudly into the maze and practically crying. 
“F-Fuck, Hannie, f-feels s’ good!” you whined, chest thrashing under his needy hands. He lifted his gaze to smile at you, where he was crooked over to look closely at your spit-slick boobs. 
“I know, baby, I know. Cum on my fingers, now, m’kay?” He smiled cheekily, pressing especially hard on your clit. You saw white, orgasm so potent, you almost didn’t even register how Jeonghan dived into your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples 
The wet, smacking of his lips and his pleased humming into the soft skin only spurred on your orgasm, as your cum coated Jeonghan’s fingers. His nose, buried in the flesh of your tit, breathed out a dam of warm air into it. 
His fingers stilled within you, slowly pulling out, while he continued to lap at your chest, warm tongue on your areola. You tried to catch your breath, but it was hard with how he moaned around your fucking tit, sucking and smacking his lips, while holding you to him. You cried out softly when he nibbled at it, to which he finally pulled away, smiling teasingly. 
There was something about the way he was so shameless about it, that almost made you feel even more ashamed, especially when you saw your form in the mirror, and how wet and red your boob was from his insistent sucking. You blushed deeply. 
“You gettin’ shy on me now?” he tapped your cheek, eyes twinkling. 
“Not used to seeing myself,” you mumbled sheepishly. Jeonghan’s ever lust-filled gaze was overtaken with a very deep, fundamental adoration. His smile became genuine - not teasing nor in feigned sympathy. Despite being the sexiest person he’d ever met, Jeonghan found you so severely cute in that moment, all heaved breaths and glossy lips and rosy cheeks.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, tapping your nose. The action would’ve been annoying were not entirely too fond of him at this moment. His eyes wandered, trailing down your collarbones and back to your cleavage. Then returned the lust: “Beautiful, pretty, gorgeous girl with big, bouncing fuckin’ tits.” 
His fascination with them was genuinely insane, but you thought he was pretty and sweet, so you let him marvel.
As if he could never get enough, he reached out one hand and cupped your tit again. 
“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your pretty tits?” Jeonghan asked, experimentally pressing the mounds together and licking his lips at the sight. He had to swallow (and he would never admit this) because the idea actually had him salivating. 
“Yes, Hannie,” you said sweetly, because although you really wanted his dick inside you, he had that twinkle in his eye that made your heart burst, and, indeed, you would do anything to keep the starlight blazing in his pupils. Jeonghan looked up with raised brows - this time, the surprise was not feigned. Swiftly, he grabbed your head and kissed you, deeply and appreciatively licking into your mouth. 
“Good girl,” he murmured, rowing the two of you away from the mirror-wall with his tongue down your throat. “Good fucking girl.” 
He pulled away from you, frantically looking around, and you simply waited for his command. He began to crawl onto the floor, lying down on the hard, sleek black flooring, resting on his elbows. 
“C’mere,” was all he said, and you sat down on top of him, confused. He wantonly pushed you by your shoulder so you rested further down, while he lifted his hip to free his cock. 
It was long and right by your fucking face. 
Impossibly pretty and pink near the tip, it oozed sticky, white liquid, dripping down the veiny side, and now you were salivating, because you almost wanted to take it in your mouth and suck his soul out. 
“Shit,” he groaned, studying your face next to his hard, heavy dick with a tortured expression on his face. It seemed his thoughts had traveled the same road as yours, because when he spoke, he said: “There’s so much I wanna do to you, doll. Give me another couple shifts, I’ll have your cum all over the fucking park.” 
Without another word, he leaned forward and grabbed each of your tits, hovering just below where his dick extended out, proud and tall like a gothic church. You helped by crawling further over his tan body, lying down on your stomach with your chest raised up. 
Jeonghan enclosed your tits around his dick, breath shaking and eyes blinking shut. The sounds he released were angelic, wetting and rewetting his fiery lips, and he struggled to keep his eyes open from the pleasure. He didn’t want to close them though, because the sight of you was insane. 
You were so pretty, smiling in adoration where you laid between his legs. Prettiest girl in the world, he thought, just letting him bounce your fat tits up and down his shaft like a good, obedient girl. Your rack was like a fucking cloud around him, jerking him off and spurting pre-cum on the already slick skin. 
“S-Shit, you’re so fucking- pretty-” he stuttered, breath trembling and face flushed. From every angle he saw you, perfect, pretty, cute and sweet you. Every version of you in the mirror was perfect, he realized, every copycat a perfect picture. 
“You’re pretty,” you mused, wrapping your hand around the lower part of his shaft where your tits didn’t quite reach and squeezing it. Jeonghan moaned, stammering the breathy noise. He gulped then. 
“I-I’m gonna cum, shit-” he sucked in a harsh breath. He could not believe how lovely you were, how witty and funny and sweet and how big your fucking tits were bouncing up and down around his cock. “C-Can I cum on them, baby?” 
“Of course, Hannie,” you obeyed sweetly, watching how he desperately bucked his hips upwards. Squeezing your hand around the base of his cock, you let out a final admission to help him cum: “Want you to cum on my tits, Hannie, want it so bad.”
Sure enough, it was that easy, because without warning long ropes of thick, white cum spurted into the valley of your breasts and climbed up to your collarbones and neck. Jeonghan cried out when he came, eyes finally squeezing totally shut and hips stuttering into your chest. He sounded angelic, even with his voice hoarse from the weed and grunting. 
You let him calm down, waited until his pants turned into soft, regular breaths, and released his now flaccid cock from your cleavage. 
“Oh shit, baby,” he sighed happily. “Come up here.” 
You crawled up to his chest, curling into his open arms and feeling him under your cheek. Your legs entangled on the funhouse floor, mirrors a little foggy from the sweat and the sex. It was perfect, lying in his chest, having him, knowing he wanted you and liked you. Perfectly timeless, you draped over each other limply. 
Or almost perfect. 
You wiggled your hips away from his body, hoping then he wouldn’t notice how you were still leaking from your poor, puffy hole. Jeonghan frowned when you did so, though, both hands grabbing your waist and tilting his head down to look at you. 
“What is it, baby?” he asked.
You looked away bashfully, shaking your head, but Jeonghan gripped your face in one hand, just as condescending as his thumb had been earlier: “You’re covered in my cum, baby. You’re not getting shy on me now. Tell Hannie what’s troubling you.” 
His voice was stern. You tightened your lips the best you could with his hand squeezing your cheeks together.
“I just..” you were embarrassed again, with how your words became muffled and slurred by his flexed hand. He paid it no mind though, looking at you intently to continue. 
“YouweresoprettyearlierIgotwetagain.” 
You squeezed your eyes shut. From beyond the dark void, you heard Jeonghan laughing. You opened your eyes and he removed his hand from your face, instead brushing it through your hair lovingly. 
You were gonna get whiplash with how lovingly he looked at you, how sweetly and with so much wonder and adoration; and how it stood in such a stark contrast to the words that left his mouth: 
“Baby, you just get up and bounce your fat tiddies around a little bit, I promise you, I’ll get hard in the next five fucking minutes. Then you can get my cock in your cute, greedy pussy. How’s that sound?”
Really fucking good.
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cherubify · 25 days
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SERVICE CHARGE / LEON KENNEDY
6.5k words, based on this
cw: waitress f!reader, blackmail, stalker, power abuse, noncon, dubcon, (unprotected) p-in-v, fellatio, spanking, implied cunnilingus, dirty talk, corruption kink, breeding, lack of aftercare, mentions of blood (no bloodplay) / minors dni
a/n: big thanks to @xoxostarlet for beta reading! pls check out her work it's vry yummy! n thanks for 50+ follows!! also i hc this as post re4 leon bcs of my og drabble but it can be di/ vendetta leon too it works even bttr ok bye!!
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Leon’s not quite sure why he’s so taken with you– a girl waitering at your family’s restaurant, a dingy place in the outskirts of the city. Maybe it’s because he’s a simple guy- sees a pretty, little thing and can’t help but fantasise about you. You’re younger than he’d like, but old enough to warrant his wandering gaze at the way your oil stained apron wraps around your perfect waist, at the knotted ribbon you always messily tie that rests on the swell of your cheeks. You’re practically an angel in his eyes, your halo the form of a sloppily tied hair bun that sits atop your head with unruly strands sticking out.
Maybe it’s because you’re quite a character- armed with rather polite comebacks and one liners that you dish out to ungrateful, difficult customers. Of course, you’re so well loved by the regulars (him included) that you barely have to lift a finger to kick them out yourself. Everyone here in this tiny family restaurant loved you, their perfect waitress with the perfect smile. You’re enthusiastic about your mundane job too, fast on your feet and even faster with your words when running through demanding orders.
Maybe it’s because you’re still so young that you have this amount of energy. Or maybe it’s because of the lack of hired hands that you had to work with ten times the amount of energy you should normally exert. He remembers caring more about details and the nitty gritty things when he was your age. But he digresses.
Whatever it is, he thinks you’re quite the charmer. You have him wrapped around your little finger, and he’d like to make it known to you. But the trouble lies in your denseness. You’re beyond saving with how each of his flirtatious comments would fly over your head, soar, even. With how clueless you were, it was a safe bet to assume you were a dumb little girl who had yet to have her cherry popped. Just a silly virgin playing the pretence of an adult.
Oh right, that’s another reason why he’s so taken by you. The idea of ruining you was exhilarating– worth the trouble of driving for half an hour after work to this hole in the wall just to see you. He finds himself wondering how you’d look bent over the tiny bathroom sink in the back of the shop, jeans pooling at your ankles as he eats your cute butt. Oh, how he’d love to unravel you with only a thin door separating you and your customers and parents.
He has to thank his superiors for meeting you. If it weren’t for that random party they held that night, he probably would never have touched this decrepit store. (For him, an hour away from home meant one less hour to kiss his bed.) That night you had introduced yourself as their waitress and patiently guided them through the menu with recommendations.
The waitress before him with quite the looker, pretty despite the mess on her apron and the sweat that clung to the nape of her neck. How old were you? In your late teens– or maybe your blossoming twenties? He searched your eyes for answers, while you tucked your loose hair behind your ear and waited patiently for his table to decide. He made small talk because that’s something he’s gotten good at with the ladies.
“Quite the establishment you’ve got running here.” He commented as he gestured at the rowdiness with his eyes. You snapped out of your frozen daze to meet his blue eyes. Was this hottie talking to you? You swallowed nervously and wrung your fingers together.
“Sorry,” you laughed breathlessly. “It’s always like this after eight til closing hours. These guys trod in here after work and take it out with booze.”
“I can see that. Your parents own the place, hun?” He asked.
“For twenty years. Going stronger than ever,” you nodded. He smiled and asked for your name, and you willingly gave it with a demure smile.
Your name fits you, perfect for an angel such as yourself, he thought. His coworkers paid you little attention in their drunken state; this was their second round of restaurant hopping. Leon had to remain sober to chauffeur them home, and he was glad that he was sober enough to see and not forget you. You wouldn’t become a blurred image, a forgotten ghost in his memories as a result of intoxication. He was glad he was the only one who would remember this encounter.
On the way out, he had an arm supporting his fallen coworker. You held the door open, not minding the men who leaned lifelessly against his car like mannequins. You seemed amused, casual about the blacked out group that left the store blacked out drunk. Must have seen it a lot, he assumed.
“Do patronise us again, Mr Kennedy. Preferably when it’s not rush hour,” you had chuckled lightly.
And if such a pretty girl like you asked so sweetly, who was he to deny you? So he came as often as he could. You were always busy with attending to other customers, barely having enough time to sacrifice for idle chatter. He needed idle chatter, enough to grow your curiosity in him to be interested.
To get your attention, he would pull out a lighter (an expired one of his, a convincing prop) and click it a few times, cigarette pursed between his lips. And somehow, miraculously over the sea of rowdy customers you always heard it. The clicking over the cacophony in the restaurant. And like clockwork, you would storm over to warn him not to smoke inside.
“Mr Kennedy!” You placed your hands on your hips, frowning. Your brows were scrunched up in a disapproving frown whilst a pout played on your lips.
“It’s Leon,” he said while pocketing the bud and lighter. The grin on his face of hardened features made him look way younger– but you snapped out of your thoughts to fold your arms across your chest.
“Well, Leon,” he shivered at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. A buttery sound, gentle but firm like your nature. “I told you we don’t allow smoking in our shop. If you want, there’s a quiet alley beside us for it.”
“I know, I know,” he shrugged, and you’d roll your eyes in feigned annoyance before asking for his order.
You placed his menu before him, and without opening it, he recited his usual. And this cycle occurred over and over again like a broken record. Your reactions were the same, albeit less exasperated each time as you got used to his antics. He could tell– he was starting to grow on you.
He would leave generous tips for you too thanks to his expandable wallet. You know, for the service charge. The first few visits you fought to return the money because even though you were poor and desperate, you weren’t going to accept hundreds like it was nothing!
“Mr Ke- Um, Leon. I really can’t accept this,” you shook your head and pushed the stack of bills to his chest.
“Just take it. For the great service.”
“I really can’t, you always leave me no choice.” You frowned but pocketed it anyway. Couldn’t argue with the man who loomed over you even with a counter separating him from you. It made you nervous, and you lacked the heart to push, unlike with other customers.
“Why can’t you?” The blonde asked as you showed him out. Holding the door with your back, you shook your head.
“My parents already think you’re a mafioso with the amount of money you tip. Anymore and I don’t know what they’ll make of you!”
Aw, you were concerned for him? Little ol’ him? He wanted to swipe a thumb over the pout playing on your plush lips and kiss you. Kiss you and lead you to the alleyway beside your family store and take you then and there. How would you react to that, he wondered? Would you be happy?
He was answered instantly when your eyes lit up at something behind him. He turned to see a beat down Toyota in the driveway, and a skinny guy clambered out with a backpack, books in hand. Your face glowed radiantly. Leon wondered what you saw in that awkward boy. You bid Leon goodbye with a stutter and led the boy in, leaving poor Leon to stand on the porch with a disgruntled expression and stinging in his chest. He knew the answer to his earlier question: probably not, because you already had a thing for someone else.
Leon visited again during one of your quieter shifts. During a weekday, on his time off. You sat in the corner of the store with the same boy while doing homework together. When he said something, your face lit up and you laughed toothily. A genuine, earnest and bright smile. Something he never got to witness, receiving only your customer service smiles when he cracked his best jokes for you.
But he couldn’t bring himself to stay mad at you for long. It couldn’t be helped that you were just a doe-eyed girl who didn’t know how to appreciate him. No matter, he could teach you how. Since you were lacking the brain cells to even try. But first, he had to do something about that boy.
It was easier than stealing candy from a baby. Just a few documents and the boy’s home was evicted. He knew the rest, but as you sat across Leon, face buried in your arms as you shared the story, he listened. It was like playing a video game and being spoiled of its ending. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave your side as you sniffled about your new ex-boyfriend. Your first one, too. He really helped you dodge a bullet, and you should be thanking him instead of ruining his dinner table with your tears. It left a sour taste in his mouth, but he swallowed it.
“It’ll be okay,” he whispered, even though there was no one else in the store but you two. (And your parents as they watched from the kitchen. His eyes met theirs, and they whispered not so discreetly to one another and he smirked.) He patted your head, and you flinched at the unexpected weight on your head. He mussed your hair with a (fake) smile.
“It’s all gonna work out, I promise.”
You looked at him incredulously, brows furrowed. But you nodded anyway. Good, as you should. You need not question him; just listen and obey.
Months easily passed as he played this game of cat and mouse with you. You, the unsuspecting mouse, who had grown to trust him. Fondly, maybe. He knew what you saw in him- a reliable, honest regular who gave you good advice and helped you at times in need. And it was true, from the goodness of his heart, he was at your every beck and call. And he would be forevermore, even if you rebuked him to the depths of hell, where he rightfully belonged.
So one day, when you looked worse for wear, he asked if something was up. You shared with a tired smile that you’ve been struggling to focus in class lately due to the influx of new customers. A food critic had written a blog post about the store and business boomed. He had to find out who the culprit was and take down their site, but that was for later.
He perked up when you shared that you wanted to put flyers around the neighbourhood to hire more workers. So he offered to help. He had a car, so he could spread the word further and get the job done faster than on foot, he reasoned.
“Thank you so much. You’re the best, Leon!”
Your eyes shone with relief and you threw your arms around him. He caught you, albeit with surprise. You showered him with gratitude while clinging to him as he sat, shellshocked in his seat.
Your first hug. Your curves were soft against his hardened one, and his hands itched to hug you back, to trail down your smaller body and feel you through your work clothes. But Leon steadied himself- he had to win the game in the long run, he couldn’t afford to drop out of the race so soon. The blonde retreated his hands and cleared his throat, and you practically crawled off him. Your hand bumped into the tent between his pants, but thankfully you were too flustered to notice.
“U-Um, I’ll pay you back,” you had said, and you offered him a shy smile. “Not that I have much but I’ll make sure it’s worth your time.”
“How about a kiss?” He prompted with a lopsided smile. Oops, that was an impulsive move. Like chasing the king’s piece while neglecting the imposing queen a few tiles away. Said queen being your parents, who stared at you disapprovingly like you had shed your angelic wings for those of a demon’s.
Your mouth gaped open for a moment but then you shook your head. “You shouldn’t tease me,” you whispered, hands rubbing your arms awkwardly.
His face fell, but he recovered with a boyish grin.
“Just pulling your leg. ‘S all good!”
It wasn’t good. His plans crumbled because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Now it was awkward between you two. He found the papers you put up yourself and threw them onto the passenger seat, a messy pile with the share you had given him for his part. He clicked his tongue and shredded the flyers that you painstakingly designed, tossing the pieces out the window as he raced down the highway home in his car. He had to push harder, find other ways to corner you so you wouldn't be able to refuse him. Not again.
Once he reached home, he practically inhaled his shirt, where your scent faintly clung. It was intoxicating, the heat of your body pressed against his and the smell of your sweat mixed with your natural scent. God, you knew how to rile him up without even trying. His cock was painfully hard in his fist as he laid on his bed, stroking himself with his jacket to his face.
When he arrived at the establishment the next day he found you in the back– in the kitchen– where you hung your head in shame while scrubbing dishes. He had caused quite the scene in the store; your father had mustered the courage to warn him (albeit politely) not to lay a hand on his precious daughter. It was quite funny, the man shook like a leaf as he weakly poked a finger into Leon’s chest. It was astonishing and hilarious at how his voice choked whilst dishing out empty threats of what he’d do to Leon if he messed with his girl. All the while your back faced him, unwilling to speak for the next few weeks.
Your parents had taken it on themselves to switch shifts with you whenever he appeared. They practically had his visiting hours memorised too, so it wasn’t like he could waltz in whenever he pleased. They were a pain, an overprotective bunch. For a grown up miss like yourself, it was a wonder why they were still so protective. Probably because they could recognise a wolf in sheep's clothing the moment he walked into their restaurant a second time, eyes prowling until they landed on you.
It mattered not because he would have his way whether they approved or not. He needed no consent form, and not from you either.
Your family’s restaurant was on the ground floor of a little building you stayed in. Your residency was located on the second floor, off limits to customers by a locked door. Nothing a little lock picking could solve, thankfully.
Nobody but you was home, he made sure of that when he saw your parents leave in their car. He wasn’t quite sure where you were, but when the sound of running water leaked into the empty hallway, a smile creeped onto his face. His eyes fell on one door that was coloured differently from the rest. There you were. The door creaked ajar, and he peered from the thin gap to see you standing in a glass box. It was humid, water vapour swirled around the bathroom whilst condensation fogged the shower, leaving him little but enough to see.
The shower was turned off, and your hands mindlessly trailed down your body as you scrubbed it with a loofa. You bent over, reaching for your toes, and Leon almost burst in to take you there himself. The growing tightness in his pants hurt, and hell your perfect ass was beckoning him like a sailor to a siren’s call. You hummed softly, blissfully unaware of the man ogling your flushed, naked body.
He swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he shakily took out his phone. The sound of the camera clicking was muffled by the echoing sound of the shower as you sung your silly song. When he had his fill, he took one last longing glance before closing the door behind him.
Women spend forever in showers. Assuming this, he snuck into your room. It was simple, save for the abnormal mountains of plushies that lined your bed and your shelves. Japanese merchandise everywhere– he recognised a smaller white bear next to a much bigger brown one. Rilakkuma, or something. You had quite the collection. Were you fans of those bears? Should he gift you some? Ah, but your parents would toss them into the fire. As his mind somersaulted from one reckless thought to another, he noticed a laundry basket in the corner of your room.
He sauntered over and peered at its contents with sparkling blue eyes. He lifted your sweaters and produced a white one with a pink bow on the front. Your used panties. His heart hammered in his chest as he held it with trembling fingers. The blonde sniffed the damp patch on the gusset and groaned. His dick was already aching to be freed earlier when he saw you in the shower. Now his balls were clenching and screaming for release.
But it would be a waste to stop now. He didn’t know when you would return. So he pocketed the article of clothing and continued rummaging through your possessions.
He even went through your closet to inspect your collection. What were you into? Did you have a specific brand you frequented? Did you prefer lace or silk? Or cotton, like the one snug and warm in his pocket?
He found a matching set of lace underwear sat in the back of a drawer, a translucent design with roses and ribbons. He inspected it curiously– were you waiting to use them? Were you planning on wearing this for your ex-boyfriend? His lips curled into a snarl. It was a good thing he had gotten the kid off your radar. He couldn’t afford to let anyone see you in such scandalous lingerie. Only he should have the privilege of doing so. His mind raced with thoughts as he traced a finger along the strap of your bra.
Then your door creaked and you swung it open. He turned his head to see you, standing at the doorway wrapped in a fluffy towel that hugged your chest and hung above your knees. Your wet hair clung to your face, rivulets cascaded down your flushed skin. When your eyes met his, you froze. Wide eyes met his.
Uh oh.
Before you could scream, Leon lurched forward and clamped a hand over your mouth. He shushed you softly, mirroring your wide eyed expression.
“I know it looks bad,” he whispered. The force against your mouth prevented you from speaking. You began trembling as his lips inched closer, “But I don’t mean any harm.”
“Mmhmm?!” You mumbled against his palm. He withdrew and you gasped, stepping back while hugging your damp, shivering frame. “Leon, you can’t be here. This- This level is off limits to customers!”
“But I’m not just a customer,” he spread his arms. He slowly approached, footsteps thudding against the carpet, “And c’mon, you like me, right?”
Your eyes were ready to pop out of your skull. “Like you? I mean- Yes but- but not like- Like…” You squeaked as your back thumped against your door. Your hand reached behind and blindly searched for the doorknob. When you finally caught it, the blonde slammed a hand beside your head.
His face inched forward, a frown contorted on his handsome, hardened features. “Like what?” He breathed. You shivered at his warm breath fanning your cold skin. Hesitation paralysed your tongue, and as you struggled to speak, he clasped your jaw with his hand. His questioning, cold gaze was unlike the usual warmth he carried. And it scared you. You swallowed and choked out.
“...Not like lovers.”
A silence ensued between the two of you. The birds outside your window chirped with fervour, as if you weren’t cornered by your customer whom you had grown to trust over the past couple of months. His thick brows knitted tightly against his forehead as he gripped your jaw harshly. You winced, his bruising touch hurt and your hands clawed at his wrist. His nose wrinkled with displeasure as his eyes darkened. He was disappointed, but he couldn’t deny that he saw it coming. Didn’t sting any less.
“So that’s what you think of me,” he spat. Then he smashed his lips against yours and yanked your towel off your body. Your hands flew to his chest as you desperately pushed, a muffled scream on your lips as you resisted. Leon gripped your wrists and slammed them over your head against the door whilst slotting a knee between your trembling legs.
You tried to shout but he shoved his tongue into your mouth and embraced yours in a passionate tango. You couldn’t scream, couldn’t stop him as he shut you up with fervent kisses that sent shocks down your spine. His knee rubbed against your slit, and he bumped into your clit purposefully, eliciting a whine from your saliva stained lips. He pulled away to look at you– and gods, you were so beautiful. So pliant for him, so–
“Help!”
You screamed at the top of your lungs. But your head snapped to the side, and you stared blankly at his shoes. Your cheek stung, pulsating with a dull throb as you placed a hand over where he had slapped you. Tears welled up in your eyes and you refused to look up at him. You tried to run again, but this time he dragged you over to your bed and pushed you down.
Then he flipped open his phone and showed you his photos. You gaped in shock at the hundreds of blurry yet distinct shower pics in his album. The focal point? You.
He met your concerned gaze with a half-lidded one. He spoke quietly and slowly as he held the device over your face.
“You can run, but all it takes is one push and I’ll have this photo publicised everywhere. You wouldn’t want to ruin your parent’s business… right?”
More tears welled in your eyes and your bottom lip trembled with a sob. He hushed you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Lashes fluttered close as your tears slid down your damp cheeks while the water from your undried hair seeped into your sheets. His voice was a broken record as your vision darkened.
“Shh, it’s alright. It’s gonna be alright…”
The rest was a blur. All you remembered was foggy vision and searing skin. But Leon remembered it all. You put up quite an impressive fight for a little girl like you. You had landed a blow in his temple and sent him reeling into your bed frame. But you were too weak to run, thanks to all the love bites he left around your inner thighs and legs that left you tingly and numb. You tried to crawl away, but even then it was pointless.
For the most part, you were pretty compliant. Like the good girl you were, you spread your legs prettily when asked and even nursed his cock with your lewd tongue, eyes glazed with tears and self-hate whilst he ate your pussy out. Hell, the rumours were true. Virgins gave the best head. You let him cum down your throat too, like the good girl you were. Your mouth pussy was so tight that he swore he saw angels flapping above him. And the cherry on top was when he finally hilted inside you, becoming one at last.
You laid quietly on his chest as he stroked your hair. It was damp, unlike your body which blazed with an ungodly heat that only hell could compete with. Your heart thumped in your chest, a rhythm unmatched with Leon’s. You couldn’t see his face, and it was probably best this way.
He was your first– a fact you had to come to terms with. You sniffled softly. Even though he forced himself on you, he still made sure to make it not hurt too much. It was too easy to give in to his touches– so you failed to put up a decent struggle. A single tear slid down your flushed cheek. You hated that he was so gentle yet so cruel with you.
For Leon, you would be his last, because he swore he’d never let go of you. He would make you his. Physically first, emotionally second, whatever the order mattered little to him. Because you were now bound to him, your souls intertwined in ways your bodies could never attempt to achieve.
He stared up at the ceiling. There was so much to do, and so much time now that you were his. Today felt good. Great. Pride glowed in his chest and he kissed your damp hair tenderly. You were finally his. Finally his to take and to train.
“L-Leon!” you squealed, clawing at the sink that he had bent you over. Jeans and panties pooled at your ankles, sitting on your dirty sneakers. Your lips were bleeding because you bit them to stop your screams.
You always had the wildest reactions to whatever he did. Was it because you were a nervous wreck? It’s been barely a month since he started breaking you in. Quite a bit of time to get accustomed to his antics. Looks like you needed more practice, he mentally noted.
“Shut up,” he hissed, rising to his full length to tower over you. His chest pressed against your back, and you whined at the heat pressed between your butt. “Be quiet or they’re gonna find us.”
You held his gaze in the bathroom mirror, and he placed his hands over yours as you still gripped the sink. Your hair had come undone, a mess that framed your flushed face as you panted softly. Goodness, you looked like a wreck. No thanks to the smug bastard behind you.
The blonde took pride in his work and belted out a laugh. A smack on your ass reeled you over the sink again, and you glared at him. Your eyes screamed: aren’t you a hypocrite? But he answered with a boyish grin that gave you butterflies. The damned smile of the devil himself.
His zipper travelled south and he popped himself out of his pants. He stroked it mindlessly before spinning you around so that you faced him. You stared at him incredulously and he gestured with a nod of his chin.
Leon needed no words, you knew what he wanted. Your bare knees hit the sticky bathroom tiles as you knelt, on tiles where its corners were cracked and filled with dirt that religiously lined its crevices. You took his semi-hard on in your little hand, and it twitched to stand at full length. It curved towards his toned abdomen, jumping in your loose hold. The head was flushed, beads of precum dotted the circumference of the tip.
You looked up at him and licked tentatively. He inhaled through his teeth as you gave him puppy licks, teasing the tip with the curve of your tongue while languidly stroking his cock. His hands carded through your hair, pushing back your stray hairs so that he could see you better. So pretty and willing for him, he grinned, and so eager to please.
A broken moan fell from his lips as you suckled on the tip like a baby on a pacifier. He tugged your hair backwards, and you frowned at him but took him in your mouth fully. You swallowed around his length, and it jumped in your throat as he clamped a hand on your head. He held you steady as he thrust his hips, fucking your throat deep and slow like he liked. He was never the kind of guy to rush a process in sex. Not when your mouth pussy was the perfect toy in the world. All for him to monopolise and use.
He chewed on his bottom lip and groaned. “So good. ‘S perfect for me, shit- Good girl. Taking my cock with your mouth so well- fuck…” He babbled mindlessly, drowning in his pleasure as you clutched the back of his ankles. You gripped onto the scratchy fabric with your fingernails and moaned around his length. Suddenly, somebody knocked.
“Hey. Are you there, (y/n)?” Your father called out. You stared up at Leon in terror, but he was too preoccupied with your throat hugging his dick to even care. You gagged when he jabbed his dick against your gummy walls.
You glared at him with teary eyes, and he gestured at your nose- no doubt reminding you to breathe with it. Gently slapping his legs, you tried to free yourself with a warning look. Leon rolled his eyes and called out, “You’ve got the wrong person. It’s just me.”
“Oh-” your dad recognised him, and he hesitated before saying, this time louder. “(y/n)’s missing, I can’t find her anywhere.”
“I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s upstairs,” He grinned as he thrust into your mouth. You gagged again, and he chuckled softly as he stroked the top of your head. “Perhaps she’s taking a shower.”
As if something clicked in you, your eyes widened in fear and you tried to pull away frantically. Not that he’d let you, as he held your head in place from the back, fingers tangled with your hair as he dug his blunt nails into your scalp. A warning to remind you of your place. You complied with a weakened grasp on his pants as you lowered your eyes.
Your father muttered incoherently before stomping away. When a minute passed, Leon finally pulled out and you gasped exaggeratedly, a hand rubbing your sore throat.
“You’re such an asshole sometimes,” you whisper shouted through coughs. The fight in your eyes had returned as you leaned against the wall, pants still pooled around your ankles. The man you mistook for a kind person was truly a wolf in sheep’s clothing all along, a ravenous beast that ravaged you whenever he fancied. You knew that now. If only you had known sooner, then you wouldn’t be stuck in this mess.
“You know you like it,” he said in a sing song voice. You crinkled your forehead as he lowered the toilet seat cover and sat on top of it.
He spread his legs and leaned back. His dick twitched against his stomach. Its length shined with your saliva and blood from your busted lips. Your chest tightened as he coaxed you with the wave of his hand.
“C’mon, finish what you started.”
Your parents were on to the two of you faster than he’d expected. There was one time when he almost found Leon and you in the restaurant’s kitchen. If it weren’t for the locked door, he was sure your dad (if he could muster the strength) would chop his balls off and frame them above his bed like a banner. That was how much he had grown to detest the regular, evident in the way he would wordlessly slam his dishes down on his table. Maybe he knew what had transpired in the toilet that day. How he fucked your ass and brains out in the toilet til you were a whimpering, unthinking mess. The store had to close for the day because of the lack of help on the sales floor.
Your dad even refused the fat tips for his wonderful service. Oh, whatever shall Leon do?
Your mother was also a bit of a tough crowd. Eyes sharp with distrust, always keeping her daughter by her side in the kitchen. Her death grip on the butcher knife would’ve been frightening if it weren’t for her trembling knees when he gazed her way. Maybe she also knew of that one time he made you squirt in your parent's room, coating their bedroom mirror with your shared fluids as he pressed you against it. Quite the overprotective parents they were.
And for the other regulars, they continued fantasising about their lovely waitress. Not knowing that she was taken by a traitor among them, a guy that kept to himself in the corners, lighter in hand as he lured your attention as always. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you always found yourself in his arms time and time again.
Your parents were in their room next door as you sat in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist. Two bodies clung desperately together, wrapped in a sweaty embrace as he cupped your plush ass cheeks in his hands, hoisting you up and then dropping you so you’d slam down on his length. His eyes, muddied with desire, were locked with yours as your tongues fought for dominance in each other's mouths. A pile of underwear, his and yours– the lacey one with roses and ribbons (from ages ago)– were tangled on the carpet indiscreetly.
Your hands wandered up and down his scarred back. The tip of his cock jabbed against your cervix, and you whimpered against his lips. Fingernails dug into the scar on his shoulder, an indented wound that caused him to exhale through gritted teeth.
“Leon-” you pulled away and rested your forehead against his. Your nose bumped into his as he bounced you, “-I love you. I love- mhn… love you so much…”
The blonde could barely hear your muffled words over the incessant creaking of your bed. But he nuzzled your nose, a smile playing on his flushed face.
“I love you too,” he whispered, and he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. “Love you so much, baby.”
He slowed down his ministries and embraced your lips with delicate kisses. With his twitching cock buried in the depths of your sticky, pulsing cunt, you moaned his name and angled your head for more. Your arms wrapped around his neck in a loose embrace as you stayed like this, sloppily kissing while basking in the moonlight that seeped from your curtains.
You grinded your softness against his body, chest mushed on his sweaty pectorals. A mewl fell from your swollen lips as you gazed at him longingly. “More, need more.”
“Fuck,” he inhaled shakily. He swiped his thumb under the crease of your eye. “You’re such a needy thing. Drunk on my cock this quick already, hm?”
“Yeah,” you smiled softly, “‘Cause it’s you.”
The man laughed quietly– he swore there were butterflies in his stomach. They fluttered around in his depths as if he wasn’t currently balls deep in you. God, he was so whipped for you. He was such a lucky man– he didn’t deserve your smile.
He carefully flipped you over and placed you on your knees. You rested your head on the sheets, leaned forward to tilt your butt towards him. It rested on your crack, and a giggle bubbled from you when you wriggled against his cock. A playful smack on one cheek echoed in your room. You would shoot him death glares whenever he did that. But today you moaned into the sheets and smooshed your ass against his torso for more.
Fuck, he grimaced. How did you get this lewd? Oh it was thanks to him. With his ego mightily stoked, he chuckled and soothed the hand mark with another.
Leon gripped your waist with one hand, another spreading your cheeks to get a better view as he slid himself into your wetness. You were always a tight fuck, gripping hard enough to snap him in half, but today’s descent into you had him arching his own back in bliss. It was like you were trying to milk his balls worth, like you wanted a bun in the oven tonight.
You gritted your sheets in your teeth, strings of drool snaking down your chin as your body rocked up and down the bed. Muffled moans rose in pitch as he speared your insides, his hipbone smashing into your jiggling ass with the relentless snapping of his hips. Dishevelled threads of blonde hair hung over his tightly lidded eyes, bouncing as he chased his high.
“Fuck fuck fuck. I love you. You’re mine-” he rambled as he slammed into your womb punishingly. “-Gonna breed you with my kids. You want that? Fuck, say you want it!”
Tears welled up in your eyes as you babbled his name brokenly. Garbled ‘yes’s fell from your quivering lips, and he snaked a hand under you to slap your clit with his calloused, scarred palm. You gasped and he shoved your head into the mattress when you cried his name in pleasure. A few more slaps and you were trembling like a leaf, your upper body totally collapsed onto the bed like a used doll. Your walls gripped him tightly, ripping out a deep moan from Leon. Then he pressed his hips flushed to your quivering butt and emptied his seed into you.
The warmth in your belly was comforting, the heat spread to the rest of your body as you hummed softly in approval. You collapsed entirely on the bed, and his dick slipped out with a soft sound. Stained with rings of cream, it hung limply between his toned thighs, and you weakly crawled over to run your tongue along one of its veins.
Leon’s cock twitched on your tongue. Amused, he took his phone and snapped a picture of you. He held the screen beside your face, gazing at the matching blissed out expressions you carried in both. He pushed your hair behind your ear as you nuzzled against his leg. Your eyes began fluttering shut, and he gently adjusted your limp body so that you laid down beside him. He pulled your blanket over the two of you and held you flushed to his chest. Your breathing slowed to a steady pace, and he pecked your forehead with his lips.
You deserved a bigger tip the next time he visited. For your generous customer service. He made a mental note and closed his eyes, too tired to care about the rattling of your doorknob across the room.
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all content written by @puppyina ! do not repost, edit or plagiarise. requests are open for any past written characters.
649 notes · View notes
grugruel · 4 months
Text
Wicked Game
Pairings: cop!bucky x f!reader
MDNI/NSFW
Masterlist
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Summary: An out of control college party gets crashed by cops, someone tattled, and a cop chase ensues.
The chief is an old friend of your family, who you'd always had a crush on.
Thinking he's harmless, you talk back. But he can only hold back for so long.
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: reader is 20, pinv sex, rough sex, oral sex (m and f recieving), choking, uniform kink, sir kink, reader being bratty, bucky doing something about it!! edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, handjob, fingering, pet names (girl, doll), praise (yay), mentions of masturbation, slight marking, degrading ish? cum eating, creampie, power dynamic, some soft!bucky at the end.
AN: This is not a Lee bodecker fic! This is just regular, muscly cop!bucky.
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Blaring music and thumping bass fill an already crowded house, drunk daredevils otherwise inhabiting it.
God, my skull feels like it's about the cave in. The average college experience in other words.
I'd been drinking the least out of my friends, yet I felt the worst. They sat on the couch around me, trying the wide assortment of drugs that were splayed out in front of us. Littering the table along with various hard liqour bottles, all mostly empty.
Drugs arent my forte, but I wont nark them.
The party had only been going for an hour or so, I think? My lockscreen told me it was 2 in the night, holy shit? It had been 5 hours.
How the hell had no one called the cops yet? Little did I know, how badly I jinxed myself.
'Guys, Guys.' I lazily shrugged the shoulders of two of my friends sitting on each side of me, 'We- we, gotta go.'
'We're fine!' One of them drawled, splaying out on the couch.
I shook my head, head thumping in each bend, 'Theres literally. . .' I paused, searching tiredly for the right words, 'Uhm- No way! That the cops arent on their way here like, right now.'
'We've lasted this long.' The other said, shrugging his shoulders, grinning.
I groaned, 'Fine!' And threw my hands up in defeat, my friend observed me smugly. He held up some coke for me, raising his brows in question. To which I shook my head again.
A sharp alarm cut through the music, everyone groaned, heads complaining at the sound. I figured it was something with the sound system, but no.
I just had to jinx myself, remember?
As my ears adjusted to the sound, I realised. It's sirens, two or three. Cops.
'It's the fucking cops!' I shouted, alerting everyone. The music cut off, and the sirens clarified into the deafening sound of jail, or curfew. Depending on the cop. I was hoping and dreading the Chief in equal amounts, he could take it easy on me, or not.
I roused my friends, dragging them up from the couch and filtering them through the backdoor. Along with at least a hundred other people our age.
My attempts at freeing them had made me lag behind, one of my friends grabbed my arm, 'Come on!' She shouts, trying to pull me with them. But theres to many people between us and she loses her grip, swept away by the crowd.
The front door swings open behind me, and I freeze. Slowly turning around, I see a tall, broad shouldered figure standing silently observing the chaos from the doorway. He stepped inside, searching the crowd, and eventually. His eyes land on me.
'Give em' hell. Get the ones you can!' He barks the orders at his men, and then his eyes narrow in on me. Staring me down, 'And leave this one to me.' His words make my skin crawl, in fear of my parents finding out and possibly, excitement?
I wouldn't say no to punishment dealt by Chief Barnes.
His men rush past me out the backdoor, leading me to back up slowly. Placing the Coffee table between me and the Chief, securing myself somewhat.
Slowly, he stalks forward. A slanted smile growing with every step that he takes, making chills run up my spine. His uniform does him good I notice, shirt and pants sitting around his muscles perfectly. Belt and gun? Hot.
'Heeey, Buck.' I smile cheapishly, 'Fancy meeting you here.' Testing the waters, seeing what chances my charms have of easing the situation for myself.
He nods, raising his eyebrows in response and grins in spite, as if answering, "I'm sure it is" and "You're in deep fuckin shit now."
I laugh nervously and try again, 'I didn't know you enjoy college parties Buck? Or just, college girls?'
Amused, he steps closer, It's now only the table separating us. I step up on the couch behind me, desperately trying to make up for the space I'm losing. He puts his hands around his belt buckle, smirking. At least my incredibly funny self seems to have softened him.
He looks down, studying its content, then looks back up at me. His face turns displeased, undoing all my previous hard work to humour him.
I follow his gaze, looking at the table myself, and it dawns on me, 'No no no no!' I throw out in panic, 'Listen, Buck. . .'
'What could you possibly have to say-' he began and lowered his head, giving me a serious look, 'To get yourself out of this one?' referring to the table.
'I can think of a few things, I might have an ace in my sleeve.' I smirk. Metaphoricly speaking of course, my blouse does not have long sleeves.
He takes a firm step closer, a bemused look on his face, 'Ok Ok! It's not mine! It's not, mine.' I gesture to myself, then to the table in erratic motions. 'I'm an innocent bystander, I just sat on the couch. Never even touched the stuff.' I hold my hands up, palms out. As if it would stop him.
'Theres nothing innocent about you girl.' He tells me sternly, the corner of his lip tugging.
Stunned, there's a sudden flutter in my stumache.
Suddenly, the energy between us change. The tension grows and the look in his eyes turn hungry, like a hunter watching its prey.
'Pinky promise?' I ask, shrugging cheapishly.
He takes a few quick steps toward me, rounding the table. But I run to the end of the couch, making sure that the table is still between us. Butterflies surge through my body, giddy from excitement. This is the most fun I'd had all night. 'Buck, let's- lets be civil about this, alright? Let's just talk.' I giggle.
He chuckles, 'Oh, you think this is funny?'
Nodding, 'Kind of, yes. . .' I tease.
'We're far past talking.' He breathes, 'Had I been anyone else, had I not known your parents, you would've been in cuffs by now.'
My eyes turn mischievous, 'Whats stopping you?' I tilt my head, 'I assure you, I wouldn't mind.' And grin.
He chews the inside of his cheek, then charges, and I run, swivelling to avoid solo cups and various balloons on the floor. I hear his footsteps behind me, catching up. My agility is nothing compared to his raw muscle and speed, but I swerve into the kitchen, adrenaline kicking in. And manage to take cover behind the kitchen island.
Bucky grinds to a halt, slamming his palms into the counter, catching himself against it. Once again, im in safety. For a while at least.
'Youre gonna have to be faster than that.' I pant, grinning. He meets my eyes, pure animalistic tendencies behind them. The look on his face has me biting my lip, I couldn't wait for him to catch me. 'C'mon Chief.' I purr.
And somethings in his eyes ignite at the word, oh?
'Chief?' I test and he grunts, eyes glaring at me through his eyebrows. Naturally, I delve deeper, 'You feeling quite alright. . . Sir?'
He tilts his head with a jerk, then laughs 'You've done it now.' Those are warning words. Then he jumps, sliding over the counter.
'Holy shit!' I squeek as I take of running, narrowly avoiding his grasp. I run through the house with Bucky right on my heels, nothing but the the thrill of the chase keeping me going.
I run out by the backdoor, then stupidly enough, take a right. Into a garden, a fenced in garden. The high type of fence too. I regret my decision the second I see notice it, but its to late. Buckys steps slow behind me, and I slow to a stop myself as I come face to face with a dead-end. 'Oh, fuck me.' I breathe, absolutely exhausted.
'Famous last words, doll.' He cuckles between pants.
I turn around and smile through the pain, 'Ha ha! Funny guy. What. A funny. Guy.' I clench my teeth, sighing.
My eyes lock onto his frame, hands on his hips as he's catching his breath. Mesmerized I stare, men in uniform, huh? Im starting to see the appeal.
Slowly, he begins walking toward me, prowling like a tiger. He grabs hold of his belt, pulling it upward to adjust his pants.
God damn.
My uterus is aching, my entire body is aching. I would've drooled if I hadnt come to my senses, escaping. Right.
I make a break for it. In one quick motion, I turn around and jump. Grabbing hold of the upper ledge of the fence and pull myself up, my feet scrambling against the wood to find some sort of purchase. But im too slow, too focused. I didn't even hear him come up behind me, but I did feel his big hands on my waist.
He yanks me down and pushes me toward the fence, his body flush against my back. I gasp and he digs his fingertips into my waist, making sure I don't escape again. His touch makes me yearn for more, I want it deeper.
He levels his head with mine, leaning in close to my ear. Close enough to feel his hot breathing against the skin on my neck, 'I got you now.' He whispers, making my skin prickle with goosebumps and setting of a pulse deep below my stumache. But I wasn't willing to give up just yet. With my hands free, I pry his own from my waist and turn around, pushing him back by the chest.
Now. . . The intention was to push him hard enough to give me space to run past, but. . .
He barely budged, he grabbed my wrists and pushed me back against the fence, pinning my body between the wood and himself. Wrists in hand, he anchored my arms to my sides by grabbing onto the fabric of my skirt. Rouching it, he helt the flesh of my ass under his fingers.
I laugh nervously, 'You're not gonna tell mom and dad are you?'
He just chuckles, fuck im truly, in deep shit.
I try wriggling free from his grip, but he holds my wrists tighter, carefully slamming them into the fence above my head and leans against me. Leaving zero space for me to move, every curve of our bodies complete the others, I swear I can feel his bulge against my hip. He moves his face closer to mine, needing me to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. When I do, a self-satisfied smile covers his lips. His face inches from my own, we were basically sharing one breath as his lips barely brush over mine. 'You gonna be a good girl for me and behave?' He asks, breathing heavily.
I whine, he can't possibly turn me on more. 'Depends.' I say.
''Yeah?' He practically whimpers.
I close the distance between our lips, but he pulls back and smiles, teasing me. I meet his eyes and we look at eachother intently, as if entranced, I cant break contact.
He lets go of my wrists and traces his hands down my arms, all the way down to my hands. Chills run amock over my body, I close my eyes and lean in again, but suddenly-
I hear a clasp, then another and I can just feel him smirk against me. My eyes go wide and I realise, 'You didn't.' glaring at him.
'I did.' He laughs, 'What made you think you were in a position to negotiate?'
I look down and sure enough, cuffs bind my wrists together. Shocked, my mouth falls open. I didnt even feel him reach for them.
He backs up and grabs my arm, pulling me with him. 'Could you at least let me off around the corner from our house?' I ask as we make our way toward his car, he glaces down at me but doesnt answer, 'So they dont see me get dropped off in a cruiser, you know?' He opens the front door for me, and helps me inside, 'And maybe avoid talking to them for a few weeks, you'd really be doing me a favor, Buck.' And without a word, he closes the door and walks around to his side. Getting in and driving off.
The first portion of the ride is silent, he'd done what he had to, to catch me. Damn.
Luckily for me though, the party was a long way from home. Meaning I have some time to devise a plan.
I look at my cuffs, carefully observing them. Hmm. . . I yank my hands apart, trying the strength of the schackles, hoping the sound would gather his attention.
This was a game of chance, a game of seduction and persuasion.
Gently, I tickle the skin on my upper knee, 'I really didnt do any drugs y'know.' tracing back and forth with my fingertips, acting somber. Then lay my hand flat against my thigh, squeezing it absentmindedly. Continuing with rubbing small, firm circles with my index finger into my skin and turn to look out of the window.
Bucky clears his throat. The reaction I was looking for, perfect.
I spread my legs slightly, letting my hands slide down either side of my thigh. Clasping them together underneath and slide them up along my thigh. The skirt catching on my cuffs, revealing more and more of my-
-his hand flies to my thigh, hooking the cuff over his thumb and squeezing my flesh. Keeping me from showing anything more. Fuck, my core is throbbing from that alone.
'Buck?' I ask innocently.
'Dont' he croaks, voice sounding pained.
'Sorry-' I pause, glancing at him carefully. His eyes are fixed sternly on the road, 'We could talk about this like adults you know, make a deal.' He squeezes my thigh harder, I lift one hand with the restricted movements of my cuffs and caress his fingertips, 'A real good deal, benefitial for the both of us' I suggest.
'You talk too much for your own good, girl.'
'I'm not quite sure what you mean, Sir?. .' I bite my lip as he looks over at me, meeting my eyes through my lashes. 'You wouldn't tell on me to my parents, would you?' I ask, giving him my best puppy eyes.
He looks away, sitting silently until the next exit comes up. He flashes his indicators and turn off the main road, parking in an empty clearing.
'You want a deal, doll?' He asks, looking straight ahead. Sliding the cuffs off his thumb as his hand travel downward, fingertips sliding under my skirt, knuckles brushing over my clothed clit. Lust flashes through my nerves, and I gasp.
'A deal, or you. Both sound good to me.' I whisper, on the edge of my seat. Eagerly awaiting his answer, waiting for him.
He looks back at me, meeting my eyes with a fiendish grin, 'Then put that big mouth of yours to use.' He orders.
Nodding enthusatically, I lean over. Unbuckling his belt and zip down his pants, I reach into his boxers and fuuuuck, my hands barely fit around him. I pull him out and pull my hands to my mouth, wetting my fingers before returning them. One hand carefully stroking small circles around his tip, while the other strokes him up and down in cylindrical motions along his shaft.
The chief of police bites his lip, muffling a whimper as I move faster, 'Uhh- mmm. .' He hums, 'Yes- yes, doll. Fuck. .' He stutters.
Such a strong man crumbling under the touch of a woman, it was turning me on like nothing ever has, the power I hold is surprising.
His fingers move under my panties and slide along my slit, making it my turn to moan. I Buck my hips to give him better access, and he dips his fingers inside me. Pumping them slowly as he's getting them wet, then slides up to my clit, circling around it. 'Holy-' I gasp, 'Shit.'
We buck our hips to the others touch, leaning against the other, shoulder to shoulder, temple to temple. Moaning breathely. Our lips finally meeting in a needy kiss, tounges moving with the rhythm of our bodies. 'Please, doll. Be a good girl.' He begs between our lips.
Fuck me, that heartbeat in my utherus spread in pulses through out my entire body.
I grin and pull back. Leaning over, I carefully lick the leaking cum off his tip clean, then take him in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around his head, licking greedily. Tasting the salt of him. I push deeper, sucking his length into my mouth. The sloppy sounds of saliva and lips were vulgar inte the most intoxicating way. His hand continues massaging my clit while the other snakes into my hair, grabbing a fistful and aiding my movements. Helping me set merciless pace.
Bucky groans, our strokes growing in greed as we close in on our releases. He shoves two big fingers into my core, curling at just the right spot. Pleasure surge through me, leaving me to stuff my throat with his member, muffling a scream as I topple over the edge. I feel him come right after, my mouth filling with his seed and hearing his moan of completion. The bitterness of salt waa overwhelming to my tastebuds, I swallow what I can and pull myself off.
Leaving a sloppy mess around my mouth, I sit back and smile. Breathing heavily as I regain my strength, Bucky looks at me and laughs, 'You got something right here.' gesturing circles around his mouth, reffering to mine. I wide my mouth clean with my thumb and suck it off, Bucky smiles proudly at the sight. Then brings his own fingers to his mouth, sucking my juices off of them.
Heat ignites within me once again.
Bucky cups my face with one hand and pulls me into a kiss. The tastes of eachother mixing, I can't quite tell what is what. But it's wonderful. Bucky pulls free and looks at me, I give him a hazy, expectant look. He strokes my cheek with his thumb and slides out of the car, walking around to my side. I furrow my eyebrows as he helps me out of the passenger seat. He pulls me to the hood of the car, pushing himself against me until the back of my legs hit the grill. He leans in and whispers against my ear, 'Still need to punish ya.' He drawls, a shiver running through my spine.
'Im begging you Chief.' I look at him thtough hooded, lustfilled eyes, 'Please punish me.' I groan, smiling.
His dick twitched at the word, making him close his eyes to keep his composure. Then suddenly bends down and finds purchase under my knees. In one swift motion, he pulls, and I fall back onto the hood, 'Wanting it defeats the purpose, doll.' He growls, then opens his eyes. But the sight before him makes him unravel.
Upperbody bent to the side in an effort to prop myself up on my forearms, thanks to my cuffs. Skirt over my hips and legs spread, core exposed and ready for him.
'Do you worst, please. Sir. . .' I whisper and grin.
His eyes snap to mine, and that "You're in for it now.' Expression returns, 'Fuckin brat.' He spits.
Then, he kneels. He fuckin kneels. A shiver runs up my spine a the sight, 'Some punishment, huh?' I ask, but he only smirks. Hooking my legs over his shoulders, and grabbing each thigh to keep them spread, then, without warning, he dives in.
I bite my cheek to stop myself from screaming, pulses of pleasure run through me like electric currents. He pushes his tongue inside me, feverishly licking at my juices, exploring my walls, burrying his face in my cunt. Nose pushing up against my clit, making my back arch deliciously. 'That all you can do?' I tease, grinding my hips against his nose, desperate to get some friction. But his eyes meet mine, glaring as he moves his hands to my hips, holding me steady.
He pulls back for a second, just to spit on my cunt, then hastily returning, chasing my clit. I gasp, burrying my cuffed hands in his hair, pulling him closer as I want more. Making him moan against me, his voice vibrating against my clit. My sight blurs from the pleasure, a knot tightening inside me 'More.' I beg, 'So close.'
His tongue slide out of me, and I whine. But he licks a stipe up my cunt and then attatches at my clit, sucking and nipping at my sensitivity. My body jolts, and I shut my eyes. 'You gonna cum?' He asks, voice muffled.
I can barely answer, pleasure overwhelming me as white specks my vision, 'Ye- yeah. . ' I moan, 'So close, ju- just like th-' I begin, about to reach my climax again, but suddenly.
He let's go, pushing himself off of my clit with on last lick and sits back on his heels, watching my unravel.
'No, please, Buck.' I squrim, whining at the loss of him. I try to pull him back, but he doesn't budge. 'I'm begging, please, please.' I whimper, closing my legs and pushing them together, moving my hips for any sort of friction to finish what he started.
'Mouthy brats dont get to cum.' He chuckles and grab my knees to pull them apart. I feel a tear roll down my cheek as the knot loosens again. In a last desperate effort, I pull my hands from his hair, burrying two fingers in me while my thumb rubs my clit. Just for a second, that exctatic feeling returns, blissful sparks ignite, until- he pushes his body between my legs to keep my thighs in place and grab my wrists, ripping them from my cunt. Then laughs, he laughs.
'Not funny.' I whimper.
'It is. . . Im not done even done yet.' He says, face glistening with my juices.
I fall back against the hood groaning, as the ache in my core reaches my bones. 'I need you so bad.' I whisper.
'What was that?' He asks.
'I need you. Buck please.' I whimper.
'Can't quite hear you, doll.' He mocks, hands squeezing tighter around my wrists.
'I fuckin need you inside me, ok?' I almost shout, 'Fuck me, hard. I'm begging, jus- just need you in me.'
'Yeah?' He laughs, standing up. Hooking his hands under my knees and slide me closer to him. His hand trace my skin to my waist, getting a tight grib. Then, in one smooth motion, he flips me to my stumache.
I can't help but gasp, 'Think you can act like a brat all night, and get away with it?' He asks, smaking my ass once. I yelp, the sting making my eyes water in the most delicious way. He lines himself up with my entrance, pushing on it slightly. His tip breeching.
'Please.' I whimper, muttering a string of curses. And without warning, he shoves himself inside. Again, I bite my cheek. Pleasure rolls through me, electrocuting every nerve. He grabs my hips, sinking his fingertips deep into my skin. Silently, I beg for them to leave bruises. Theres nothing hotter than a souvenir to remember him by.
He sets a hard pace, thrusting deeply. Pulling back almost all the way before forcefully pushing himself inside again, over and over. My brain doesnt function, I can't form words, all I can do is moan. The sound of slapping skin perfectly lewd in my ear. 'Harder Buck.' I request.
He leans down, grabbing my throat and pulling me flush against his chest, pushing his nose into my cheek, 'Yeah? This not enough for you?' He asks, grunting in my ear.
'Not enough, more.' I mewl.
His hand tightens his grip around my throat, cutting off just enough air to give me a dizzying euphoria. His other hands come down on my ass again, smacking hard as he thrusts deeper. Then re-grips your hip, using it to push and pull your, making our bodies come together even harder, 'Greedy girl, cant fuckn get enough huh?' He groans between breaths, hot against your skin.
I shake my head, the only answer I can manage as I feel my walls twitching, closing around him. He can feel it too, his hips stutter, throwing his thrusts of balance. He bites my ear, lightly tugging on it before kissing my cheek gently, then kissing down my neck.
A stark contrast to the rest of his movements, it's enough to make my head spin. It's almost too much. I feel the blinding pleasure threatening to spill inside me, 'You wanna cum girl?' He asks against the crook of my neck. I nod my head enthusiastically. 'Words doll, use your words.' He breathes.
'Ye- Yes, please.' I manage, 'Wanna cum so fucking bad, Chief.'
He grunts, hand slipping from my throat to my breasts, working them roughly. Palming, squeezing, pinching 'C'mon, cum for me doll.' He says between pants and immidietly, I topple over the edge. Pleasure blinding me as he continues thrusting, continues to assault my breasts. My body begins spasming, and my knees go week, 'Bucky. . . Fuck-' I groan, but he holds me up. All my senses feel like they're about to burst as he prolongs my orgasm, stretching it out in an exhuastingly wonderful way. He bites down on my shoulder, squeezing my breasts, muffled grunts escaping him as his own body spasms and his thrusts halt, his member finally filling me with seed.
He collapses on top of me as we catch our breaths, im so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.
I close my eyes for a second, but doesnt register Bucky pushing himself off of me, or him gathering me in his arms and laying me in the backseat. I don't feel him wrap his jacket around me, or the ride home.
But I do rouse from my sleep as Bucky carries me into my room and lays me down in my bed, he kisses me on the forehead, 'Hey doll.' He whispers, a soft smile on his lips.
I panic slightly as I realise that I'm home, 'Mom n' dad?' I ask anxiously.
'I made a good excuse, don't worry.' He strokes some hair from my face, 'Sleep. You need it. I'll go easier on you next time.' He promises.
'Next time?' I ask, a tired smile covering my face.
'Next time.' He assures, and you drift back to sleep. He stands up and walks to the doorway, silently watching you with admiring eyes as he carefully closes the door.
He tells your parents a made up backstory and they understand, happy to see him. They invite him to dinner next weekend and he happily accepts, he'd do anything to see you again.
He thinks about you the entire car ride home, in the shower as he beats himself off and in the morning as he wakes up with a hard on from dreams off you clenching around him.
He can do nothing but count the days until he sees you again, guranteeing himself it will be a memorable occasion.
864 notes · View notes
beskarandblasters · 20 days
Text
Red Wine Supernova
No Outbreak!Abby Anderson x F!Reader
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Ways to help Palestine
Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist
Author’s note: Inspired by Red Wine Supernova by Chappell Roan!
Summary: You move to a new neighborhood where you run into Abby at the gym. You start seeing more and more of her until the both of you can’t take it anymore— you need to take it to the next level.
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied and wears a skirt, no outbreak AU, drinking, smoking weed, kissing, Abby’s a FLIRT, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), sex toys, edible lube, pet names (baby, pretty girl), no use of y/n
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs
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A new neighborhood. A new beginning. You aren’t thrilled that your landlord decided to raise the rent but it meant you got to move to a new area, a much cooler area. For example, you’re walking distance to a gym. But now you also have roommates. Whatever. You’re not too old for roommates yet. 
And you had to swap your king-size bed for a twin mattress since your new room is much smaller. 
Whatever. It’s cool. 
You win some, you lose some. 
-
It’s been a week since you’ve settled into your new apartment. You’re walking to the gym, looking to sign up for a new membership. Maybe meet some people in the neighborhood. Fifteen bucks a month? Not bad. 
The worker hands you a little chip to keep on your keychain and you’re on your way. You put your stuff in the locker room and head back out to the machines, opting for a treadmill first. 
Your eyes wander between your phone and the TV’s on the wall. Until your eyes linger on something— someone else. 
Long hair in a braid. No bra. Your type.
She just finished bench pressing. And… she caught you staring. 
She smiles and gives you a small wave. You look away quickly, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. 
After a beat, you look at her again. She’s walking to another machine. She’s hot. And not to mention so fucking buff?? She’s wearing a dark gray muscle tank. Her biceps are peppered with freckles, glistening in a fresh layer of sweat, and pumped up from her workout. 
Before you know it you’re tripping over your own feet, stumbling a little on the treadmill. Guess you were ogling her too hard. 
If she’s a regular fixture at the gym, you’ll be more motivated than ever to work out. 
-
It’s Friday night. You’re waiting in line to get into a club. Coincidentally it’s also just a few blocks away from your new apartment. It’s a little chilly, the nighttime breeze makes goosebumps prick your thighs. You’re wearing a miniskirt and go-go boots, glitter on your collarbones, ready to dance the night away. You’re here with one of your roommates, Sam, who agreed to come with you even though clubbing isn’t really her scene. 
When you get inside, you spot her again. The girl from the gym. She’s wearing a t-shirt this time and the sleeves look like they’re ready to pop from her muscles. Fuck. 
She’s on the dancefloor, laughing and having a good time. You notice the way her nose crinkles when she’s smiling. You hope she notices you. Or maybe you don’t. It’s hard to tell. Your stomach is swirling and your knees feel like jelly. But why? You haven’t even said a word to each other. 
Sam notices you staring and follows your line of sight, giggling to herself when she notices who you’re looking at. 
“You know her?”
“I’ve seen her around before but I couldn’t tell you her name.”
“What do you… What do you think of her?”
“She’s cute!” She scans the room and finds the bathroom across the way, turning and telling you, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Shoot your shot!”
And with that she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. You look back at her, your little crush, and notice she’s with a few friends– two men and two women. You hang back and make your way to the bar, ordering a vodka soda and trying not to be too obvious about watching her. 
You failed. Because she makes eye contact with you and smirks. One of her friends, a woman, whispers in her ear. And before you know it she’s coming over to you. Shit. Shit. Shit. 
“Hey!” she semi-shouts over the music. 
God, she’s so fucking hot. This is the first time you’re seeing her up close. There are more freckles across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. Her hair is in the same braid as before and you’re wondering if that’s her signature look. 
“Hi!” you semi-shout back. 
“I’m Abby!”
You tell her your name and she says, “Nice to meet you! Are you new to the gym?”
“Yeah! I just moved to the neighborhood!”
“Sounds like you need some friends in the area. Let me introduce you to mine!”
“Okay!”
You down your drink and set it on the bar. She grabs your hand and leads you to her friends on the dance floor. You learn their names are Manny, Owen, Mel, and Nora. They’re all really nice. Owen and Mel seem to be in a relationship. The six of you spend the rest of the night dancing. But you can’t seem to get over the fact that Abby grabbed your hand. 
Sam comes back out from the bathroom and Abby introduces her to the group. You spend the rest of the night dancing and drinking until you close out the club. You stumble out onto the sidewalk and bid goodbye to Abby and her friends. She pulls you in for a hug and butterflies flutter in your stomach. 
Is this real life??
“Catch you at the gym!” she says before letting go and waving goodbye, leaving with her friends down the street.
“You guys are cute together,” Sam says. 
“You think so??”
“So cute I think I’m gonna throw up,” she laughs, starting the walk home. 
“That’s from the drinks!” you shoot back, stumbling home drunk and giddy. 
-
Ever since that fateful night at the club you start running into Abby more and more. The place you see her most often is the gym. But you also see her on the street, at the grocery store, and even at a gas station one time. Each time you guys cross paths you make small talk, talking about the weather, what TV shows you’re watching, what movies are out– the minor stuff. But you’re dying for a chance to get to know her. 
You’d get your wish soon enough.
-
It’s another typical day at the gym. You’re running on the treadmill. Abby’s lifting weights. She hasn’t noticed you yet but you’re too shy to say hi first. 
Eventually, she spots you in the giant mirror lining the perimeter of the gym and swiftly comes over to you. You take your earbuds out and set them by your phone on the treadmill. 
“Wanna come to my place tomorrow night?” she asks, cutting right to the chase. She leans against the treadmill, smiling at you. 
You slow your pace to a walk and say, “Sure!” startled by her forwardness but welcoming it all the same. 
She grabs your phone off the treadmill and opens your contacts app, typing in her phone number and address. Your cheeks heat up at the bold move. 
“Is seven okay?” 
“Fine with me,” you choke out. 
“Okay,” she says, placing your phone back on the treadmill. She throws her hand towel back over her shoulder and says, “See you tomorrow!”
But before she walks away she pants a swift slap on your ass. 
You yelp in surprise followed by a giggle. You swivel your head to follow where she’s walking– to the locker room. And she’s laughing to herself. God, you’re done for. Head over heels and you haven’t even spent any time alone together yet. 
-
Tomorrow night rolls around and you opt for a skirt again. You look over your appearance one more time in the mirror before setting off into the night, punching her address into your phone. She’s only a fifteen-minute walk from your apartment. 
As you walk there the apartment buildings shift into houses and you realize that she most likely lives in a house. Impressive. 
She’s waiting on her front desk for you. She waves and calls your name, a lighter in her hand. 
“Hey! How are you?”
“I’m good! How are you?” God, you’re so fucking nervous.
“A lot better now. I rolled us a joint. Do you smoke?”
“I did a little bit in college.”
She hands you the joint and you put it to her lips, leaning in for her to light it. You inhale, turning your head away so you don’t blow the smoke in her face. But you start coughing and feel a little embarrassed. 
She chuckles a bit and takes the joint from you, telling you, “Take it easy! Especially if it’s been a while.”
She gestures to the bench behind you and you take a seat. She sits beside you, the outside of your thigh touching hers. She takes a hit, exhaling the smoke effortlessly, without coughing. Your palms grow sweaty and your mouth grows dry. She hands the joint back to you and you take a much smaller hit this time. You already feel yourself loosening up and getting more silly. And soon enough, you’re laughing with each other. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s wearing a smirk. She turns towards you and asks, “What made you move to the neighborhood?”
“Rent went up at my old place,” you say, handing the joint back to her. 
“That’s too bad. But at least it brought you here.”
“Yeah,” you say, looking around at her large deck and the front of her house, “How’d you score a place like this?”
“My dad left it to me when he passed.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be!” she takes inhaling. She exhales the smoke and continues, “It happened a while ago.”
“Tell me about yourself. What do you like? Got any hobbies?” you ask, trying to change the subject.
“I like going to the gym,” she shrugs, “But you know that already.”
“Mhm,” you say taking your turn to smoke now. 
“I collect coins.”
“Really?”
“Yeah… Is that surprising?”
“A little. But it’s cute,” you reassure her. 
“I like magic,” she snickers.
“Hang on,” you say, stifling a laugh, “Like doing magic?”
“No! Like watching it.”
She laughs, taking the joint back from you and bringing it to her lips now. You’re really feeling it now and you know that if you stood up you’d be stumbling a bit. 
“I can tell you about magic,” you say, leaning in as she taps off the joint in the ashtray on the table beside the bench. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm, I’ve got a wand and a rabbit.”
“You what??” she laughs again. 
“You know like… like the toys,” you say, realizing your joke didn’t quite land.
She laughs even harder now, head thrown back and her nose doing the cute scrunchy thing again. 
“So it was funny?”
“It was funny,” she affirms, handing the joint back to you. You finish it off and toss it in the ashtray, leaning against the bench and feeling giddy.
“Can I tell you something?” she asks. 
“Shoot.”
“I want to fuck you.”
“You do??” you say excitedly, inching closer towards her. 
“I do,” she says, looking into your eyes. Her eyes are red, pupils blown wide. You can only imagine how you look right now, “But maybe when you’re not blasted.”
“That’s fair,” you say. 
“But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kiss you right now,” she says, leaning forward and closing the almost nonexistent gap between you two. She kisses you, soft and intimate. Her lips are plush. She smells like a mixture of whatever perfume she’s wearing and weed. God, this can’t get any more perfect. She reaches a hand up your face, caressing your cheek. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you’re in disbelief this is even happening right now. 
Her tongue brushes against your lips so you part them to let get gain access. Her tongue explores your mouth and pretty soon you’re moaning into her mouth, complete putty in her hands. She tears away from your mouth, kissing down your jawline and onto your neck. 
“You could come over to my place tomorrow night,” you say. 
“Mhm,” she says against your skin.
“I’ve got a California King, you know,”
“Mmm, I bet,” she chuckles.
“Okay, maybe it’s a twin bed… And I have roommates.”
“Baby, I don’t care,” she says, just before sinking her teeth into your neck. 
That elicits a deep moan from you, louder than you were expecting. She keeps going, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin before licking the mark she just made. You place your hand on the back of her neck and the other holds onto her braid. That does something for her because she moans into your neck, holding you tighter. 
She pulls away and says, “Let’s not get carried away for tonight.”
You sigh and agree, leaning against her shoulder. 
“I’m glad we met,” you whisper.
“Me, too,” you whisper back.
-
Once you’ve both sobered up a little bit she walks you home, your hands brushing against each other’s as you walk. She waves goodbye, watching to make sure you get inside safely before leaving. You stumble up the stairs, still feeling a little high and giddy from the evening’s activities. 
Once you’re in your room she texts you and says, “Same time tomorrow?”
You reply, “Sounds good!” before throwing your phone on the charger and flopping onto the bed, staring at the ceiling with a wide smile until you eventually drift off to sleep. 
-
It’s the next day and when you eat breakfast at the kitchen table this morning you learn that both of your roommates will be out tonight. Perfect. 
Sam’s going out with her boyfriend and Bri’s working a double. If all goes right, you’ll get to be as loud as you want… on your twin-sized mattress, of course. 
You spend the day cleaning your apartment and showering, getting nervous the closer it gets to seven. She texts you when she’s on her way and now it’s game time– the moment you’ve been pining for for what feels like forever. 
You wait downstairs for her and her face lights up into a big smile when she finally sees you. She’s wearing her classic dark gray muscle tank and jeans, hair pulled back into her signature braid. She greets you with a hand on your waist and a kiss on your lips. 
“You ready?” she murmurs against your mouth. 
“Born ready,” you respond, kissing her again. 
You lead her up to your apartment and into your bedroom. She takes a look around your room before her eyes land on your bed. 
“This is the famous California King, huh?” she chuckles while picking up a bra you forgot to put away. She tosses it on your chair and turns back towards you. 
“Listen… I used to have one.”
“That’s a shame,” she faux sighs, “But I’ll make you scream regardless of what size bed you have.”
“Oh,” you say, cheeks heating up.
“What are you waiting for? Strip for me, baby.”
You nod eagerly and take off your t-shirt and bra, kicking off your sweatpants. 
“Now where’s this wand and rabbit?” she chuckles.
You walk over to your nightstand and open the drawer, taking out your bag of sex toys and lube. She sits at the foot of your bed, rifling through the bag while you lay down, body shivering with anticipation. 
“Ready for me, baby?” she says, holding the rabbit and a bottle of edible lube in her hand. 
“Mhm.”
She squirts a dollop of lube in her hand and spreads it on your pussy. It’s cold and makes another shiver run down your spine. She turns the toy on and slowly inserts it inside you. A moan hitches in your throat. She kneels in between your thighs, hand still on the toy, and lowering her face above yours. 
“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”
“Yes,” you breathe, already wanting more. She has the toy in the lowest setting. 
“You want more, don’t you?”
“...Yes,” you admit.
“Ask like a good girl.”
“Please Abby… I need a higher setting.”
She grants you wishes, turning up the setting on the toy. Vibrations run through your core and against your clit. You’re in a state of bliss, eyes fluttering shut. But Abby grabs your chin and says, “Eyes on me, pretty girl.”
You maintain eye contact with her, mouth falling open into a soft O. 
“How do you feel?” she asks.
“So fucking good.”
“Are you close?”
“...Almost.”
She turns up the toy to another two settings. And you’re getting closer to the edge now. You’re excited to cum but you also want her to make you cum, whether it’s from her mouth or her fingers– whatever she pleases. 
“Cum for me, baby,” she coos, head cocking to the side. 
You cum hard, walls clenching the toy and your whole body spasming. It’s intense and she keeps the toy flush inside you as you cum. Your moans are loud and incessant. And now you’re especially thankful your roommates are gone for the night. 
“Good girl,” she praises, turning off the toy and bending down to kiss you. 
“That was amazing,” you breathe out.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Well, you’re far from done.”
Your cheeks heat up and your body shudders. She pulls the toy from you and lowers herself so her face is in between your thighs. She licks one long, slow stripe up your cunt, tasting the mess you just made. She’s gentle at first. She knows you just came. But it doesn’t take long for her to lick her fingers and insert one inside you. 
“So wet for me, baby,” she says, curling her finger slowly against your g-spot.
“Mmm because you take such good for me,” you sigh.
“That’s right,” she says, latching her mouth to your clit. She expertly swirls her tongue around your clit and inserts another finger inside you. You’re sent into a state of euphoric bliss, body tingling with waves of pleasure. 
She moans into your cunt, eyes closed with her lashes fanned out against her face. She’s well on her way to taking your second orgasm from you. Your cunt tenses up in anticipation of release, pulsing around her fingers. She opens her eyes and looks up at you. Your chest rises and falls as you pant. Your hands grip the sheets for purchase. This one feels different but better, all thanks to her. 
“Abby, I’m gonna-” you start but you cut yourself off with a moan. You writhe on the bed, back arching and stars swirling in your vision. Abby wraps her free arm around one of your thighs, keeping you in place. 
You cum for a second time, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. She continues to suck your clit and finger you through your release. Your moans and whimpers are loud, no shame in hiding them. And now you’re starting to feel spent. But even still she’s not done with you. 
She pulls her fingers from you when she’s done, placing them in her mouth and sucking off your wetness. But soon enough her face is back and buried in your cunt. 
She stays there, lazily lapping up your release and pulling a few smaller orgasms out of you here and there. You lose count of how many times you cum tonight but you’re not complaining. 
Eventually, when she’s decided you’re spent she lies beside you, resting on her side and looking into your eyes. 
“You did such a good job for me, coming that many times.” 
You go to respond but instead, you yawn. She sits up and takes off her clothes, lying beside you again and pulling you into her. 
“What about you?” you ask sleepily. 
“You had a big night,” she says, “Besides we can always do more in the morning.”
“Okay,” you respond, snuggling into her, “Goodnight, Abby.”
“Goodnight, baby.” 
486 notes · View notes
notiddygxthgf · 7 months
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★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader
★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).
★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.
★ a/n: hi pookie dookies!! ive been wanting to write choso for a while!! this is a one shot I split into two chapters bc its like, 11k words.... but! if u guys request it, I might add more chapters!!! thank u for ur support as always, muah muah!! (btw if u like tokyo rev go check out my other shit teehee).
★ w.c.; 4.5k
best friend's brother ; chapter index
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YUUJI ITADORI WAS truly the best friend a girl like you could ask for. The two of you were kind of like childhood friends, though you hadn’t been close for a good portion of it. You didn’t remember the exact day Itadori had invited you into his home – though you knew it was some time in elementary school. The two of you had been practically inseparable ever since. 
There was one thing about the pinkette’s home life in particular that seemed to catch your young eye. 
His older brother, Choso.
He was two years your senior – dark hair, dark eyes, he looked nothing like his brother. He had this scar over the bridge of his nose from an accident that had happened when he was younger. He was an elusive figure, something of a mystery to your young mind – he was always there, but never there.  
He was content to dwell in the background like some sort of side character. 
The first time you’d ever met him had been at one of Itadori’s baseball games. He’d invited you to show up – and at this point you had to have been no older than 8 or 9 – and show out for him. And show out you sure did. 
You had your mother do your hair up real nice in those cute little pigtails you used to love wearing. You had scribbled his jersey number onto a plain white tee the night before, donning some hot pink leggings beneath.
And you screamed for Itadori, cheered as loud as your little lungs would allow you to. He won, of course, but that’s not the point here. You’d gone up to him after the game, wrapping your short arms around his frame – and at the time he was no larger than you were – and telling him he’d done great. Itadori grinned at you, faint blush dusting his cheeks, and thanked you. His smile was a thousand suns in one.
A hand on his shoulder had shaken the two of you out of the moment. A bigger hand.
It was his 11-year-old adoptive brother, Choso Kamo. An angel of the darkness, as corny as that sounds, but in that moment you swore the gates of heaven resided in those dark eyes of his. He stood out against the bright backdrop of the September afternoon. The sunlight filtered through his short black hair, reflected off of his pale skin, shooting rays right into your stomach and sending a horde of butterflies fluttering.
“This your girlfriend, Yuuji?” He commented with a half-grin.
You remember turning red at his comment, waving your arms around wildly. You remember the way his eyes creased as he laughed at you, one of the few times you recall seeing him laugh.
So what if you had heart eyes for your best friend’s older brother? It was harmless, just a little crush you had formed on the guy you felt had stolen your heart away. Harmless. 
At least, it was until the two of you grew older. You started junior high, you started puberty , and as your body changed, so did his. So did your feelings, morphing from a butterfly crush to something more akin to desire as you began to see him in a different light.
He lost the baby fat around his face. His eyes had darkened, shoulders broadening. His hair got longer, falling into his boyish, scarred face in a way that rendered you entirely breathless. 
He was becoming a man.
You were 13 and 15 now, stealing sneaky glances at him whenever he would pass by his brother’s room. Yuji, who had just been boasting about how he was starting to get taller than you, would pay it no mind.
It was just a crush. He was two years your senior, after all. You had no chance.
You were 13 when he would poke fun at you and his brother. He was 15 when he would laugh at the way your face would go red. He didn’t know that it wasn’t his brother you wanted.
14 and 16 when you first began to notice the subtle slope of his shoulders become more pronounced, more defined. When you began to notice the way his muscles would strain against the sleeves of his tee shirt. 
He had always been a large guy, having hit quite a few growth spurts along the way. He had to have been about 5’10 at that point, practically towering over you. But lately, you thought he must have been hitting the gym. He would walk past Yuji’s open door – and in their house it was a family policy to leave the door open when you came over, even if Yuji was only a brother to you – with gym gear on. He would come back with sweat-slicked hair plastered to his forehead, chest rising and falling steadily.
Something about that made your hormones go wild for him. Inappropriate thoughts began to chew away at you from the inside, images of what he could do to you with such strength, even if you weren’t too certain what ‘doing’ even entailed at that time. The scent of his pheromones, something like that – or maybe it was the way his gym clothes hugged his body while he marched towards the bathroom to take a shower – it made you feral for him.
He was so much bigger than you now. It made your head spin with feelings you didn’t quite understand. It was just a crush… so why did you stay awake at night imagining him panting over you, sweat trickling down his bare chest? The way his muscles might ripple under your hesitant, inexperienced touch? The warmth that would bloom over your face when you imagined his lips on yours – this man who you had never gotten close to.
A man who you remembered having a late night conversation with in the kitchen while Yuuji slept right down the hall one night.
He was ransacking the cabinet for snacks when you found him. He relaxed once he’d noticed it was you, the two of you eventually falling into sugar-fueled conversation after he cracked open a pack of double-stuff oreos. A conversation about the taboo , about the things you had been told to keep quiet.
“You don’t have to be all flustered ‘round me, y’know,” He had told you rather softly. The two of you were separated by the kitchen island, but it felt like he was way to close to you. “You can ask me anything you’re curious about.”
“I’m not curious!” You had whisper-shouted back with a roll of your eyes. “I don’t want to know about your sex life, you whore.”
“You just asked me what it felt like, liar,” He noted, quirking a brow at your outward reaction. He loved to get under your skin. Lived for it. “And for the record, I’m not a whore. Most of the times I’ve been touched have been with my own hand.”
“I’ve never tried… that, ” You mused quietly, head low. Your face burned with the heat of your admission. 
He popped an oreo into his mouth, dusting his hands off carelessly. “What, masturbating?”
Your heart did a weak somersault. “Quiet!” You hissed at him. “Now what if Yuuji heard you talking to me like that?”
“Calm your shit,” he told you. “You’re too young f’me. Relax.”
He only chuckled at your words, shaking his head quietly while he resealed the oreos. Still, if he was thinking anything about your reaction, he didn’t voice it. You were glad.
But it hurt. It hurt, hearing him talk about you like you didn’t have a chance. Like none of the effort you put into your appearance around him had any effect on him because you were too young to steal his attention away. None of it mattered – the push up bras, the low cut tanks, the cherry lip balm. 
In his eyes, you were only a kid.
“I’m a virgin,” you had blurted out, for some odd reason you still didn’t quite understand.
The pause that befell the two of you was one that you remembered years later. 
“I can tell,” He had said, slim waist swinging side to side as he walked around the kitchen island, towards the exit behind you. He sauntered over to you with a smirk on his face and a plate in his hand, dark hair pulled back into a bun while his layers fell around his face. He was breathtaking, handsome, tantalizing build towering over you.
16, A man whose voice had dropped again in the last few months whispered those words, the ones you would never forget, “‘S fun. You should try it.”
You didn’t know what he had wanted you to try – having sex or performing it on yourself.
Either way, that night when you went home was the first time you ever tried to touch yourself. Fantasized about him whispering in your ear, holding you down, talking you through – while your pink-manicured fingers worked you up to your first orgasm.
Two years had never felt so far apart.
Choso had a girlfriend at one point. It was only for, like, four months – he was 17, you were 15. You only found this out when he’d come home after a pretty rough night with her. He looked pissed, lips pressed into a thin line, arms crossed over his broad chest.
You knew he was too old for you, that you weren’t old enough for him, more specifically – but, still, you batted those lashes of yours up at him while you asked him what was wrong.
You didn’t tell him about the way butterflies erupted in your stomach like a hundred angry guisers when he told you his girlfriend had cheated, left him for another man. 
You hugged him instead, telling him that it would be alright, telling him that she never deserved him anyway. You were the one for him, and one day he would see that.
Instead of turning to you – who had been right there all along, he had just been too blind to notice – he took his anger out on everyone else. He became cold, emotionally closed off. He became a serial heartbreaker. 
For a while, whenever you came over to Yuuji’s, his bedroom would be vacant. Open, dark, just as he had left it. For a while, he would spend his nights with faceless hookups and meaningless dates. Itadori would call you to complain about it, about how “we’re home alone for dinner tonight and Choso just walked out”.
Your heart broke, too. He just didn’t know it.
He didn’t know you were waiting for him to come to his senses, for him to see you as a woman .
You were seated in the kitchen across from Itadori enjoying another late-night snack, sharing some hearty laughter. You had always adored your conversations with him, the ‘After-Hours’ talks, as you would often refer to them. 
Your night had taken an unexpected turn when Itadori’s brother burst through the kitchen door with a giggling girl in tow. The late hour suggested that this was no ordinary visit.
Still, even though you couldn’t pry your eyes away from her, you didn’t say anything. You stayed quiet while your heart shattered into one hundred million pieces inside of your tight chest.
Itadori’s laughter had died down, giving way to an awkward silence. He greeted his brother with a smile, “Hey, bro. Who’s she?”
Choso shrugged, dark hair shifting over his eyes that seemed to glint beneath the dim lighting as he replied, “Company.”
His mischievous tone and the girl at his side left little to the imagination. Your cheeks flushed as you exchanged another quick glance with Itadori.
You felt frozen in place. You couldn’t move. No, all you could do was sit there like a dumbass and stare at him, watch the man you loved liked guide her by her hand up the stairs. 
Of course. You had been naive to think that he would wait for you. He would be 18 next year. 
He was out of your league.
Feeling the need for a momentary escape, you had excused yourself, muttering something about needing to use the bathroom. You had stood up, heart racing, and made your way up the stairs and towards the bathroom.
Conveniently, of course, it was located just down the hall from Choso’s room.
You crept down the hall slowly. As you passed by his door, you caught a sound. Something unmistakable – two people in hushed conversation uttering words in between kisses. 
“Choso, baby.” 
Another quiet kiss. Their lips separated.
“I’m ready.” 
“You brought protection?” 
Your embarrassment grew as you realized the intimate nature of the encounter happening on the other side of the door. Quickly, you averted your gaze, face burning, and ran off to the bathroom.
It took you a moment to catch your breath. You couldn’t believe the awkwardness of the whole situation. Shit, you didn’t even know how to approach him after this.
Worst of all, you didn’t even know why you were still only able to imagine it was your voice behind that door instead of hers. That it was him pressing butterfly kisses to your lips. Him asking you if you were ready for him.
With your cheeks tinged a rosey hue, you resolved to keep yourself locked away in the bathroom until the thoughts subsided.
It seemed like it was a new girl every time you came to visit. A blonde, a brunette – he didn’t seem to have a preference. Every time you would watch him walk another girl to the front door, bidding her safe travels on her way home, your hope would wither away.
But the feelings never subsided. No, even when you would spend a little more time walking past his room on your way to the bathroom to eavesdrop. Not even when you would hear hushed whispers and quiet moans from the other side and imagine what kind of lover Choso would be. Would he leave marks? Talk dirty to you? Was he a giver or a taker? 
Not even when the two of you would cross paths in the kitchen after his plans for the evening went home. He would turn to you with a knowing smirk, hair down and messy even though it did nothing to hide the red and purple love bites that littered the valley of his neck. 
And he looked so good that you often found yourself wishing it was you who had left those marks. 
It was as if he knew you were dying inside. Like something was beginning to change inside of him after all of these years. Like he took some strangely cruel pleasure in showing off to you.
No, you would have to remind yourself in vain. I’m too young for him. 
You were just a girl in his eyes. That’s what you maintained.
So you went out and retaliated by losing your V-card to some kid from your class. Well, in your head it was retaliation. He was none the wiser about it, but it gave you a sense of satisfaction knowing you were able to fuck people who weren’t him. 
Take that, Choso. 
Yuji groaned, laying spread eagle over his carpeted floor, arms spread out on either side of him. He had grown so much – you could hardly contain the way your eyes wandered from his pretty face to his new physique. Like his brother, Itadori was a well-defined man.
God picked favorites, and it wasn’t you.
There was an open notebook splayed over his face. He gripped the spine, tossing it to the side. 
“I’m over this chemistry shit,” He sighed.
You couldn’t possibly have agreed more. Still, you continued to sketch the rough outline of a circle onto the sheet of construction paper in your hand. You would need to make it perfect, just right, so that you would be able to incorporate it into your group project.
You turned the pencil over between your fingertips. “We’re gonna need more supplies.”
"Like what?" Yuuji asked, his frustration still evident. "I’m pretty sure we’ve purchased, like… every craft supply on the market."
You quirked a brow at the thought. "Scissors…?"
Yuuji pursed his lips, his brow furrowing. "I don’t have those."
"Of course you don’t," you sighed, shaking your head. "Who the hell doesn’t have scissors?"
"I lent them to Choso," he retorted with a hint of annoyance.
Your heart dropped at the mention of Choso. You couldn't help but picture his face, his body, and wondered if he was asleep. You didn't want to disturb him.
Yuuji sat up, nudging you with his foot playfully. "Hey, why don't you go over there and get them? Make some goo-goo eyes, bat your lashes. I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to you."
You hesitated for a moment, considering your options. "I'm sure I can find some in my backpack," you said instead, trying to avoid the suggestion.
"Come onnnn, you know you wanna go over there," Yuuji teased with a sly grin. He leaned in closer, cupping his hand around his mouth, and whispered, " He just got back from the gym. "
Another nudge from Yuuji finally made you relent. "Fine," you said with a playful roll of your eyes. "I’ll be back."
Only moments later, you found yourself standing in front of Choso's door, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through you as you raised your hand up to knock. You rapped twice against the wooden surface. There was a shuffling sound on the other side of the world, one that made your heartrate pick up, and then the door cracked open.
He had one earbud in his ear, the other dangling over his chest. He wore a black wife pleaser and some grey sweats that hung loose over his hips – leaving little to the imagination. He looked so strong, muscular arm braced against the doorframe while the other held it open. His waist was thin, toned, so much so that you could see it through the fabric of his shirt.
He smelled like he had just hopped out of the shower – like cherry and musk. His wet hair was done back into a messy bun. His eyes raked over your trembling form.
With a gentle, familiar grin, he said, “What’s up?”
Your throat felt dry. You swallowed anyway, with a great deal of discomfort, averting your wide-eyed gaze. Ignoring the way your eyes lingered over the pale skin of his toned navel revealed where his tank had ridden up, over the v line that dipped down into his waistband, over the neatly trimmed trail that led down south . 
“Do… Do you have scissors?” You asked him. You didn’t like how timid you sounded, or the way your stomach churned at the sight of him.
He paused for a moment, and somehow you knew he was looking at you. You were suddenly very glad you had worn a fitted v-neck tee shirt today, one that would have provided him with a bird’s eye view of your cleavage.
He’s looking at me. 
“Yeah,” he muttered quietly, stepping away from the door and into his room. You had only wandered into Choso’s quarters a few times with Yuuji, usually to steal something from him while he wasn’t home. You had never really taken the time to notice the band posters taped up over his walls, the black sheets on his bed, the clothes scattered over his floor in typical teenage boy fashion.
You poked your head in, taking a quick look around while his muscular back was turned. Ultimately, it was him you wound up gawking at, hungry eyes following the well-defined curve of his back into his slim waist, the curve of his bubble butt.
You looked away just as he had turned around. If he noticed you staring, he didn’t say anything. A red pair of scissors dangled from his curled finger. 
“Here,” was all he said, offering the tool to you. 
You didn’t know when conversations between the two of you had gotten to be so tense, so strained. It used to come effortlessly. These days, however, it seemed as if you were always trying to run away from conversation with him.
You took it from him gently, dying a bit more inside when his large fingers brushed against yours, offering a slight nod in return. “Thanks.”
16 and 18, now.
You had texted Choso asking for his help on a particularly difficult math assignment. He was older, after all, you didn’t doubt that he was better equipped to complete the homework than you were.
That was the first time you had ever hung out alone with him. Without Itadori. 
You would never forget the way the atmosphere changed when he sat close to you at the kitchen table. The way your skin prickled with electricity beneath his hesitant touch. He poked fun at you and your incompetence. You didn’t even care, not when he was sitting so close to you.
Alone.
The possibilities that filled your mind were less than holy.
Tensions were at an all time high. He had leaned over to help you, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, when it finally snapped.
When you met his gaze with uncertainty in your eyes, making no real effort to put any distance between you and the man you had been pining after for so many years. In that moment, you saw it – saw him, saw that he finally looked at you as something more than just a girl.
Saw the way his gaze softened as he leaned into you. You let him get closer, close enough that his nose brushed against the tip of yours. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You remarked, even though you ached to be trapped in this moment with him a while longer.
He licked his lips, murmuring, “You’re probably right.”
Nothing compared to the delicate brush of his lips against yours as the two of you finally met in the middle, The way fireworks blew up in your gut. The way he cradled your cheek gently in the palm of his hand, crossing that unspoken boundary that the two of you had been toeing for so long.
Though you had made out with a few guys before, in your eyes, you had shared your first kiss with Choso in the kitchen that night. The first of many to come .
The summer between 16 and 17 was spent sharing secret moments with him behind doors, between appearances. 
You sat on the couch next to Itadori, trapped in the second installment of a film series the two of you had been watching yesterday. You were wearing a zip-up hoodie over your school uniform. 
You had come over to do homework. Just like yesterday, though, you wound up fucking around. 
Itadori was far too engrossed in whatever was happening on screen to notice his brother leaving the kitchen just a few feet off to the side. He looked you up and down, dark eyes reaching into your soul and picking you apart at the seams. With a barely noticeable motion, he nodded towards the stairs.
You nodded back, heart thrumming wildly in your chest.
Choso gripped the meat of your ass in his hands, throwing your legs around his waist while his mouth danced against yours. You tossed your arms around his shoulders, head reeling from how effortlessly he had picked you up. He walked the two of you backwards until your back hit the door. 
He continued to ravage you against that surface, too, tongue slipping in between your lips and exploring your mouth. You trembled against him, trying your best to keep up with him.
It felt so good – being pressed up against him, being given his attention. You wished it was more than secret kisses here and there, of course, but you would take what you could get.
“Missed you,” he hummed against your lips. 
You didn’t even care if that was the line he used on all of the other girls. In that moment, all that mattered was his lips against yours, his hands on you, his attention.
You snaked your hands up the back of his neck and into his hair, twisting some of the dark strands between your fingertips. “I should really get back soon,” You gasped, relishing in the way his kisses felt up and down your neck.
He relented, letting you down. You pressed one more chaste kiss to his lips.
“Didn’t mean to keep ‘ya,” he chuckled lowly, breaths still heavy from the makeout session you had been having only seconds before. He nodded towards the door behind you. “Get back out there.”
You nodded wordlessly, opening the door. With one final smile, you slipped behind it. You felt like you were floating as your legs carried you down the stairs and into the living room. You didn’t even care how disheveled you looked.
Thankfully, Yuuji didn’t notice the way you were wiping your mouth on the back of your hand as you plopped onto the couch beside him. He also didn’t notice when his brother wandered down the stairs a few minutes later, or the way he smiled knowingly at you before disappearing into the kitchen.
You were 17 when Choso left for college. He was 19 when his brother had thrown him a going-away party.
There were 10 of you in the living room, a few of Yuuji and his childhood friends all gathered around the coffee table. A movie was on. Some of them were engrossed in a card game in the corner of the room. 
You and Choso lingered behind the group, situated comfortably on the couch behind all of the action. He was sitting so close that your thighs brushed against his, so close that it felt like he, too, wanted to savor the moment before interacting with you became a rarity. Before he moved out and started a new life somewhere hours away.
He didn’t voice any of these feelings, keeping his dark eyes unreadable and steady on the movie that Yuji had put on in the background. Selena Gomez was playing from a speaker somewhere behind the couch.
You almost wanted to lean your head on his shoulder. Almost. Never mind the fact that everyone would see it.
You distinctly remember the way he shifted closer to you when you pulled out a blanket. You let him make the bold move, seemingly unfazed by the potential audience only feet away from the two of you. 
He tossed the plush blanket over his legs. The lights were dim. Dim enough that they wouldn’t see the way your face flushed at the proximity.
Sixteen minutes passed. You felt like you were going to explode.
Somewhere along the way, though it’s all a bit fuzzy now, you remember feeling his hand creep down beneath the blanket to rest on your thigh. You fought to remain composed, even though the darkness undoubtedly shrouded whatever it was that Choso was planning to do.
He lingered over the skin on your thighs left bare by the shorts you had chosen to wear. His finger traced over you, igniting fire in your nerves. Again, you said nothing, letting him go about tracing shapes on your thigh while his face remained stoic and composed.
You glanced between him and the blanket. You couldn’t see the imprint of his hand moving, somehow, but you could practically feel the heat radiating from beneath it when his index finger slipped between your thighs. 
19 years old. Two years had never seemed so far apart. When he was the age you were now, you recalled his voice being quite a few pitches higher. The same voice that had dropped even lower over the last year, now drawing you closer to him as he murmured into your ear, “Can I touch you?”
Parting your legs infinitesimally, you wordlessly granted him entrance. His fingers dipped down, ghosting over your cotton panties in a way that had you wondering how well of a disguise the dim lighting really was.
“What if they see us?” You had whispered back, even quieter. None of them had bothered to turn back. Even still, you wondered if one of them had X-Ray vision.
His voice seemed even deeper as it vibrated against your side. “You’ll be quiet for me, won’t you?”
The moment his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your panties, you knew you were in no position to disagree.
Yuuji and his friends were none the more wiser. Yuji didn’t notice when you whined quietly, letting him slip two fingers into your aching cunt, or when his brother worked you open on his fingers. 
He didn’t notice when the two of you had left to make out heatedly in the pantry, right against the box of assorted chips, right where anyone could walk in, turn on the light, and see you there pressed up against him disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes. 
Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.
It would be another three months before you would see Choso again.
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I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.
taglist: @missphanosaur18 ,
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j4gm · 7 months
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SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 10: CHEERS
The finale!
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Pawn Swan! This was another character who first appeared in Steve Wolfhard's post-finale loredump about the 1000+ world. I never expected to actually see him in the show.
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Nuts how this is like the third time we've seen Simon's ass. I love how Shermy is just chilling and playing video games while GOLB lets this random old man take a turn at the wheel.
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This establishing shot of Fionnaworld shows that it's very small. By the time it is restored at the end of the episode, this ominous white border is gone and there are more buildings, implying that it became a complete world.
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I can't believe Gary was thirsting after Scarab in this situation.
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There is a shop called Evergree Flowers; likely a reference to the episode Evergreen.
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This shop window advertises that you can learn to kick bugs. Appropriately enough, Cake kicks Scarab through this shop window while in her Godzilla form.
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The Betty statue has become GOLBetty.
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It should be clear by this point that Casper and Nova are a parallel to Simon and Betty, with all of their decisions being made by Casper with little consideration for Nova due to their unbalanced power dynamic. This is why Simon realises that he should have been more considerate of Betty's dreams, rather than single-mindedly chasing the Enchiridion and the crown.
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The credits confirm that genderswapped Ash is named Ashley. I wonder what happened to her after she fell into the void. Probably nothing good.
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Poor Marshall never gets to finish his songs. Truly he is the genderswapped Marceline.
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The name "GOLBetty" is now canon; Simon uses it in this scene.
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I'm not sure what's happening to GOLBetty here. A loose thread to pick up if this story ever gets a continuation, perhaps.
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Simon steps through several different universes, including all the ones we saw during this miniseries. I'm not sure what this world full of tiny bears is meant to be.
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Some kind of industrial capitalist hell universe.
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This is the Water Park Prank artstyle, implying that Water Park Prank takes place in a separate but canon universe. So Water Park Prank is now canonically canonical! (what a ridiculous phrase)
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Some kind of Jake universe.
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A universe featuring Magwood and his volcano lair, from the episode Evergreen.
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The snail! It's not dead after all. And it's a great way of symbolising a return to regular Ooo, as is the reappearance of the smiley butterfly.
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This was a strange selection of characters. I hope Jay hasn't left his younger siblings on their own if their dad is dead. At least baby Finn won't have to grow up in Vampworld, though part of me liked imagining what that would have been like.
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Fionna mentions that his is her top fantasy. The other two of her top three fantasies were Cake being able to talk and a kingdom made of candy.
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She gets a hammer, like she had in the dream sequence at the very beginning of the miniseries.
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Kheirosiphon goes back to working in a teashop, just like he did on The Drift before he was imprisoned by Scarab. Also Marshall's outfit here is incredibly gay, it's great.
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There is an ad here for a daddy issues themed comedy night. Sounds like Marceline's kind of place.
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Prismo's face glitches for a second. Ominous.
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Simon definitely needs to move out. This is probably an even more important realisation than coming to understand his influence over Betty.
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In the credits of this episode, Simon is finally at peace.
And with that, the miniseries is over! Back to the long wait. Will this be it for Adventure Time? Or is there yet more to come...
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kitkatscabinet · 7 months
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Always been you
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Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f! childhood friend reader
Summary: From the moment you first smiled at him as children Simon knew it would always be you.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: some nsfw content so minors keep scrolling
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It starts like this, he’s 9 years old feet listlessly guiding himself to the rundown park desperate to be somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t the oppressive confines of home. The weather, as was typical of Manchester, wasn’t exactly cooperating. A dreary grey drizzle that served to keep most of the general populace indoors. Few parents were willing to stand outside and supervise their rowdy children. 
That’s not to say the area was completely devoid of activity and for a while Simon was content to sit idly on the swing set and people watch. Trying desperately to ignore the clench in his chest and the sting of tears in the corner of his eyes as he watched the loving interactions between child and parent. Bitterness and wanting in equal parts threatened to consume him. 
A voice from the side quickly pulls him from the harrowing thoughts, though he quickly thinks maybe they’d be easier to deal with. It’s a boy, around his age, maybe a little older and he’s boring like Simon’s deeply offended him. 
“Get off the swing, I want a turn.” The demand leaves Simon more than a little flabbergasted. Apparently, he takes too long to not follow the sudden command as the boy's face twists in even more displeasure. 
“I said, move!” He’s taller, and maybe it's because Simon had already been scared by Tommy that morning but he freezes. 
Or maybe it’s just because he’s pathetic, his father’s voice whispers traitorously in his mind. 
Thankfully, the thought doesn’t get to stick around for long as a new voice enters the fray. “Hey! Fuck off!” Both boys whirl around with wide eyes at the newcomer, neither sure how to respond to the loudly swearing girl. However, when the boy responds with what Simon assumes to be your name it becomes clear that you already know each other. 
“I don’t have to listen a girl.” That proves to be exactly the wrong thing to say, Righteous indignation lights up your face and before Simon can even blink the would-be bully is on the ground, clutching his nose with a cry. You’d punched him, hard enough that Simon could see the blood spilling out from over the crying boy’s hands and down his chin. Not wanting to suffer the same fate, Simon had let you pull on his hand, keeping it in a deceptively strong grip as you marched the two of them away. When you make it far enough from the crime scene you turn to him with a toothy grin, introducing yourself and promptly claiming the title of his new best friend. 
It’s not quite love at first sight, but years down the line Simon will recognise it as something close. 
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The fourth time you meet at the park, not even two weeks from the initial greeting, you ask after his parents. It wasn’t unusual that Simon didn’t talk much, content to listen to you chatter away but you must have noticed something different in that instance of silence. You were alarmingly perceptive like that when it came to him, your eyes feeling as if they were staring directly into his soul, seeing all the shattered hurt he tried to hide. Nodding to yourself you grabbed his hand, an occurrence that he hadn’t quite gotten used to yet - your gentle touch, and tugged him along. You walk him all the way to your house, open the door with an excited bang and march straight up to your parents. 
“This is my best friend, Simon, he’s gonna sleep over tonight!” Your parents are rightfully not amused but their protests quickly die down. He has no idea what convinced them in the end, but from then on he’d somehow become a permanent fixture in your home. Dinners became a regular thing which often became sleepovers as you attempted to keep him out of the house that had caused him so much fear and pain. It was about as subtle as a brick to the face but Simon never complained, especially if it meant you’d pull him into your bed as often as possible to sleep. 
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He hadn’t minded the first two ‘boyfriends’, they had been nothing serious, silly childhood infatuations. Because at the end of the day, it was always him that you returned to. Crawling through his window late at night and pouting that you couldn’t sleep without your favourite pillow, because somehow, despite his protests you always wrestled him into being the little spoon. 
No, it isn’t until he’s 17 and more than aware of how painfully in love with you he is that the boyfriends finally become a problem. Simon wasn’t a violent person, didn’t want to be, not like his father was. But as he holds you in his arms after you’d climbed through the window in tears, cuddling up to him under the blanket covering his bed that he swears for the first time in his life he could kill somebody. He offers too, you simply laugh and tell him he’s the best friend you could ever have. You think he’s joking, Simon’s not entirely sure he is. 
You’re his first kiss, something that had only occurred at your aghast knowledge that he’d never kissed anyone at all. He’s not sure why you’re surprised, you’re the only person he ever lets near him let alone touch him. It’s simultaneously the best and worst moment of his life because now he actually knows what it feels like to kiss you. Knows that nobody will ever live up to you. 
It’s then he realises that you’re his first everything really, first friend, first crush, first and only love. 
He reads some of your smutty books, the ones you giggle at, a secret he’ll take to the grave, just to learn what you like. It comes about after a drunken confession on your part, liquor loosening your lips just a tad too much as you detail how much your last boyfriend sucked in bed. It’s a mistake, because now every time he looks at you he can’t help but imagine the way you’d taste. How you’d sound begging so prettily for him. 
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His decision to join the military was not made lightly, you’d gotten accepted into some fancy university and it’s then Simon starts to realise just how much his entire life has started to revolve around you. As much as he wants to follow, he knows that life isn’t for him, and he knows how much you want him to flourish in whatever path he chooses. 
Training isn’t easy, but it’s far from the hardest thing he’d ever done. That title was reserved for telling you about his chosen career path. 
“Promise me you’ll always come back home to me” you demand, parting just slightly from your hug to look into his eyes. Simon knows he shouldn’t, after all there’s never any guarantee that he will, but as has been the case since you were both 12 he can’t bare to say no to you. 
“I promise love” it’s barely a whisper but you still hear it, your fingers clutching at the back of his shirt starting to shake a little. 
He wants to kiss you, he always does, but standing before him now, eyes glassy from the tears you’re trying to hold back, Simon swears you’ve never looked more ethereal. As much as he wants to lean down and finally taste your lips he doesn’t, it wouldn’t be fair. Not to you or to him, so instead he presses a soft kiss to your hairline, keeping you held tightly against him. 
You send him more care packages than he can count, photos, letters and little trinkets he kept tucked safely away in his bunk or on his person when he could get away with it. He gets teased for it but Simon couldn’t give less of a fuck about their poorly hidden jealousy, not when you cared for him so deeply. Not when he gets to fall asleep with your words in his head and faint scent rubbing off on him. 
He’d thought that perhaps the distance would do him some good, would finally douse the blazing flames of his love for you. He really should have known better because as the day's drone on you start to consume his every thought both waking and asleep. His life becomes a series of training and missions that only serve as a way to pass the time until he gets to see you again. Because no matter how much blood stains his hands he knows you’ll always be there to wash it away. He’s aware how selfish it is, to place the brunt of his longing and emotional baggage that only continues to grow in your careful hands, but Simon’s never claimed to be a good man. 
Some of the darkness slips out one night, after his brother's wedding, after the revelry had died down and it was just the two of you lying on the grass and looking up at the stars at your insistence. He’ll forever blame it on the alcohol, descriptions of the violence he’d tried so desperately to keep from you pouring from his lips in confession. He can’t bear to look at you, heart roaring in his ears as he waits for the moment you’ll run, the moment you’ll finally realise what a monster he is. That moment never comes, instead, you ensnare him in your protective grip, hands cradling him far more softly than he deserves. It’s that moment that finally cements the fact that you’re never leaving in his mind. You’re never leaving so it’s up to him to pull away before he tarnishes your light, but Simon is weak and so he stays. 
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It happens after his third tour, the one where he’d had too close a call, the one he’d thought for a few moments he wasn’t coming home from. In those moments he’d thought of you, of your smile and god he regretted. He regretted never telling you how he felt. 
It feels like he’s barely off the plane, eyes searching desperately for you before he hears the shout of his name. He spins just in time for you to launch yourself at his chest, gripping desperately onto him. You’ve always tried to keep your affection for him private, knowing he wasn’t entirely comfortable with people staring. Neither of you cared in that moment though and Simon’s already dropped his bags, engulfing you in a near-crushing grip. 
It’s an eternity before you pull away, but it’s still too soon. He briefly glimpses the tears in your eyes before he leans down and kisses you. Something in the back of his mind is screaming at him, but he doesn’t really care to listen. At first, you don’t respond and Simon finally panics as the consequences of his actions set in. You don’t give him the chance to run away though, hands grasping his face and keeping him in place. 
When you pull away you don’t say anything, simply taking his hand in yours and tugging him out to your car. The drive to your apartment is silent, but not uncomfortable. It isn’t until you’ve pulled him into your bed, in a mirror image of your younger years that you finally break the silence. 
“I never thought you felt the same.” The same? The implications of your words seared into the forefront of his mind. 
“Silly girl, why would I ever even look at somebody else when you exist?” You let out an adorably embarrassed squawk at his words, lightly hitting him on the chest as you bury your burning face against his neck.“It’s always been you” he murmurs, the confession settling over you like a wave. 
For a split second, he fears your relapse into silence means he’d pushed too far too fast. Years of pining bubbling up and over the surface at the slightest bit of reciprocation. You’re quick to shut down his internal spiral with another earth-shattering kiss, pulling away and resting your chin on his chest. 
“Yeah, you’ve always been it for me too Si. From the moment I pulled you from that swing." It's a little embarrassing, how fast his heart races at the confession. Tears build in the corners of his eyes as he finally, finally lets himself fully succumb to your love. You're quick to wipe them away though, because you would always take care of your Simon.
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