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pucksandpower · 3 months

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The Princess and the Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Princess of Denmark!Reader

Summary: in which you follow the time-honored tradition of Danish royalty falling in love with Australians

Note: dedicated to my favorite Dane, @struggling-with-drivers, who had to put up with me taking months to finally get the proper inspiration to write this

“And if you’ll just follow me, Your Majesty and Your Royal Highnesses, I’ll take you to meet Kevin now,” the overly peppy Haas PR representative says as she gestures down the garage.

You force a smile, trying not to physically recoil as you take in the assault of garish Haas branding surrounding you. The white, red, and black color scheme is far too harsh on the eyes this early on a Saturday morning.

“Oh goody,” your younger sister Josephine says flatly, eliciting a snort from your younger brother Vincent.

Your mother, Queen Mary, shoots the two a reproachful look before turning back to the PR rep with a polished smile. “We’re very excited to meet Kevin and support Denmark’s driver.”

The PR rep beams and starts leading you further into the Haas garage, rattling on about Haas’ ambitious goals for the season as you pass mechanics in matching black Haas polos barely paying you any mind.

You internally groan, already dreading the interaction ahead. As the Crown Princess, you’ve long perfected the art of feigning interest, but this weekend has tested even your limits.

“And I know meeting the future queen will just make Kevin’s day!” The rep continues enthusiastically. “He was so honored when King Frederik reached out about you all coming this weekend to support him.”

You resist the urge to snort. More like the royal communications secretary reached out when they realized the Australian Grand Prix overlapped with your visit to your mother’s family in Australia. Nothing like conveniently timing a royal appearance to drum up positive press.

Your younger sister, Isabella, sidles up next to you, linking her arm through yours commiseratingly. At 16, she’s already mastered your family’s signature skill — conveying boredom through a pleasant facial expression.

“I have some fresh sets of Haas merch we would love for you to wear when you meet Kevin,” the rep says, holding out stacks of Haas emblazoned caps and shirts insistently. “It would mean so much to the team for you to showcase your support.”

You force a smile, already shaking your head. “Oh, I’m afraid we can’t wear anything with advertisements or sponsors per royal protocol.”

The PR rep’s face falls slightly before she plasters the smile back on. “Of course, Your Royal Highness, I understand. Shall we?”

She gestures further down the garage to where the Haas drivers are standing with team personnel. Kevin Magnussen spots your approach, nudging his teammate before they turn towards you.

As you reach them, Kevin steps forward first, offering a short bow. “Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses, it’s an honor to meet you.”

You offer your hand, which he takes, bowing again as he brushes his lips over your knuckles. “The honor is ours, Mr. Magnussen. Denmark is proud to have you representing us in Formula 1.”

Kevin smiles bashfully as you drop his hand. “Please, call me Kevin.”

You return his smile politely. “Very well, Kevin it is.”

The rest of your family exchanges pleasantries with Kevin before the PR rep guides you towards the pit wall to observe the action on track. Practice is getting underway, and you’re grateful for any chance to extract yourself from the oppressive Haas environment.

As you exit the garage into the sunlight, you breathe a sigh of relief. Two bodyguards fall smoothly in step behind you as you start down the paddock, taking in the buzz of activity.

You smile softly, the excitement infectious despite your general disinterest in motorsports. There’s something about the frenetic energy at a race that gets your blood pumping.

Your eyes light up as you spot the unmistakable papaya motorhome of McLaren up ahead. Now that’s a team you can get behind. Cool retro appeal and a driver line-up you’ve heard is full of young talent — what’s not to love?

You pick up your pace, eager to get a closer look at the iconic livery, when suddenly you collide headlong into a firm, muscular body.

You gasp as strong arms wrap around you, stopping your momentum abruptly. Your hands brace against a solid chest as you glance up, prepared to stammer out an apology.

But the words die on your lips as you find yourself staring into warm brown eyes set in an unfairly handsome face. The eyes widen in surprise, clearly not having expected the Crown Princess of Denmark to go careening into his arms.

His mouth opens, no doubt to ask if you’re okay, but you stand frozen as the hustle of the paddock fades into background noise.

In this moment, it’s just you and this beautiful stranger. A stranger who hasn’t let go of you yet, one hand still pressed gently against your back.

You know you should pull away, apologize for your clumsiness and be on your way. But something about his eyes makes you want to stay right here, wrapped safely in his arms.

You stand frozen, lost in the stranger’s mesmerizing brown eyes. You vaguely register your bodyguards stepping forward on either side of you.

“Your Royal Highness, are you alright?” Henrik, your lead bodyguard, asks urgently.

You blink, the spell broken as Henrik’s hand lands on your shoulder, gently tugging you back.

The stranger’s eyes widen further as understanding seems to dawn. His eyes flick over the royal crest on Henrik’s suit jacket before moving back to your face, a hint of panic in his gaze.

Before you can offer any reassurance, a voice calls out sharply from behind the man.

“Oscar! What are you doing, mate? We’ve got the strategy briefing in five!”

You watch as the man — Oscar, apparently — glances reluctantly over his shoulder to where a thin harried man bearing a McLaren team pass stands tapping his foot impatiently.

Oscar’s hands slip from your waist as he takes a small step back. “Sorry, I—”

But whatever he was going to say gets lost as the man strides forward, clapping a firm hand on Oscar’s shoulder.

“C’mon, let’s go. No time for chatting up fans when we’ve got quali coming up.”

Oscar allows himself to be steered away, casting one last, almost wistful look back at you before the brisk man hustles him around the corner.

You stare after them for a long moment before Henrik’s voice breaks through your daze once more.

“Your Highness, are you injured at all? Shall I call for a medic?”

You blink, shaking your head quickly as heat floods your cheeks. Honestly, they must think you a simpleton, standing here gaping after a man you collided with.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you assure him quickly. “Just a bit clumsy this morning it seems.”

You force out a breathy laugh, hoping your flaming cheeks can be explained away as embarrassment from your blunder.

Henrik eyes you skeptically for a moment before nodding. “Very well. But please be more careful, Your Highness. Next time we may not be so lucky.”

You nod contritely before allowing Henrik to usher you back towards the Haas garage, your other bodyguard falling smoothly back in step behind you.

As you near the garage, you spot your family gathered by the pit wall, watching as a group of track marshals examines a particularly suspicious drain cover. Your younger siblings all turn as one to look at you, eerily in sync.

The knowing looks on their faces make you shudder. Of the many curses of growing up in a big family, the inability to keep secrets ranks near the top. You’re sure they’ll have the truth out of you before long.

“Nice of you to join us, Y/N,” your younger brother Christian remarks wryly as you reach them. “Have a nice stroll?”

You resist the urge to stick your tongue out at him. Barely.

“Lovely, thank you,” you reply breezily instead, moving to stand between your mother and Isabella.

You determinedly avoid meeting any of your siblings’ gazes, focusing on the timing sheets instead. But you can feel their curious stares boring into you.

“You look a bit flushed, darling. Are you feeling quite alright?” Your mother murmurs, pressing a hand to your forehead in concern.

“Just peachy!” You chirp in response, internally cringing at the unnatural brightness in your tone.

From your other side, Isabella leans in, voice sly. “You do seem rather … distracted. Anything you want to share with the class?”

You glance at her sharply, taking in her knowing smirk. You narrow your eyes in warning, but Isabella just smiles innocently.

“Oh leave your sister be,” your mother chides. “I’m sure Y/N is just overwhelmed by the excitement of experiencing her first Grand Prix.”

You make a noncommittal noise of agreement, turning your focus back to the timing sheets. Isabella elbows you subtly and you pointedly ignore her, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.

You’re immensely thankful when the Haas PR rep appears again, ushering you towards the back to “give the team space to prepare for qualifying,” and drawing your family’s attention away from you.

You trail after your family to the cordoned off hospitality area, gratefully accepting a bottle of water from the proffered cooler.

As the mechanics spring into action around you, Isabella sidles up next to you again, playful smile still in place.

“Soooo,” she drawls, bumping your shoulder with hers. “Who’s got you all flustered then?”

You nearly choke on your water, whipping your head to face her. “What? No one! I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Even to your own ears, the denial sounds feeble. Isabella merely arches one perfect brow, clearly not buying it.

You huff out a breath, scanning the room quickly to ensure none of your other family members are in earshot before hissing under your breath. “I may have accidentally careened into a McLaren crew member during my walk.”

Isabella’s grin turns positively feline. “Oh, do tell ...”

“There’s nothing to tell!” you insist, face flaming once more. “We collided and his reflexes were quick enough to catch me before I fell. That’s all.”

“Mmhmm, I’m sure that blush is just because you’re so very embarrassed by your clumsiness and nothing else.”

You scowl and take a long swig of your water.

Isabella chuckles. “So was this mystery McLaren man at least handsome?”

You nearly choke again. “Isabella!” You admonish under your breath.

She holds up both hands innocently, still grinning. “What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question. No judgment here, promise.”

You narrow your eyes, considering her carefully. Before you can think better of it, you mutter reluctantly, “He … wasn’t entirely unfortunate looking.”

“Aha!” Isabella crows triumphantly. “I knew it!”

You shush her frantically, glancing around to make sure her outburst didn’t draw any unwanted attention.

“Do you know his name at least?” Isabella asks, slightly more quietly this time.

You hesitate before admitting, "... Oscar, I think. His colleague called him that.”

Isabella hums thoughtfully. “Very mysterious ...”

You roll your eyes, shoving her shoulder. “Oh stop it. Can we please just drop this?”

“Of course, of course,” Isabella relents, though the impish twinkle remains in her eye.

You’re prevented from further interrogation by the start of qualifying. You rejoin your family, studiously keeping your gaze away from your siblings’ knowing looks.

You determinedly put the morning’s events from your mind, focusing on Kevin’s qualifying efforts. Though you can’t help the occasional wish that the handsome stranger from McLaren — Oscar — was the one flying around the track instead.

The session proceeds fairly predictably, with the top teams claiming the top spots and the backmarkers bringing up the rear.

As Kevin pulls into the garage after qualifying 17th, you paste on an encouraging smile.

“Excellent job out there, Kevin! You and the team should be very proud.”

Kevin smiles wryly back at you. “You’re too kind, Your Highness. But I think we all know 17th is nothing to celebrate for a team with our aspirations.”

You nod sympathetically. “Of course, there’s always room for improvement. But you showed admirable pace given the circumstances.”

Kevin inclines his head gratefully at your measured response. “You have a bright future ahead as queen with such judicious words.”

You thank him sincerely for the compliment before your family takes their leave, the day’s obligations finally complete.

As you all pile into the waiting cars, Isabella leans over and whispers, “Do you think Kevin would’ve qualified higher if Haas wasn’t so slow?”

You have to smother your snort of laughter into your hand.

“Without question,” you whisper back. “I think a snail could qualify ahead of Haas at this point.”

Isabella dissolves into muffled giggles next to you as the cars pull away from the circuit, leaving the chaotic world of Formula 1 behind. At least until tomorrow.

***

You stare contemplatively out the car window as the city lights of Melbourne streak by in the darkness. Despite your family’s teasing, you can’t seem to remove a certain McLaren crew member from your thoughts.

Oscar. Even his name sends a flutter through your stomach.

You know it’s foolish to get caught up over a brief collision with a stranger. And yet … those eyes. You can’t shake the connection you felt in that moment, however fleeting.

The car slows to a stop outside your hotel and you make a split-second decision. Turning to your mother, you adopt your most winsome tone.

“Mor, I was hoping you might allow me to go out for the evening. To experience the Melbourne nightlife before we depart.”

Your mother’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Go out? Alone?”

You rush to reassure her. “Oh no, I’ll take Henrik and Simone with me of course. I would just love the chance to explore the city a bit, like a normal young woman.”

You see a flash of understanding on your mother’s face and press your advantage. “In fact, didn’t you and Far meet during a pub crawl?”

Pink stains your mother’s cheeks but her lips quirk up. “I suppose we did. But those were different times ...”

“Please Mor?” You plead. “When will I have a chance like this again?”

Your mother regards you shrewdly for a long moment before sighing. “Oh very well. But Henrik and Simone must accompany you at all times. And I want you back by midnight at the latest.”

You beam, leaning over to smack a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, thank you! I promise I’ll stay safe.”

As you exit the car, your younger brother Christian pipes up from behind you. “Hey, can I come too?”

“Absolutely not,” your mother shuts him down swiftly, leveling a quelling look at his crestfallen face.

You hide a smile as you sweep into the hotel to change, giddiness rising in your chest. A night out is just what you need to clear your head from a certain handsome distraction.

An hour later you slide into the backseat of one of the discreet royal security vehicles, now wearing jeans, heels, and a silky camisole, your long hair spilling over your shoulders.

Henrik raises his eyebrows at your outfit but doesn’t comment as he pulls away from the hotel, heading for the club district.

When you arrive, the bouncer’s eyes widen at the royal crests adorning your bodyguards’ suits. But a few quick words from Henrik and you’re granted access without a fuss.

The heavy beat of the music washes over you as you enter the fashionable club. Bright lights flash hypnotically over the crowded dance floor. You glance back at Henrik and Simone stationed near the entrance, allowing the music to carry you further inside.

You weave your way to the bar, excitement simmering in your veins. Tonight you’re just Y/N, anonymous clubgoer. No titles, no expectations, no watching eyes judging your every move.

Well, except for your bodyguards of course. But they’re discreet enough to give you space.

You’re so lost in the heady freedom of anonymity that you don’t notice the nearby figure doing a double take. But as you step up to the bar, waiting to order, a now familiar voice sounds behind you.

“Y-Your Highness!” He stammers, nearly dropping the drinks he just received. “I mean, Princess, uh Crown Princess? Sorry, I’m not actually sure—”

You whirl around to see Oscar standing there, looking devastatingly handsome in a button-down and jeans.

“Oscar!” You gasp, a smile breaking across your face unbidden. “What are you doing here?”

Pink stains Oscar’s tanned cheeks. “Ah, well my mates from the team wanted to go out and blow off some steam before the race tomorrow.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “But what brings Denmark’s future queen out to the clubs?”

You shrug lightly, grin turning impish. “Can’t a girl just want to dance and have some fun?”

Oscar’s eyes gleam with understanding. “Suppose she can. Well then, may I get you a drink … er ...”

He trails off, clearly unsure how to address you in this unusual context.

You take pity on him and lean in conspiratorially. “Tonight, I’m just Y/N. No need for fancy titles.”

Relief flashes across Oscar’s face and he smiles. “Y/N it is.”

Soon you’ve got drinks in hand and are chatting easily at a tall table beside the dance floor. Oscar is witty and charming, and laughs freely at your sarcastic commentary about Formula 1.

You’re amazed by how at ease you feel in his presence, the crown’s ever-present weight lifted from your shoulders. With Oscar, you’re not an heiress apparent, but just a girl talking to a boy she really really likes.

When he asks what you think of McLaren, you perk up eagerly. “Oh yes, what is it exactly that you do there? Are you an engineer or mechanic of some sort?”

Oscar’s eyes shutter briefly and he clears his throat. “Ah, something like that. Mostly just tinkering to try and make the car faster.”

He steers the conversation to safer waters before you can inquire further. You make a mental note to look up the full McLaren staff list later and figure out his specific role.

The night flies by in a blur of laughter and stolen glances. Oscar gamely joins you on the dance floor, his hands resting lightly on your waist as you sway together.

When at last you note the time, disappointment sinks heavy in your gut. Oscar’s face mirrors your own regret as he insists on walking you to meet your bodyguards.

Outside the club, you turn to him reluctantly. “I wish this didn’t have to end. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

Oscar shuffles his feet, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. “Would … would you want to meet up again tomorrow? Maybe outside the McLaren garage before the race?”

Your face lights up. “I’d love that.” Overcome by boldness, you lean in and brush a feather-light kiss to his cheek.

Oscar’s hand drifts up to his cheek, eyes dazed. “Brilliant. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You bid him goodnight before allowing Henrik and Simone to usher you into the waiting car, unable to keep the giddy smile from your face the entire ride back.

***

The next morning, you awake with a smile stretching across your face. The memory of Oscar’s brown eyes gazing into yours as you swayed together in the club fills you with warmth.

As you dress and prepare to head to the circuit, an idea strikes. There’s no rule saying you have to spend the entire pre-race hours cooped up in the Haas garage after all.

You slip into the hotel dining room, grabbing a piece of toast. “I’m afraid the petrol fumes in the garage were giving me a dreadful headache yesterday. I think I’ll take a walk around the paddock this morning for some fresh air before the race.”

Your mother’s brows furrow in concern. “Oh dear, that won’t do at all! Yes, a nice walk sounds wise.”

You thank her profusely on your way out, hiding your triumphant smile until the door closes behind you. Phase one complete.

You hold yourself back from rushing through the paddock once at the circuit, maintaining a sedate royal pace. But inside, excitement bubbles through your veins at the thought of seeing Oscar again.

As you make your way to the McLaren garage, your steps falter at the larger-than-life image emblazoned on the wall. Oscar beams back at you, brown hair just barely poking out from under his McLaren cap. The block letters beside the photo proclaim OSCAR PIASTRI #81.

You press a hand to your mouth to smother your gasp. Oscar is a driver? Your Oscar?

Speak of the devil, you spot him emerging from the garage, already dressed in fireproofs with his race suit half hanging around his waist. His face lights up when he sees you, lips curving into that boyish grin that makes your knees weak.

“Good morning!” He chirps, moving in for a brief hug.

You return the hug distractedly, still grappling with this new discovery. As you pull back, you arch a questioning brow at him.

“So … you’re a driver. Funny, I don’t recall you mentioning that last night.”

Pink stains Oscar’s cheeks and he rubs the back of his neck. “Ah, right. I may have omitted certain details about my role here.” His eyes turn pleading. “I hope you can forgive me? I just liked talking to someone who didn’t already know everything about me for once.”

You regard him thoughtfully before allowing a teasing grin to emerge. “Well, I suppose I can understand the appeal of a fresh slate. And it’s not as if I was fully forthcoming either.”

Oscar’s shoulders sag in relief. “Too right. Quite the pair we make, Princess.” His eyes dance playfully.

You open your mouth to respond but are interrupted by a shout from the garage. “Oscar! Debrief in two minutes, let’s go!”

Oscar smiles apologetically. “Duty calls. But let’s continue this later?”

At your nod, he squeezes your hand briefly before jogging back inside. You make your way back to Haas, butterflies still fluttering wildly.

Once the race starts, you have to work to restrain your enthusiasm as Oscar quickly moves up the field. More than once, you catch your lips curving upward as he deftly overtakes a competitor, and have to rearrange them into careful neutrality.

A discreet glance sideways shows your family members focused intently on Kevin’s efforts in the Haas. You allow yourself a small smile. Watching Oscar race with no one the wiser feels like getting away with something deliciously secretive.

The checkered flag finally waves after 58 intense laps. Your heart leaps as the McLaren crew begins celebrating Oscar’s podium finish. You have to force yourself not to join the applause as he climbs from his car, settling for clasping your hands tightly to contain your glee.

Meanwhile, Kevin finishes in 18th position while his teammate Nico suffered a mechanical retirement. You paste on an encouraging smile, tamping down your excitement over Oscar’s podium.

“Nice recovery there at the end, Kevin. Surely the team can build on this result in the next race.”

Privately, you think Haas would be lucky to keep a wheel attached long enough to make it to the end of a full race, let alone fight for points. But you keep that thought to yourself for now.

As your family rises to congratulate a dejected Kevin on completing the race, Isabella leans in close to whisper in your ear. “Not a great showing, I dare say. Perhaps you are considering transferring allegiance to a certain papaya team instead?”

You press your lips together to contain your smile. Trust Isabella to have guessed your conflicted loyalties.

“Indeed,” you murmur back. “One must be open to supporting all teams in the spirit of global unity.”

Isabella’s eyes dance with mirth, but she simply links her arm through yours, giving a sage nod. “Spoken like a true diplomat.”

As the celebrations kick off for Oscar’s first home race podium, you sneak glances over your shoulder, hoping for another glimpse of him through the chaos.

Someday soon, perhaps you’ll be able to cheer for him openly. For now, you hold the image of his smiling face in your mind as you reluctantly follow your family back out of the disappointing Haas garage.

If nothing else, this surprise-filled weekend has shown you that your heart will not be so easily commanded. And it seems to have rather fixated itself on a certain charismatic McLaren driver.

***

You hover near the paddock exit, half hoping to catch one last glimpse of Oscar before your departure. Your family made their polite farewells to the Haas team and you seized the opportunity to slip away.

You’ve just resigned yourself to missing him when hurried footsteps sound behind you.

“Princess! Wait up!”

You whirl around to see Oscar jogging towards you, face freshly showered but still flushed with elation. He draws up before you, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

“I’m so glad I caught you before I had to leave,” you smile brightly. “I had to come say a proper congratulations for your podium first!”

Oscar ducks his head bashfully even as his eyes shine. “And, well, I hoped maybe you were cheering me on out there today?”

Heat floods your cheeks as you let out an embarrassed laugh. “You know I can’t answer that. But I will say you drove brilliantly and I’m so pleased for your result.”

Oscar’s grin widens, clearly reading between the lines of your diplomatic answer.

“Well I’m glad I could end your weekend on a high note after the woeful introduction to Formula 1 from Haas.”

You groan good-naturedly. “Ugh yes, I think Kevin was grateful when I finally made myself scarce from that garage of doom.”

Oscar chuckles before his expression turns wistful. “I suppose this means you’ll be heading back to Denmark now though?”

You shake your head, curls spilling over your shoulders. “Oh no, we’re spending a few more weeks visiting my mother’s family in Tasmania first.”

At Oscar’s look of surprise, you elaborate, “My mother is originally Australian. Her family is from Tasmania.”

Understanding dawns on Oscar’s face. “Well how about that! Danish royalty certainly seems to have a taste for us Aussies.” He winks playfully.

Heat blooms in your cheeks but you rally to return his banter. “I suppose we do. Though from what I hear, McLaren seemed rather keen on Danes once upon a time as well.”

A rather in-depth Google search earlier that day taught you that Kevin Magnussen once raced for the papaya team. You rather wish he never left, if only so you did not have to suffer through the tedium of being in the Haas garage for the past two days.

Oscar barks out a laugh, eyes dancing with mirth. “Too right, you’ve got me there.” His laughter fades to a soft smile. “But I can’t say I blame my predecessors in the slightest.”

The tender look in his eyes makes your breath catch. Before you lose your nerve, you hurriedly dig out your phone.

“I should give you my number. So we can keep in touch.”

Oscar’s face lights up as he scrambles for his own phone. You quickly swap devices, inputting your contact info and trying not to notice how his name looks lighting up your screen.

Once you’ve traded phones again, an awkward silence descends. You clutch your phone tightly, unsure how to say goodbye when this thing between you feels so new and delicate.

Oscar clears his throat, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. “Well, I suppose I should let you get on your way ...”

“Right, yes ...” You trail off, searching for the right words. Because as silly as it sounds, the thought of not seeing Oscar’s smile for who knows how long makes your chest unexpectedly tight.

Acting on impulse, you step forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders in a hug. Oscar’s arms immediately curl around your back, clutching you close.

You breathe him in, imprinting this moment in your memory. The noise of the paddock fades away until it’s just this — the two of you suspended in time.

Far too soon, Oscar pulls back reluctantly. His eyes search your face like he’s trying to memorize it.

“Travel safely, Princess. I’ll see you soon.” His voice holds a promise.

You nod, not trusting your voice. With a final squeeze of his hand, you turn and walk steadily towards the exit. Your bodyguards fall in step behind you.

You don’t look back, though you can feel Oscar’s gaze on you until you disappear from view. As your car pulls away, you finally chance a glance backwards, just in time to see Oscar still watching wistfully after you.

Your breath escapes in a shaky exhale and you clutch your phone like a lifeline. Everywhere else suddenly feels much too far away.

***

You collapse back onto your bed, phone already pressed to your ear before the first ring even finishes. Oscar picks up on the second, voice warm and teasing as always.

“Eager today, are we Princess?”

You roll your eyes even as your lips quirk up. “Oh hush, you know you wait just as anxiously for my calls.”

Oscar’s answering chuckle makes your heart skip a beat. “Guilty. I’ll gladly admit your voice is the highlight of my day.”

Warmth floods your cheeks as you get comfortable against the pillows. “Flatterer. Now distract me from the drudgery of royal life with some F1 gossip. How go things in the glamorous world of racing?”

“Oh where to even start!” Oscar launches eagerly into the latest paddock drama — teammate clashes, contract disputes, and salacious hookups. You listen eagerly, living vicariously through his tales.

“Meanwhile Lando has been his usual chaos gremlin self ...” Oscar continues, recounting his teammate’s latest antics.

You laugh until your sides ache, picturing the outrageous scenes. “Honestly, I don’t know how McLaren copes with you two!”

“We keep things lively, that’s for sure,” Oscar agrees, audibly grinning. “Although we’d love an even livelier paddock with a certain Danish princess around again ...”

He leaves the statement hanging tentatively. You chew your lip, heart racing as you gather your courage.

“Funny you should mention that … I’ve been thinking lately that it would be nice to attend a race again soon.”

Oscar’s sharp inhale crackles through the phone. “Really? You’d come to another race?” His voice turns playful. “Any particular reason for the sudden interest?”

You laugh, hoping he can’t hear the breathlessness in it. “Oh you know, miss the atmosphere, the excitement ...” You pause before adding softly, “Getting to see a certain Aussie driver again.”

Oscar makes a pleased little noise that sends butterflies swirling wildly. “Well I’m sure that driver would be absolutely thrilled to see your face in the paddock again.”

Warmth spreads through your chest, emboldening you further. “As it happens, my godmother is the Queen of Belgium. So it should be easy enough to arrange an appearance at the Belgian Grand Prix.”

“That’s perfect!” Oscar enthuses. “Spa is one of my favorite circuits too. Say you’ll be there?”

His boyish eagerness melts your heart. “I’ll speak to our communications secretary this week. I’m sure they can make it happen.”

“Brilliant.” The tender hope in Oscar’s voice finds its mirror in your own thudding heart. A new chapter is beginning.

You chat longer about lighter topics until Oscar reluctantly says he should get some rest before practice tomorrow.

“I suppose I should let you go then ...” He trails off reluctantly, neither wanting to be the one to end the call.

You clutch the phone tighter, casting wildly for an excuse to keep him on the line. “Wait, you haven’t told me what ridiculous outfit Lando is wearing today!”

Oscar huffs out a laugh. “Trust me, words don’t do justice to the monstrosity. I’ll send pictures so you can experience it fully.”

“It’s a deal.” You know you’re only delaying the inevitable, but the thought of hanging up is unbearable.

Just then, the bedroom door crashes open and your younger brother Christian strolls in.

“Hey Y/N, Mor wants to know if … is that Oscar you’re talking to?” He raises his eyebrows knowingly.

You frantically shoo him away but Christian swoops in and plucks the phone from your hand. “Sorry mate, gotta steal my sister back. Royal duties call and all that. But great chatting, bye now!”

Before you can wrestle the phone away, Christian ends the call with a cheeky grin.

You smack his shoulder indignantly. “You little brat! I was right in the middle of important diplomatic relations!”

Christian just cackles gleefully. “Oh yeah, I could tell. Your dopey romantic sighing was a big clue.” He laughs harder at your outraged stammers.

“Just you wait until you’re madly pining over someone, I’ll get my revenge,” you threaten.

But inside, not even Christian’s teasing can diminish your euphoria. The promise of seeing Oscar again soon eclipses all else.

***

Your heels click rapidly over the pavement as you sweep through the Spa paddock gates. Bodyguards trail discreetly behind but you barely notice them, eyes scanning the bustling crowd for one face.

And then you see him. Oscar stands just ahead, back turned as he bounces on his toes, head swiveling in search of you.

Joy bubbles up in your chest. You break into a run, calling his name. “Oscar!”

He whips around, eyes lighting up when they land on you. His arms open wide and you launch yourself into them with a breathless laugh.

Strong hands grip your waist, swinging you in an enthusiastic circle before setting you back on your feet. Neither of you make any move to step back, standing tangled together.

“You came,” Oscar murmurs, voice awed like he can’t quite believe you’re real.

You lean into him, his warmth chasing away the months spent missing him. “Of course. After all, I made a promise to a certain driver.”

Oscar’s answering smile outshines the sun. Reluctantly, he loosens his hold, keeping one hand entwined with yours.

“Well then, allow me to escort you inside properly.” He presses a quick kiss to your knuckles before leading you towards the paddock entrance.

After scanning your VIP guest pass, courtesy of Oscar, you pass through security hand-in-hand, giddy smiles fixed in place.

The paddock buzzes with activity but you only have eyes for Oscar as he guides you straight to the McLaren garage.

Mechanics glance up curiously as you enter behind Oscar. He squeezes your hand, leaning in close.

“Ready to meet the team, Princess?” At your answering nod, he steers you confidently through the organized chaos.

You run a suddenly nervous hand over your hair as Oscar approaches a genial looking man conversing with a slimmer bearded man.

“Zak, Andrea — there’s someone special I want you both to meet.”

The two men turn, eyebrows raising in polite expectation. Oscar gently tugs you forward.

“This is Crown Princess Y/N of Denmark. Y/N, meet Zak Brown, our CEO, and Andrea Stella, team principal.”

Zak’s eyebrows climb higher but he recovers smoothly, extending a hand. “Your Royal Highness, welcome. We’re honored to host you in our garage.”

You return his firm handshake. “The honor is mine, thank you. Your team has been so welcoming.”

After greeting Andrea as well, Oscar steers you further inside just as a mop of fluffy brown hair zooms by.

“Oscar, mate! There you are, I’ve been ...” The words die on his lips as he spots you, mouth falling open comically. His eyes dart between you and Oscar rapidly.

“Lando, come meet the princess!” Oscar calls out cheekily.

Lando snaps his jaw shut, looking utterly bewildered but offering you a hasty bow. “Your Highness! I mean, lovely to meet you, really.”

Amusement flickers through you at his gobsmacked expression. Oscar shoots you a playful wink over Lando’s shoulder as he scrambles to regain composure.

“But, wait.” Lando glances between you again in confusion. “You mean all those times you cooed ’good morning, Princess’ over the phone … you were talking to an actual princess!”

Oscar bursts out laughing while you press a hand to your mouth to smother your own giggles. Lando flushes but eventually joins in your laughter.

After extracting a promise to explain everything later, Oscar steers you away so they can focus on final prep.

“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of during the race before I have to suit up,” he promises, getting you settled with refreshments.

The anticipation builds until finally the cars are screaming away from the grid in a blur of color. Your nails dig into your palms as positions shuffle wildly on the first lap.

But soon Oscar settles into a rhythm, battling wheel to wheel with Lewis Hamilton. You’re on your feet with every overtake, yelling yourself hoarse.

The final laps loom with Oscar still fighting for a podium finish. But suddenly disaster strikes for the leaders. Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc collide attempting to lap a backmarker on the Kemmel Straight.

You watch in disbelief as both the Red Bull and Ferrari limp to a stop off the track, clearing the path for Oscar to sweep through into the lead.

The McLaren garage roars in elation as Oscar maintains the gap and finally, finally crosses the line to claim his maiden Grand Prix win.

Chaos erupts as a stampede of papaya uniforms makes its way towards parc fermé but Oscar’s performance coach Kim grasps your arm urgently. “Quickly, he’ll want you there for this!”

Kim rushes you down towards the area where Oscar guides his car to a stop. He vaults out, pumping both fists and clambering atop the chassis in triumph.

Your breath catches at the sight of his windswept hair and exultant grin. As McLaren swarms Oscar, his gaze catches on you at the barrier, pressed close by Kim.

In two strides Oscar is right there, joy and adrenaline shining in his eyes. His hand cups your cheek … and then his lips find yours.

The roar around you fades away. For one perfect, suspended moment, your world narrows down to Oscar’s lips slanted over yours, his fingers tangled in your hair.

When you break apart, eyes flying open, the full reality crashes back in. But with Oscar’s breathless laugh warming your skin, the rest of the world no longer matters.

***

You pace the plush hotel carpet, nerves jangling as you await the imminent video call with your family. Since Oscar’s podium kiss yesterday, you’ve been hyper aware of your phone blowing up with notifications but too anxious to check them.

A brisk knock precedes your royal secretary poking his head in. “The call is ready whenever you are, Your Highness.”

Squaring your shoulders, you take a seat at the polished desk as the large monitor springs to life. Your family’s faces fill the screen, ranging from sympathetic (Isabella) to highly amused (Christian).

Before you can get a word in, the royal PR advisors elbow into view, expressions like thunderclouds.

“Your Royal Highness, might we have a word about this … incident from the race?” The chief advisor’s tone drips disapproval.

Ice trickles down your spine but you keep your face neutral. “Of course.”

“I trust you’ve seen the coverage?” At your hesitant nod, the advisor continues, “Then you understand what an embarrassment this is, how damaging to the dignity of the crown.”

You clench your jaw, anger rising. But he barrels on, “Such scandalous behavior, and broadcast globally! You must see how this recklessness reflects poorly on Denmark.”

The rest of the advisors murmur emphatic agreement. Your cheeks burn in humiliation even as you desperately blink back furious tears.

“The narrative has already spiraled out of control. Such associations cannot be tolerated from the future queen.”

The scorn in his tone ignites your temper. But before you can spit out a scathing retort, a commanding voice interrupts.

“Enough!” Your father’s stern face fills the screen, pinning the advisors with an icy glare. They recoil, mouths snapping shut.

Satisfied, your father turns to you, expression softening. “My dear, you’ve done nothing wrong. What matters most is that you’re happy.”

Hope flickers tentatively inside you as the advisors gape. But your father silences them with another quelling look.

“I know a thing or two about duty versus matters of the heart.” His eyes soften, finding your mother. “I’ll not see my daughter denied the same chance at love that brought me such joy.”

Your mother smiles gently, affection shining through the screen. On her other side, Isabella squeezes her shoulder in solidarity.

The fight drains from the advisors under your father’s resolute gaze. With a few grumbled concessions, they disconnect from the call.

Your muscles uncoil in relief as your attention returns fully to your family. Isabella waggles her eyebrows.

“Soooo … looks like someone had an eventful race!”

Heat floods your cheeks but you can’t suppress a giddy smile. “It just sort of happened in the heat of the moment.”

“This Oscar must be something special,” your mother remarks kindly.

Your insides turn to mush at the memory of Oscar’s kiss. “He really is. I can’t explain it, but it feels … right with him.”

Your normally stoic mother looks touched. “Then he has my blessing.”

On her other side, Christian smirks. “Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re in looooove.” He exaggerates a swoon, cackling when you stick your tongue out at him.

“Hush dear, let your sister be happy,” your mother chides, swatting his shoulder before smiling indulgently. “Reminds me of another young prince long ago, besotted with an Australian girl ...”

Your father laughs, eyes crinkling. “Too right, darling. Clearly our Y/N takes after me.” He winks at you. “We Danes do seem to have a weakness for Aussies.”

You groan good-naturedly at the gentle teasing, buoyed by your family’s support. With their love behind you, the rest no longer matters.

You conclude the call with hugs blown through the screen and a heart full to bursting. No matter what the coming days hold, you won’t be facing them alone.

Later, a hesitant knock interrupts your contented musings. You open the door to find Oscar, eyebrows pinched anxiously.

But at the sight of your radiant smile, the tension melts from his frame. His hands settle comfortably on your waist like coming home.

“So ...” he begins, nose scrunching up adorably, “Think your family will let you keep me around?”

You answer by pulling him down into a long, sweet kiss. When you finally separate, foreheads pressed together, Oscar sighs out, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Your answering laugh fills the space between you as he lifts you effortlessly into a spinning embrace. The setting sun gilds the hotel room in amber, basking you both in warmth and promise.

Let the world say what they will. You’ve made your choice, the only one your heart would allow. And with Oscar’s arms encircling you now, you know you’re right where you belong.

***

“Come on, it’ll be great! When’s the next chance you’ll get to come down under?”

Oscar’s pleading face fills your laptop screen, bottom lip poking out beseechingly. You try to stand firm, but your resolve is crumbling.

“I don’t know … won’t I be imposing on your family time?”

Oscar waves a hand breezily. “Nah, Mum and Dad have been hassling me nonstop to bring you for a visit. Trust me, they’ll smother you with Aussie hospitality.”

You chew your lip thoughtfully. A trip together does sound tempting. And you’re endlessly curious to see where Oscar grew up.

Sensing your wavering, Oscar presses his advantage. “There’s so much I want to show you! The beach I learned to surf at, my favorite cafes and shops ...”

His voice turns coaxing. “And just think, falling asleep under the southern stars ...”

Your heart flutters traitorously. Oscar knows your weakness for astronomy. With a defeated huff, you nod.

“Oh alright, you’ve convinced me. I’ll see if I can clear my schedule for next month.”

Oscar whoops, pumping a victorious fist. “Yes! You’re gonna love it, I promise.”

The rest of the call passes in eager planning until Oscar reluctantly disconnects to start his day. As the screen goes dark, butterflies swell in your stomach. A whole trip together!

The weeks crawl by agonizingly until finally you’re boarding the royal jet bound for Melbourne, giddiness rising with each mile.

Oscar is waiting when you deplane, sweeping you up joyfully the second your feet hit the tarmac. You cling to him, breathing in the scent of home you’ve missed so much.

As the hug extends well past proper etiquette, your bodyguard Henrik pointedly clears his throat. You spring apart, blushing when you meet his knowing gaze.

Oscar just grins unrepentantly, grabbing your hand to lead you towards where his parents are waiting.

You spot them immediately — Oscar’s smile mirrored on his mother’s face and his kind eyes reflected in his father’s crinkled gaze. They hurry over, clasping your hands warmly.

“Your Royal Highness, we’re so honored to finally meet you!” His mother gushes. “Oscar’s told us so much, I feel as if we know you already.”

You smile, charmed by her easy manner. “The honor is mine, Mrs. Piastri. Please, call me Y/N.”

She pats your hand merrily. “Of course, dear! And you must call me Nicole. Now come, let’s get you home and settled.”

The ride to Oscar’s childhood home passes quickly, filled with lively conversation. His parents’ sweet banter reminds you so much of your own.

When you arrive, Nicole loops her arm through yours, bustling you inside. “We’ve freshened up Oscar’s old room for you, I do hope it’s comfortable.”

You take in the posters of racing legends and cricketers adorning the walls, the cluttered bookshelves full of well-loved texts. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

“Excellent!” Nicole claps her hands. “Now, you two get settled. Dinner will be ready shortly.”

She disappears down the hall with a parting wink that makes Oscar flush beet red. You stifle a laugh and let him tug you further inside.

Dinner passes in a blur of delicious food and easy laughter. Chris’ eyes twinkle knowingly as he refills your wine.

“We’re just delighted to finally meet the girl who’s made our Oscar so happy.”

Oscar covers his face in exaggerated mortification, but his fingers squeeze yours under the table. You lift your joined hands to brush a kiss over his knuckles when his parents aren’t looking.

The peaceful mood continues as Nicole breaks out photo albums. You coo over baby pictures of Oscar, smothering laughter at his gap-toothed grin and wild hair.

Yawns eventually take over and everyone reluctantly shuffles off to bed. In Oscar’s room, you borrow his old karting club shirt to sleep in.

Oscar looks up from turning down the duvet, eyes darkening as he takes you in. “This was a terrible idea, you looking so cute in my clothes.”

You giggle and kiss the tip of his nose before climbing into bed and patting the space next to you. Oscar obliges, pulling you close and nuzzling into your hair.

Outside the window, the infinity of the southern skies beckons. But here in Oscar’s arms, you have everything you need.

Oscar hums contentedly, dropping a kiss to your hair as your eyes drift closed.

“Sweet dreams, my princess,” he whispers. You float off cradled in his warmth, perfectly at peace.

The rest of the trip passes in blissful domesticity — lazy beach days, intimate dinners, long talks under the stars. Meeting Oscar’s family feels like coming to a second home.

On your last night, you creep outside to sit curled against him on the back porch, committing every detail to memory.

“I don’t want this to end,” you whisper into the quiet night.

Oscar presses a lingering kiss below your ear. “It’s only the start for us.”

And basking in his touch, the infinite potential of the future unfolding before you, you know he’s right. This is just the beginning.

***

You smooth your hands over your dress, peering anxiously out the palace window overlooking the winding driveway. Any moment now, the car bringing Oscar should pull through the gates.

It’s his first time visiting the palace and meeting your family officially as your boyfriend. You know they’ll love him, but nerves still flutter in your chest.

The crunch of tires on gravel draws your gaze back outside. You watch Oscar emerge from the car, craning his head back to take in the towering palace facade.

Unable to wait any longer, you gather your skirts and hurry downstairs just as he steps inside the grand entryway.

Oscar turns at the click of your heels, face melting into a smile. In a few quick strides, he sweeps you into his arms, spinning you joyfully.

You cling to him, breathing in the soothing scent of home you’ve missed. When he sets you down, hands come up to frame your face tenderly, thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“There’s my beautiful girl. I’ve missed you so much, Princess.”

Heart swelling, you lean in to capture his lips in a kiss that conveys weeks of longing. Oscar responds urgently, fingers tangling in your hair to keep you close.

A pointed cough interrupts your reunion. You pull back to see your brother Christian smirking knowingly.

“Well now I see why you were so eager for Oscar’s visit. Should I come back later?”

You stick your tongue out at him even as a blush stains your cheeks. Taking Oscar’s hand, you lead him towards the family wing.

“Come on, everyone’s excited to finally meet you properly.”

Voices carry from the dining room as you approach. Inside, your family looks up, faces alight with warmth and curiosity.

Your father strides forward first, clasping Oscar’s hand firmly. “Oscar, welcome. We’re delighted to have you here.”

Oscar returns the handshake graciously. “The honor is mine, Your Majesty. Thank you for the invitation.”

More greetings follow before your mother guides everyone to the table. Oscar pulls out your chair, pressing a discreet kiss to your temple as you sit. Happiness bubbles up inside at having him here with your family.

Dinner passes enjoyably, conversation flowing. Oscar charms them all effortlessly with his quick wit and humor. Laughter fills the room, the atmosphere light and intimate.

With dessert finished, your siblings seize their chance to grill Oscar playfully.

“Sooo tell us,” Isabella begins, propping her chin on her hands. “What exactly are your intentions with our dear sister?”

Oscar just grins, unfazed. “Why, to make her happy every single day, of course.”

You melt at his simple sincerity, grasping his hand under the table.

“Good answer!” Christian crows. “But know if you ever hurt her, you’ll have the entire Danish army to answer to.”

Despite his teasing tone, you know Christian means every word. Oscar inclines his head solemnly.

“You have my word such a day will never come. Her happiness means everything to me.”

Your siblings appear satisfied, moving on to pepper Oscar with questions about his career and interests. He takes their antics in stride, witty comebacks drawing fond laughter from your parents.

The relaxed family atmosphere reminds you so much of that first dinner at Oscar’s childhood home. Your heart swells with quiet joy at how seamlessly he fits here too.

Eventually Oscar politely extracts you both, citing early flights in the morning. Alone in the hall, he sags against the wall in exaggerated relief.

“Whew, your family is something else! I think that interrogation was more intense than any press conference.”

You laugh and swat his shoulder before lifting on your toes to kiss him sweetly. “You were wonderful. I’m so happy you’re here.”

Oscar’s eyes soften. “Me too, Princess. Being here with you feels like home.”

Heedless of any lingering eyes, you kiss him again under the twinkling chandelier.

A loud retching sound interrupts you. “Ugh, get a room you two!” Christian complains, dodging your swat.

Oscar just tugs you closer with a chuckle. “Don’t worry mate, I plan to.”

He silences Christian’s protests with another searing kiss. And surrounded by Oscar’s warmth, you can’t bring yourself to care who sees.

***

Moonlight filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft glow. You lay curled against Oscar’s chest, fingers tracing idle patterns over his heart.

The steady rhythm soothes you, but your own heart feels anything but calm. There’s something you need to discuss, but nerves stall your tongue.

Sensing your tension, Oscar’s hand comes up to sift gently through your hair. “Penny for your thoughts, love?”

You lean into his touch, gathering courage. “I was just thinking about the future. Our future.” You twist to meet his gaze. “I know it’s still early days for us, but if this continues to get more serious ...”

You trail off uncertainly, but Oscar’s eyes are warm with encouragement. Bolstered, you continue.

“There are certain expectations that come with being attached to the heir to the throne. Traditions and duties to learn.”

You watch Oscar’s face closely, but he simply nods thoughtfully. “Of course, that makes sense. I’m happy to learn whatever I need to.”

Relief trickles through you. You prop yourself up on one elbow, smiling softly down at him.

“For example, even before my mother was engaged to my father, she decided to learn Danish. The protocol and duties, the public role … it was a massive life change.”

You take a bracing breath. “I don’t expect you to make such changes overnight. But someday, if this continues on the path we hope ...”

You trail off meaningfully. Oscar’s hand comes up to cradle your face. “Hey, if being with you means learning Danish, or attending stuffy banquets, or anything else, I’m in this 100%.”

His eyes bore into yours. “I’ll do whatever it takes to build a life together.”

Emotion clogs your throat. You have to swallow thickly before responding. “Well, maybe we start small then. How about I teach you a few phrases?”

Oscar grins, pulling you back down against him. “Ja, det lyder perfekt.”

You jerk back in surprise, swatting his chest. “You brat, have you been practicing without telling me?”

Oscar’s eyes dance with laughter. “Maybe just a few key phrases. Wanted to surprise you.”

His smile turns tender. “I’d love nothing more than for you to teach me, sweetheart.”

Happiness bubbles up inside you. You snuggle closer, thinking. “Alright, let’s start simple. Like hej simply means hello.”

Oscar repeats the phrase dutifully, brow furrowing in concentration. You cover his hand with yours.

“Jeg elsker dig,” you murmur, gazing into his eyes.

“Jeg elsker dig,” Oscar echoes. “What does it mean?”

Sudden shyness has you ducking your head. “It means I love you.”

Oscar’s sharp inhale lifts your head. He grasps both of your hands, staring deeply into your eyes.

“Jeg elsker dig,” he repeats reverently.

Emotion clogs your throat. You lean in, whispering against his lips, “Jeg elsker dig, Oscar.”

The kiss starts soft and unhurried, a confirmation of feelings conveyed best without words. Oscar’s arms wrap securely around you as the kiss deepens, pouring every ounce of love and promise into it.

When you eventually break apart, Oscar keeps you cradled close, dropping kisses into your hair. “What else can you teach me?”

Happiness bubbles up at his tentative Danish endearment. You settle back against him, whispering translations as his steady heartbeat lulls you towards sleep.

But too soon, Oscar is reluctantly packing to leave, both clinging to these last private hours before he has to set off for the next race.

You wind yourself around him, unwilling to let go. Oscar holds you close, murmuring promises of next visits and calls into your hair.

As you finally part at the airport, his whispered “jeg elsker dig” warms you from the inside out. No matter the miles between you, your hearts remain entwined.

***

You adjust the diamond clips in your elegantly twisted updo, scanning your reflection critically. The deep blue gown hugs your frame perfectly, but nerves still flutter in your stomach.

Because tonight, Oscar will be attending his first official function as your partner — a lavish gala in honor of the new children’s hospital bearing your mother’s name.

A knock precedes Oscar peeking his head in, hands clapped over his eyes. “Safe to look?”

You smooth your skirt with a shaky exhale. “Yes, come in.”

Oscar drops his hands, mouth falling open. “Wow. You look absolutely stunning tonight, my love.”

He takes your hands, eyes roving appreciatively over you. “Going to have to beat all the envious blokes away with a stick.”

You laugh, swatting his shoulder lightly. “Oh hush. You look rather dashing yourself, Mr. Piastri.”

And he does in his impeccably tailored tuxedo, hair swept back neatly. You brush a piece of imaginary lint from his lapel, nerves melting away under his warm gaze.

“Shall we?” He offers his arm gallantly. You lay your hand atop it, spine straightening.

“We shall.”

The ballroom glitters under fairy lights as you make your entrance, immediately garnering interested looks and murmurs. On your arm, Oscar draws admiring glances of his own with his rakish good looks and easy confidence.

You greet various dignitaries and philanthropists, Oscar a steady, charming presence at your side. As you speak with the hospital’s key figures, his hand at the small of your back anchors you.

But as the speeches drag on, Oscar leans in subtly. “Is it terrible I’m already bored senseless? I’d rather actually meet these kids we’re meant to be helping.”

You hide a smile behind your wine glass. The same restlessness plagues you as schmoozing patrons preen and prattle.

As dessert wraps up, an idea strikes you. You catch Oscar’s eye, tilting your head meaningfully at a side exit before excusing yourself discretely.

Understanding dawns on his face and he trails casually after you. In the entry hall, you hurry to a secluded alcove, grabbing his hand.

“Quick, while we won’t be missed. Let’s actually go see the children.”

Excitement flashes across Oscar’s face. “Brilliant thinking. Lead the way, Princess.”

Adrenaline courses through you as you sneak out to the waiting car, bodyguards eyeing you curiously.

“Rigshospitalet, please. Quickly.”

At the children’s hospital, you sweep inside, Oscar at your heels. The receptionist gapes as you approach.

“So sorry to drop by unannounced. We were hoping there might be a chance for us to visit with some of the patients?”

The receptionist’s mouth opens and closes before she stutters, “O-of course, Your Highness, right away!” Clearly your boldness has paid off.

You exchange exhilarated looks with Oscar as she pages a nurse to escort you up. On the cheery pediatric ward, you peek into rooms, greeting curious families.

At one doorway, a gasp stops you short. A little girl sits up in bed, pointing.

“Mama, it’s the princess! And her boyfriend!”

You glance at Oscar to find him rubbing his neck bashfully. Clearly his fame extends beyond the F1 sphere here.

You laugh and enter slowly. “We were hoping we might visit you, if that’s alright?”

The girl — Else — nods eagerly, blond braids bouncing. Her mother rises to curtsy but you wave her off kindly as Oscar produces a small plush racecar from his pocket, to Else’s delight.

As you chat and play with Else, joy lights up her face. For a short time, she’s just a normal girl again. Your chest aches at her bright spirit despite her poor health.

All too soon, a nurse taps her watch. As you make your goodbyes, Else throws her thin arms around your waist.

“Thank you! This was like a fairytale.” Over her head, her mother mouths a tearful thank you of her own.

You hug Else gently before kneeling down. “It was our honor. You stay strong, little one.”

Her returning whisper warms your heart. “Don’t worry, I will!”

Similar scenes play out in room after room. Your cheeks ache from smiling but it’s a welcome ache. The children’s awed joy makes the real reason for tonight crystal clear.

Watching Oscar kneel patiently as a shy boy shows him a prized toy car, your heart clenches with love. Catching your gaze, Oscar’s eyes mirror the same emotion.

Far too soon, your bodyguards notify you it’s time to return before your absence draws notice. A chorus of disappointed groans follows you out.

Back at the gala, you slip in just in time for closing toasts. No one seems the wiser about your little detour.

Under the table, Oscar squeezes your hand. The contact says it all — this is what truly matters. Not accolades or commendations, but joy brought to hurting hearts.

You know you’ll be back. Both of you. Not for galas or acclaim, but for the chance to see young faces light up, if only for a moment.

Late that night, you slow dance alone in the empty ballroom, music and laughter faded. Oscar’s arms circle you from behind, chin tucking onto your shoulder.

“I think tonight was the most important royal function I’ve ever attended,” he murmurs.

You cover his hands with yours, leaning back into him with a contented sigh. No more words need be said.

The rest of the world may see events like tonight as social currency and networking. But you hold the truth in your heart — the only currency that counts can’t be bought, only given freely through love.

***

Two Years Later

You smooth your hands over your dress, pulse thrumming as you await the imminent news conference. Just hours ago, the palace formally announced your engagement to Oscar, sending the public into a frenzy.

Now, you’re about to face the media together for the first time as an engaged couple. Press stands crowd the palace gardens, cameras poised and ready.

At your side, Oscar seems calm and collected, fingers threaded loosely with yours. But you sense the storm brewing beneath his tranquil surface.

You reach up and gently adjust his suit collar, fingers lingering on the lapels as you meet his eyes. He gives you a small, grateful smile before you both turn to face the expectant crowd.

Because today also brings another announcement — one that will upend Oscar’s world irreversibly.

Your father steps forward first to formally confirm the engagement and expound on Oscar’s character. As he returns to your side, Oscar squeezes your hand and you nod in encouragement.

Oscar clears his throat, stepping closer to the microphones. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Y/N and I are over the moon at the chance to spend our lives together.”

He gazes at you softly before continuing. “I’m truly the luckiest man in the world to have won the heart of Denmark’s lovely princess.”

You have to resist the urge to kiss him senseless then and there. Cameras flash brightly as Oscar details your romantic (and heavily abridged) love story, punctuated with charming wit.

But gradually, his mirth fades. With another fortifying hand squeeze, he steels himself for the harder part.

“While I’m elated at this new chapter ahead, it also brings difficult changes. I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1 following this season’s conclusion.”

Murmurs ripple through the crowd. Oscar’s grip tightens as he pushes forward.

“As a member of the royal family, I will no longer be able to continue racing competitively. I am grateful to have achieved my dream this year of winning the championship.”

His voice falters briefly and your heart clenches. Racing is Oscar’s passion — having to walk away is unimaginably hard.

Oscar visibly gathers himself. “But as difficult as this is, marrying Y/N is worth any sacrifice. She is my true dream now.”

He turns to you then, eyes glistening. “The honor of being your husband eclipses any trophy or medal. You are my greatest victory.”

Emotion clogs your throat and without thinking, you wrap him in a fierce embrace. The rules of propriety fade away, only your pride and love for Oscar remain.

His arms clutch you close as flashes erupt around you. But in this moment, you see only each other.

Eventually you separate and Oscar takes your hand once more, gracing you with a tender smile. He turns back to the microphones for one last address.

“Til Danmark og det danske folk. Jeg lover at tjene jer med ære, respekt og kærlighed.”

The Danish press reacts first, visibly surprised and impressed at Oscar’s speech in their native tongue.

You blink back a fresh wave of tears at his poignant promise — to serve Denmark with honor, respect, and love.

Overcome with emotion, you step forward to the microphones as well.

“Oscar’s love for me and Denmark is clear to all who meet him. I am truly blessed to have found such a selfless, caring partner.”

Your voice wavers with feeling. “Though it grieves me to see his racing career ended prematurely, I could not be more proud of the man he is.”

You reach for Oscar’s hand, gazing at him through tear-filled eyes. “He gives up much out of love for me. I only hope I can bring him a fraction of the joy in return.”

Oscar’s fingers tighten around yours, eyes shining with affection. Cameras flash furiously at your raw display of love and emotion.

But you remain lost in Oscar’s eyes, the rest of the world fading away. In this moment, all that matters is your shared devotion and the bright future stretching before you.

Questions start flying from the excited press corps but Oscar politely extracts you both, ceding the floor to the waiting palace officials.

Alone inside once more, Oscar sags against the wall in clear emotional exhaustion. You wrap him in your arms, heart aching for the pain this transition causes.

Oscar clings to you tightly, face pressed into your hair. “I meant every word,” he whispers fiercely. “You are my whole world now.”

You draw back just far enough to meet his eyes, hoping he can see the depths of your love reflected there.

“I know, min kæreste. We’ll face this new future together.”

The answering kiss speaks what words cannot. No matter what comes, your love remains constant.

A new path lies ahead now, one you will walk hand in hand, till the end of your days.

***

Five Years Later

The roar of engines draws nearer as your car nears the Copenhagen street circuit. In the seat beside you, Oscar bounces his leg restlessly, face alight with anticipation.

In the backseat, your three-year-old daughter, Margrethe (affectionately called Maise for short), mimics her father’s excitement, chattering cheerfully about anything and everything.

You reach over to still Oscar’s jostling knee, smiling indulgently. “Easy there, we’ve barely arrived and you’re already wound up.”

Oscar shoots you a boyish grin. “Can you blame me? It’s been so long since I was last in the paddock. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

Your heart swells with quiet awe once more at the sacrifices Oscar has made for your future together. While racing still runs through his veins, his duties as Crown Prince of Denmark now take precedence.

But today offers a joyous reunion, with Oscar instrumental in bringing Formula 1 racing back to Danish soil for the first time since 1962.

As the car pulls through the paddock entrance, Oscar cranes his neck eagerly, drinking in the familiar organized chaos. Before the door even opens, you hear a familiar voice shouting.

“He lives! The prodigal prince returns!” A blur of McLaren papaya hurtles towards Oscar as he steps out.

Oscar just manages to brace himself before Lando Norris tackles him in an exuberant hug. Laughter bubbles out of Oscar as he returns the embrace.

“Good to see you too, mate. It’s been way too long.”

You round the car to find Oscar’s former team already swarming him, clapping his back and jostling each other good-naturedly to greet their long-lost driver.

Oscar’s eyes shine as he falls back into easy banter, trading inside jokes and reminiscing. With Maise balanced on your hip, you hang back contentedly, letting Oscar have this moment.

As the reunion finally winds down, Lando gestures to you and Maise. “And who do we have here? Don’t tell me this little beauty is your daughter?”

Oscar beams, waving you both over. “She is indeed! Lando, meet my little girl.”

Lando pretends to stagger back in shock. “No way, our little Oscar is all grown up and domesticated now!”

Oscar shoves him playfully before sweeping Maise into his arms. “What can I say, my fast living days are behind me now.” He kisses Maise’s wavy hair, eyes finding yours. “I’ve got all I need right here.”

Your insides turn mushy at the adoration in his voice. The years have only deepened your love further.

More drivers trickle over to greet Oscar, ribbing him good-naturedly about his new royal status. But the obvious affection underlying the teasing is clear.

Zak Brown claps Oscar on the back. “It’s so good to have you back, even just for a day. You and your family should stay, watch the race from the garage!”

For a fleeting moment, naked longing flashes across Oscar’s face at the thought of experiencing race day excitement again up close.

But reality settles back in quickly, his expression turning regretful. “That’s a lovely offer, truly. But I’m afraid we’ll have to make our way to the royal box.”

He bounces Maise gently, tone wry. “Some of us have a job to do handing out trophies later.” Maise giggles and tugs at his ear happily, blissfully unaware of the wistfulness simmering beneath her father’s smile.

You slip your arm through Oscar’s, offering a comforting squeeze. His answering smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

After more fond farewells, you exit the nostalgic bubble of the garage. Oscar pauses, taking a moment to just breathe and gather himself.

You shift Maise to your other hip, wrapping your free arm around his waist. Oscar leans into you gratefully, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Can’t believe it’s been five years already,” he murmurs. “Feels like another lifetime.”

You smile up at him sadly. “I know, my love. But look at everything you’ve accomplished for Denmark in that time. This race wouldn’t even be happening without you.”

Oscar huffs a small laugh. “Too right. Who needs driving when I’ve got you two anyway?”

He tickles Maise playfully, eliciting delighted giggles. The melancholy edge has left his eyes now, replaced by contentment.

Hand in hand, with Maise toddling happily between you, the three of you set off together towards the royal box. The Danish Grand Prix awaits, along with the bright future you continue building as a family.

This may no longer be Oscar’s world, but he now shapes the path for future generations of drivers. After the race, as Oscar graciously awards the beaming winner while Maise excitedly cheers from the side of the podium, you know this is precisely where he’s meant to be.

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sungvrhs · 6 months

Text

Rile Me Up ; Lee Heeseung

Genre; Explicit | Heeseung x Female!reader word count; 6.1k

note: It's my first time writing an explicit content, I don't really know how it turned out😭. This took a slight turn ISTG TT.

dedicated to my bestie @heelvsted HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!

It hasn't been long since you both were tied to the knots of marriage and Heeseung was typically an introverted and a reserved person; always letting pass the situations that could have led to any sort of argument. You couldn’t remember even if you guys had any sort of argument or if Heeseung had ever lost his temper. He usually remained calm and poise which just made you even more curious of his intimidating nature that you heard from his friends but never got to see. There was merely, according to Beomgyu, his very close mate, a chance to aggravate that side of him, which was quite upsetting to you as you were like an open book to your man as she could easily read through the slightest expressions worn upon your face, whilst you here were still not exposed to the different natures he possessed.

But one thing that Heeseung’s sister slipped to you was how he would easily get jealous over the people he loved. “What do you mean by him getting jealous over you guys?” You remember the conversation that you had over the tea as Lee Iseul spoke, “Like a typical man, Heeseung gets jealous when he gets undivided attention, or the lack of interest when he is out conversing with the former person. And since you’re his woman, I bet this trait of his would be much more polished than before.” She spoke while nudging onto your shoulder. It was amusing how you and Iseul had grown closer after your marriage and that now you both were like each other’s ride or die; whether it be lending ears to each other’s rant or taking relationship advice, it was always the both of you slipping in each other’s direct messages.

“Oh you’re totally going to the party on the weekend Y/n. Come on! Don’t be a party pooper.” Iseul whined, not liking how introverted you had grown due to the sudden change in your ‘MBTI,’ as you labeled it. She didn’t buy it as an excuse from your end as she dragged you back to your room. “Now this is what I call a ‘gathering to gossip girl’ outfit. And your gaze went to what she was holding; a sleek, all black dress. “Oh I won’t buy the simplicity of the dress cause you’re wearing it exactly the way I want.” You heard Iseul speak as she pointed a finger at you whilst you tried to fight back, letting a sigh escape your lips. “But Iseul, you know Heeseung hates such attire.” Iseul made her way towards your jewelry, as she found a matching choker to compliment the pair of dangling earrings and a 3 inch heel. “Oh come on, when did you exactly wear any outfit like that in front of my brother?” You opened your mouth to speak a few words but closed them back as you pressed your lips in a thin line. ‘Right, when did I actually ever wear an outfit like that in front of him.’ “You’re married to him, Y/n. Not kept as a captive that you can’t wear what you want.” It was extremely new coming from her end but you did agree to what she said. You wanted to try it for once and she gave you the slightest hunch of courage. “Besides, who knows what would awaken in Mr.Lee for the day after you dress like a three course meal.” You turned at her comment, feeling your cheeks burning just at the mere thought of it. “ISEUL!” You spoke, hiding your face in your hands as she laughed at your reaction. “You both are a freaking match made in heaven.” And she knew exactly what she meant.

“Iseul, I don’t know if I look decent enough-” You got cut off by Iseul, “You look absolutely gorgeous darling. What a riveting sight for my brother. How did he dare not to acknowledge such beauty?” Your cheeks flushed at her words. Well, it wasn’t that you weren’t used to compliments, but the mere mention of your husband just made it hard for you to accept as a lump formed in your throat. He never exactly spoke it out in words, or maybe you were just a little bad at picking up on hints. You were a little expressive and quite shy type at the same time while he reflected a strange cold demeanor; keeping the conversations to a minimum, not at all a party person, letting his soft smile elicit when he was surrounded by his friends, family, including you.

You took one glance at the mirror as you heard the honking of the car, catching both of yours attention as Iseul speaks. “I'll get it.” You nodded as you followed her a little later after you heard slight giggles of the Lee siblings. “Nah it’s always you who takes the most time to dress up!” You heard Heeseung speak as you made your way out of the room, your heels clicking as they caught the attention of the both of them, leaving Heeseung awestruck at the breathless beauty that stood in front of him, the thin layer of blush lightening up with the natural one as you broke apart the eye contact with him. “Come on love birds, you both can have a staring contest later.” You heard Iseul speak as Heeseung scratched his nape. “After you ladies.”

Reaching the destination felt like a gust of wind as you had almost started to drown in the starry night above your head but it all came to a halt when the car came to rest. Iseul made her way out first as she went to greet her friends as you made your way out of the car, taking a minute to adjust your hair as you felt Heeseung snaking his hand around your waist, making you hault your movements for a bit as you turned to face him, only to find him looking up at you already. His blueberry hair complimented the shades of moonlight as he had that soft smile on his face. “Are we good to go?” You took a quick glance down your dress as you nodded, interlocking your hands with his.

“Y/n! Over here!” You both made way towards the center of the whole but your attention was averted when you heard your name being called out. You turned around as your mouth parted due to the amusement. “Jay! Oh my god!” You made your way towards your cousin, more like your half brother as you left Heeseung behind, letting alone the man confused at what caught your eye. He followed your fading steps, only to be met by slight giggles eliciting from your ends as he raised his eyebrows in perplexity.

“Y/n! My god you changed within a few years. Thank god, otherwise you were so unbearable.” Jay joked, making a face of disgust as you slapped his arm, earning a chuckle from his end. “At least better than you, cousin.” He had his mouth agape dramatically as he spoke. “Oh, you didn't just cousin-zoned me did you?” He had his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he spoke, earning an eye roll from you. Why of course he was your cousin, not until his father and your mother got married after your father passed away, so now you both were practically step siblings. But the thing that kept the boundaries straight was that you both had platonic love for each other. Whilst you both were the single child of your families, you both helped to fill the void of having a sibling to each other. He never turned down any of your childish requests and so didn’t you. But it was about time that after he turned 19, he got a scholarship acceptance to the States and had moved there, applying for the better opportunities to continue his studies and later planned and accomplished on setting his own firm. It was later the following year that you had applied for an online remote job which ended up being from his very own firm. And that is how you both were able to connect back after ages.

Before you had the chance to answer him, you felt a hand softly pulling you away from his embrace as you looked up to find Heeseung, completely void of any sort of cheerful expression. That facade of bliss and joy that he had on his charming face a few minutes ago vanished into thin air. "Hi I assume you're, Mr.Park? The one Y/n talks about the most." You hear Heeseung speak, getting the slight hint of sarcasm dropping down his words as he makes eye contact with you, wearing that facade of an adoring smile on his face, proving that he was, indeed, amused to have met him. You mentally scoff at his actions but you're slightly pleased at finding something that could rile him up. You heard Jay softly chuckling as he was embarrassed at Heeseung's words, yet he nodded, extending a handshake to him as Heeseung returned it politely. It was sure that he didn't have beefs with him for the start but they could turn into one if the conversation made a U-turn.

"I'm delighted to know that I'm familiar to someone as respectable as you Mr.Lee. It's an honor to have her in our company. The walls of this firm are built with the chunks of effort she has put in for the past years." The sincerity of his words had your eyes sparkled with delight, accompanying the warmth that was filled in your heart for him. It was always these small gestures that made you feel like home whenever you were with Jay. And the way he was addressing Heeseung so formally almost had you holding back your laughter.

"Thank you Jay, or should I say, Mr.Park?" You spoke with a slight grin as Jay laughed at your words, slightly embarrassed on how casual he was being with you in front of your husband. “Anything for you cousin sister.” He turned to face Heeseung who had a slight smile on his face as he addressed a handshake to him, to which he gladly returned. “It was an honor meeting you Mr.Lee. I’m glad that Y/n is in good hands.” Jay let a small smile linger on his lips as the older returned it with a warm one. Guess the interaction wasn’t that bad afterall. The younger’s phone rang as he fished his phone out of his pocket, excusing himself from the conversation, leaving the two of you facing each other. The loud music that rang in your ears slowly faded upon the sight of your man right in front of you. It was confirmed that you were a swoon for him, but it just wasn’t the time to let it be evident to him.

You heard the latter letting out a soft chuckle as he tugged one of his hands in his pocket whilst the other made way around your waist pulling you closer as his actions left you flustered. You surely didn’t know what got this new side of him out all of a sudden but all your thoughts were shattered as you heard his breath lingering on your ears, with a soft whisper melting through your ears. "That smile was supposed to be exclusively for me Mrs.Lee. I presume you forgot your dear promise." He pulled back slightly as he tucked a loose hair strand behind your ear, taking your breath away just by a single gesture as you held onto your racing heartbeats, facing flushing to a deeper shade of red. “I met him after a long time.” You spoke softly, letting your hand reach his shoulder in a delicate grip as you tugged your lips in a thin line. Surely it was evident how you had kept yourself from practically getting into a playful fight with Jay because you were in a formal gathering, but something about Heeseung’s sudden shift in moods didn’t go unnoticed by you. Just as Heeseung was about to say something, you heard Iseul speak, “Oh get a room you lovebirds. Singles would not like you to experience a whole showcase.” You turned to face her, eyes widened at her words as she shrugged her shoulders. With that Heeseung let loose his embrace as you awkwardly fixed your hair, feeling slightly embarrassed at the attention that Iseul had gathered on the both of you.

“Girl what was that?” Iseul dragged you in a far corner as Heeseung interacted with his ‘elite 01’s’ as they cheered for the newly wedded couple. “What?” You questioned her, seeming confused at how everything was turning a little different than before, but was it worth to be questioned or to be just experienced? “Did you not see how my brother was all riled up when you met Jay?” You pondered over his words, remembering how he was sly enough to pull you close to him as to which you spoke, “Yeah he was actually indifferent as if he didn’t know who Jay was? Like Jay is one of the most important family members to me and I might have spoken about him a dozen of times-""Well, maybe this is why he felt all jealous, girl, don’t you get it?” you got cut off by Iseul as she raised her eyebrows. You were about to speak but paused midway, taking note of what she said. And then it clicked you. “No way, he was jealous? Of Jay?” You kept a hand on your mouth, slightly shocked at the new discovery as you whispered to her, to which she acknowledged. “No way.” You kept your face in your hands, not letting this opportunity slip by. “Now that you scratched it out…” Iseul had a mischievous smile on her face, as to which you nodded sideways. “You’re not doing anything stupid are you?” You said, as to which she disagreed. “No no, absolutely not my dear sister-in-law.” And now that she said that, you knew something was up in her mind.

The ride back home was nothing but silence; Iseul decided to stay a bit longer with her friends as to which neither of you minded, and Jay, well he wasn’t quite seen around after that last encounter before you guys headed. You could see how Heeseung had his gaze traveling to Jay as hugged you by the side, ruffling your hair as to which you were taken by surprise, a soft chuckle leaving your lips. “Let’s meet again soon, both of you.” Jay spoke as he embraced the elder in a warm hug, as to which he reciprocated the energy. “We will surely. It was nice meeting you.” Heeseung spoke, as you nodded, bidding him farewell as you both took the ride back home. Neither of you had an exchange of words as Heeseung drove whilst you stared outside at the starry night. Nothing seemed to have changed; not a single star as it felt like it was exactly the same moment that you were reliving for the moment. You almost felt like dozing off to sleep as the light brushed of the wind was reliving, until you felt a message pop up on your phone, gaining your attention as you went to receive it, only to find Iseul dropping one of the longest texts that you had ever seen, letting you eyes widen as it didn’t fail to catch Heeseung’s attention.

“What was with Jay, or should I say, Mr.Park.” Heeseung spoke, taking off his coat as you had your eyes fixed on the phone. Not hearing a reply from your end he turned to face you, only to find you engrossed into texting as he poked his inner cheek. You were testing his patience for the day and he was at the edge of losing it. He waited for a few more seconds until you responded. “Well, what about him?” You spoke, looking up to him only to be slightly taken aback by the way he had his one hand in his pocket and the other holding his coat. ‘Oh he looks so fine.’ You didn’t want to make it evident that you were drooling over him so you turned your attention back to your phone. “The mere amount of closeness between the two of you was uncomfortable to me.” Well one thing you appreciated about him was that he was outspoken; he would always let the former person know if any of his or her acts was bothering him in any way.

“Well, it has always been this way Hee, don’t make a big deal about it.” Oh now that you said it, you could feel his gaze practically pinning down on you as you continued to use your phone, letting it slip aside that what you just spoke was nowhere close to how you usually speak to him.

‘Gosh Iseul I swear I'm going to kill you with my very own hands.’ You thought to yourself, mentally cursing her for making you do this. “‘Will you keep that phone down for a mere second Y/n?” He spoke, throwing his coat on the couch as he turned to face you, pissed off at how you had your undivided attention on him. “Mhm I am listening to you Hee-” You got cut off by him as he took pacing steps towards you, grasping your attention as he swiftly took your phone away, leaving you startled as you stood up in front of him. “Hee, give it back.” You reached out for the phone as he moved back, sneaking through what you were doing as you noticed a small smirk appearing on his face, as to which you took a step back, heels clicking the floor. He lifted his gaze from the phone as he locked contact with you, turning to face you completely. “So Mrs.lee certainly wanted me to expose a hidden side of mine?” He let out a husky chuckle, not failing to awaken butterflies in your stomach as you spoke, “No, it was just a literary device that Iseul used.” Well that was one pathetic excuse but you prayed it was enough to convince him that this was not what you intended.

“He let out another chuckle at your words as his free hand went to undo his tie, tensing up the atmosphere all of a sudden as a lump formed in your throat. He tossed the phone down on the couch as your gaze went to it, getting distracted as you failed to notice how he was now standing only a few inches close to you as you moved back a bit, causing him to take one step forth; one step backwards, two steps forward. That is how it was following, only the clicking of the heels of yours and his shoes echoing in the cozy lounge as your back eventually hit the wall, letting your eyes slightly widen as you wished to be fast enough to move to the side, failing miserably as he kept his hands on either side of you, trapping you in between as your gaze went up to look through his mischievous one. ‘This was not what I was expecting.’ Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt him leaning towards your ear, slipping another sentence for the day that almost made you weak on your knees.

“I'm giving you 20 seconds to run, Y/n. Only 20. If I catch you, I’ll fuck you.”

__________________________________________________________

“I'm giving you 20 seconds to run, Y/n. Only 20. If I catch you, I’ll fuck you.” A husky chuckle left his lips as his hand slipped back to his pockets as he pulled back, eyeing you from top to bottom as your breath hitched at his words. “W-What?” You managed to gain back your long lost voice as he took a step back, amused at your flustered reaction. “I said what I said. 20 seconds Y/n. I am starting the countdown. 1…2…” “W-Wait wait! Hee! What the heck do I do?” You panicked as he started his manual countdown as he shrugged his shoulders. “5…6…7…” You turned around to take off your heels but it seemed like luck wasn’t helping. “8…9…10…11” ‘Oh fuck.’ You left what you were doing as you made way to your bedroom, sprinting through the stairs as you were risking your life with the 3 inch heel and the narrow staircase. “12…13…Oh, be careful dear wife, I don’t want you to fall.” You turned to look at him as he took slight steps towards the path you followed, causing you to enter your room as you turned the doorknob lock, taking a deep breath. “What did I get myself into?” You took a few steps towards your bed, still hearing him count for god knows how long before he finally stopped. You took off your heels, thankfully they weren’t a problem this time as your attention turned to the silence that engulfed the atmosphere.

“Hee?” You heard no voice from the door as you turned open the doorknob, stepping out to not find him downstairs. “Heeseung, this is nowhere close to being funny.” You spoke in an annoyed tone as you closed the door behind you, making your way towards the staircase. “Hee-” You got cut off as you felt a hand tugging on your wrist as you turned around and slammed back on the door, a gasp leaving your lips as you were met by his siren gaze. “What the heck Heeseung?” A low chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke. “I’m obliged to my words but it seems like you weren’t?” his behavior made it seem like he might have been high on drugs, because this was definitely new coming from his end. “Heeseung what is up with you-” “You wanted me to be like an open book to you right? You wanted to discover all of my personalities.” Your breath hitched at the close proximity while his cinnamon breath fanned on your lips, his orbs capturing yours in a ravishing contact. “H-Hee.” His name left as a whisper as you kept your hands on his chest, causing a short distance to develop between the two of you as you almost held back to your breath. “You invoked the element of jealousy in me, love. And now I won’t be holding it back.”

Before you had a chance to fight back, you felt him pulling you in a messy lip-lock, his hand sliding down to pull you closer by the waist as the other took hold of your jaw, fingers softly rubbing down the back of your neck as he took you by surprise. The heart fluttering radiance made way to spread through your veins like a blazing wildfire as you reciprocated the feeling, throwing your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer. Time and tide waits for none, and that is exactly what Heeseung was holding onto as he took his own time to savour the sweetness plattered on your lips, seeming like he would never get enough of it as he took the opportunity to tuck on your bottom lip, letting a gasp elicit from you end as he slipped his tongue, enjoying every inch of the hot chambers as an excited moan escapes his lips. Whilst you were running breathless, you softly tapped his shoulders, causing him to slow down his movements as he broke apart the lip-lock, a string of saliva keeping both of you connected after the slight intimacy. Panting for air as he opened his eyes, finding your amused ones as he slightly frowned. “What?” He spoke, pushing his hand away from your neck as he took his support by the wall next to the door, feeling his own cheeks heating up at the flashbacks of the past few moments you both shared. “I didn’t know you would act all riled up because of mere jealousy.” You spoke softly, finding it witty how the man who was all jealous was now flushing in embarrassment. He had a slight grin on his face as he spoke, “Well you unravelled it after all, there was no point in hiding it.” He looked away scratching his nape on how he got carried away.

“I’ll be more careful in bringing it out more often.” You spoke, placing your arm on his shoulders as you fondly gazed at him, eyes never leaving his as his hands held your arms in an agile grip. “I’d be more than glad to serve you each time.” A low chuckle leaves his lips as he speaks. “But for now…” with a sparkle in his eyes and a hint of mischievousness ligering in his words, you tilted your head in confusion as he lifted you in his arms, taking you by surprise as a loud chuckle escapes your lips, pushing through the unlocked door as he softly placed you on the the spongy mattress. “Do I have your consent for the night, Lee Y/n?” He spoke, seeking your consent whilst it fluttered your heart, welling up tears in our orbs as you nodded. Hovering over you as he planted a fragile kiss on your forehead, sealing the promise of compassion and devotion under the shimmering moonlight. “You had no option to deny it either way, love.” He whispered whilst sitting up, undoing his tie as he unbuttoned the first button of his shirt, letting it loose as he crawled up to settle between your thighs as he looked at you, smirking at your flustered state. “Oh don’t look at me like that, help me take this off.” He spoke, pulling you up with his grip as you slightly gasped, with his hands guiding you to the buttons of his shirt. “You are so incorrigible.” Taking your own time to tease him as your fingers traced down his chest, his muscles tensing up as you undid the buttons, letting it fall apart as he got rid of it, revealing the chiseled body underneath, the sculpted abs and the muscles that lined his biceps and shoulders, with his pecs were smooth and well-defined, the veins in his arms pulsated as he moved them around.

His dark gaze lingering over yours as he ducked down, pressing his lips against yours as you returned the feverish sensation back with the same will, draping your hands around his neck to pull him closer, leaving no space for air to creep up in between. His hand fumbled through the hem of your dress, sliding through it as the dress crept up, letting the cold air make contact with your bare skin underneath as it sent shivers down your spine. "You're mine, all mine." He whispered against your lips, the words sending another spark through your veins as youI nodded, "I know." He pulled apart, his hands still caressing your waist as he sat up. "Take it off."

His demanding tone might have caught you off guard as he was never this demanding before. Going along with the word play as you retorted back playfully. "What?" It was bold of you to assume that you could do a foreplay, whilst being under him. as a low chuckle escaped his lips whilst he spoke, his hands resting on my thighs. "Take that fancy little dress off you or should I get the job done?" I smirked at his words. "Why don't you do it yourself, Mr.Lee." You spoke, fumbling with his belt as he scoffed, pulling up the dress as he threw it aside, leaving you in your inners. "Oh, you're way too bold." He teased as he ran his hands over your thighs. Whilst his gaze followed the trace of his fingers on your skin, he spoke, “Just remember my love, the night is still young.” He turns his gaze back to you, flashing you that one troublesome gaze which you despised the most. He won’t be letting you go this easily.

His rousing tone rushed like a never-ending stream as you could feel yourself getting drenched just by his mere touches. But you chose not to give in as you gulped, trying to shove off the shakiness in your tone. It was evident how you pulled apart from the intense eye contact, as his gaze softened, coming forth to place a soft kiss on your nose as he tucked a loose hair strand behind your ear. “I promise to be gentle, my love. If you don’t want this we can stop-” “Hey, it’s okay I know you won’t hurt me.” You cut him off in between as you took a deep sigh. He seeked for any traces of lies hiding behind your hazel orbs as he spoke. “Are you sure Y/n? I have never rushed things with you so I don’t want our first to be an uncomfortable experience.” The switch from the heated atmosphere to a more admiring, concerning and light hearted made your heart at a little ease. You thought for a while as you looked up to his bambi orbs. “I…I just don’t want to embarrass myself in front of you.” Just as these words left your mouth you heard slight laughter from his end. “W-whats so funny?” You spoke, a questionable frown appearing on your face as he turned his head sideways, a small grin on his face. “Now where did the ‘all bold Y/n’ go huh? Weren’t you the one determined to encounter these moments more often? To be in this position 24/7” He spoke, rubbing his nose against yours as he looked down at you, eyeing you from top to bottom as the actions made the blood rush up against your cheeks. “HEESEUNG!” You spoke, reaching out for the bed sheet, as he held your hands gently, pinning them sideways as he spoke, “Don’t shy away from me, love.” his hands tracing behind your back as his fingers rested on the strap of your bandeau, seeking your permission with his eyes whilst you nodded, letting him take it off, revealing your chest. “You’re insanely beautiful.” He placed a soft kiss on one of your bosoms, letting your heart flutter at his words as a soft moan escaped your lips as he continued, “The most heavenly sight to my eyes.” placing another kiss on your collarbone. “My glamorous beauty.” trailing kisses up to our jaws as you intertwined your fingers with his. “My woman.” he spoke, placing a tender kiss on your lips, full of love and compassion as he pulled apart, admiring the view underneath him. The past few moments that resided with jealousy and lust were now engulfed with words of appreciation and compassion.

He paused for a moment, letting you take a breather before he left another trail of tender kiss down through your body as his hands rested on your inner thighs, parting them slightly as your heartbeats paced up. Letting his fingers hover around your cervix as he let an airy chuckle escape his lips. “Relax love, close your eyes.” You obliged to his words, gripping onto the bed sheets as you felt his fingers encircling, letting your lips fall apart whilst another moan escaped your lips. “Feels good?” He questions, lifting up to see your parted lips as he chuckles, finding it adorable how they were simply falling apart just by his fingers. You simply nodded, too engrossed in the feeling to form words to express it out to him. Before you had the chance to savour the feeling, you felt his pushing one of his fingers inside you, letting a yelp escape your lips as he pushes it in and out, slowly yet pacing with every passing second as you moan a mess for him “Hee-eseung ahh, i-it f-feels too g-good o-oh fuck” You exclaim, eyes rolling back at the feeling as you feel your orgasm progressing forth. “Yeah? It feels cherishing?” You could pick up the hints of mischievousness in his tone yet again but you were high enough on your organism to let out any words to agree with him. “Let go of it, my love.” Those words were enough for you to untie the knot in your stomach, welcoming your arousal on the tip of his fingers as he pulls out, relishing the taste as he licks his fingers clean, hips lips falling apart as he speaks, “Sweet and devouring, just like you.” Your face flushes at his words, letting your grip loosen on the sheets as you hear the unbuckling of his belt, causing you to lift up your head as your eyes traced down to his fingers fumbling with his lowers, getting rid of each and every one of the clothing.

“Lift your hips up for me, love.” he whispered close to your ears, sending butterflies through your body as you granted him the favor as his hands gripped on your legs, pulling them over his shoulders to get a better access. “Let me know when it hurts okay?” He spoke, his tender gaze meeting yours as you nodded. With a single swift motion, he dunked his shaft deep inside you, causing a moan to escape your lips as you held onto his shoulders, thrusting slowly as he held onto your hips, placing soft kisses near your orbs. “My beautiful woman, taking me in so perfectly.” A low moan escapes his lips as he tugs on his bottom lip, throwing his head back on how graceful you look underneath him; with the moonlights cascading down to on you, reflecting against your brimming hazel orbs as the beads of sweat drip down from your forehead, your messy locks spread wild whilst your milky skin contrasted the monochrome shades of plum bedsheet. With every thrust he gives, he kisses away your tears, his fingers rubbing circles against your hips, whispering nothing but appreciation in your ears as loud moans continue to escape your lips, with him taking in each and every one of them in a gentle kiss. “Hee, I-I’m c-close.” You whimper, with your words almost leaving as a whisper as you hear him speak. “I am too, just let go when you can.” And with those words he continues to let slow thrusts, letting your arousal hit your peak once again as you let go, your expressions relieving as he his muscles contract. “F-Fuck Y/n, I’m coming too.” He throws his head back, pulling out as he lets go of his organism, his body faltering as he lets his head lose, both of you panting after the intercourse.

“You…you did so well my love.” He spoke, taking deep breaths as he looked up to meet your eyes, a smile lingering on your lips as you chuckle. “You were good enough to make me feel like on cloud nine.” You spoke, causing him to chuckle as he drops next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you close, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “No, you were the one to take in so well my angel.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. You both stayed in each other’s embrace for a few good minutes, residing in each other’s comfort as his hands caressed your shoulders. His eyes never left yours as you broke in a laughter. “What are you staring at?” you spoke, captivating each and every one of his features as your fingers traced his jawline. “I’m staring at someone who reflects my whole universe.” He spoke cheekily, causing you to roll your eyes playfully at him. “You’re so cheesy, Hee. You hype me up for no reason.” You spoke, causing him to let out a dramatic gasp as he spoke. “For no reason?” His eyes widened at your words as he spoke. “You complete my life. If I were to pick that one best thing that happened in my life, it would be getting married to you.” He spoke as he peppered kisses on your face, starting with your cheeks as he spoke, “You,” then your forehead, “complete,” followed by your nose, “my,” and then your lips, “whole life.” letting small giggles escape your lips as you hugged his torso. “You’re mine too.” you spoke, letting the silence engulf the two of you again as he once again broke it. “Shower?” You turned to face him as you spoke, “Only if you don’t go for something else.” He laughed at your words. “No no I promise. It’s just the aftercare.” His eyes sparkled under the moonlight as his fingers grazed through your locks.

note#2: T T I tried my best, I never had an experience of writing these type of contents. If there are any grammatical errors, please ignore because English is not my first language. Feel free to leave comments and re-blog <3

#enhypen #enhypenimagines #heeseung #sunghoon #jay #jungwon #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfiction #enha smut #heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard headcanons #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #sunoo #enhypen niki #jake enhypen

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httpsserene · 8 months

Text

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟱: 𝗹𝗲𝘄𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝘅 & 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. vaginal sex. lingerie. marriage. unsafe sex. no pull-out. tender sex. slow and sensual. cockwarming. intimacy. no beta we get disqualified like lewis and charles. not dirty? husband/wife kink (if that’s a thing). more soft. sickeningly sweet (ig). 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lewis hamilton x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: icu • coco jones

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: needed something to soothe the soul after the austin gp disqualifications. this is at the same time the least kinky thing i’ve written so far and the most kinky thing ever. because love feels filthier to write, idk if that makes sense. it’s on the shorter side because i ditched the preamble in order to finish this in time lol, but i dedicate this to my twin @saintwrld :) (it reminds me of her renaissance series :p y'all should check it out @saintslewis) and i hope everyone enjoys it !!!!

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cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

lewis sighs tiredly as he lies down in bed next to you. the mercedes driver turns on his side facing you, and laughs quietly. your bonnet, of course, has grown a pair of legs and climbed its way off your head and is sleeping on the pillow next to you—your braids fanned out on the pillow underneath you unprotected. lewis carefully wrangles the bonnet back on you and smiles adoringly when he notices that you're wearing the matching bonnet he got you almost nine years ago. and to feel how the matching bonnets makes his heart stutter after spending a decade of his life with you, two of those years being married; he knows being married to you is one of the best decisions he’s ever made.

he tugs you, his wife, closer; cooing out loud when he notices that you’re clad in one of his tommy hilfiger hoodies, tucking your head under his chin, arms wrapping around you tightly, and legs intertwining comfortably. you hum against his chest, nuzzling deeper into his bare skin, and a faint smile lingers on your lips, and unconscious reaction to having your husband home again. lewis throws his head back groaning, he can’t wake you up now. you had spammed his phone with texts before his flight, promising that he’d get a “surprise” when he got home, for doing so well this weekend—and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up just so he can fuck you. well, he thinks, he can just get a couple hours of sleep in and then he’ll wake you up and enjoy whatever gift you’ve decided to bless him with and he drifts into sleep.

when lewis wakes up again, the first thing he notices is that he’s slept for way more than a couple hours. the noon sun has brightened the room immensely, and he’s shocked that he managed to stay asleep for so long with how the sun is shining directly on his face. he shifts onto his back, groaning at the soreness left from racing, and glances down at you to see if your still sleeping, and chokes on his breath. his hoodie is rucked up your waist from sleep, exposing your black lace panties, and when he shifts to get a better view of your ass, his body jostles yours and reveals the silver shift of glitter in the fabric.

“fuck,” lewis murmurs, he’s always been weak for you dressing in his team colors. one of his tattooed hands takes a generous squeeze of your ass, and he wonders if you're wearing the matching top. his grip on your ass may have become a smidge too tight at that thought, because you softly gasp awake. lewis watches as you squirm against him softly, face twisted in confusion, before you make eye contact with him, and you relax.

you smile sweetly, your left hand rising to rest on his cheek, “welcome home, champ.” lewis laughs at your half-asleep tone, nuzzling his face into your hand, before turning to press a kiss at the ring he put on your finger. “it was only a second-place finisher, love. no need to call me ‘champ.’”

frowning at him, you scoff, “you are still a seven-time world champion, are you not?” lewis concedes to your point; he’s not interested in being scolded by you today—he’s more concerned with unwrapping the present you got him. he hums and noses at your chin before he captures your lips in a dizzying kiss. your lips are languid against each other, there’s no rush in rediscovering the crevices within your mouths. lewis ignores how your teeth tug at his bottom lip, urging him to speed up—he only deepens the kiss, not quickening his pace, coercing you to melt under his passion.

he pulls away, enjoying how your gaze has transformed from sleep-hazy to lust-hazy. “mmm, is my ‘surprise’ the panties and matching bra you have under my hoodie?” lewis asks you. you nod your head gently, scooting back and pulling the hoodie up to reveal the matching silver-glitter covered black bralette. he moans at the sight of you; perky breasts and nipples hard underneath the lace, your eyes half-lidded in arousal. his hands reach out to grasp at your chest, thumbs dragging over your nipples, causing a shaky moan to fall from your lips at the friction. you reach to pull the hoodie off but lewis grunts in dissent, “nah, keep it on for me. just make sure it stays up, love.”

“ohmygod,” you giggle quietly, “you can just say you’re obsessed with fucking me in your clothes.”

lewis rolls his eyes at you, “okay: i’m obsessed with fucking you in my clothes. i love the way you smell like me after, i love the way your smell lingers when i wear them after you, i love the way you look in my clothes; if i could choose, i wish you’d only ever wear my clothes and have pretty lingerie underneath them all the time.”

you stare at him wide-eyed, not expecting him to flip your teasing words in that manner, maybe that’s why your panties suddenly feel a little wet. you bite your lip, trying to think of a way to regain the upper hand, and lewis clocks your eyes brightening.

“i fingered myself open for you last night. i’m sure you could still slip in, if you’re up for it.”

lewis chuckles, half-crazed, and murmurs, “if i’m up for it? promise me, if i ever say no to having sex with you that you’ll take me to see a doctor?”

you hum, hand shifting to rub at the nape of his neck, “i promise, baby. can you fuck me now—i fell asleep waiting for you last night.”

lewis quickly gets to work positioning your body. he spins you around to your side, your back pressed against his chest, and spreads your thighs open with his knee. you moan at his easy manhandling, and press your ass back to grind against the tent in his boxers. he encourages the movement of your hips, even directing the grind for a few beats before he halts your motions. his hand slips in between the two of you, and tugs his dick out. he pulls your panties to the side and slowly slips into you. your mouth drops open in a silent moan, overwhelmed by the stretch from his dick spreading you open. lewis sighs deeply as he bottoms out within you, and kisses you on the shoulder. he stays still, allowing you the time you need to adjust. you shift your hips gently, testing the feel, and hum in assent.

lewis moves his hand to find yours, and locks them over your navel, using them to pull you as close to his body as he can. he whispers softly, “can we take it nice and slow today? i want to make love to you today.”you hum, and it shifts to a whine as his hips gently rock into yours, and whimper out, “it’s your present—can use it however you want.”

lewis keeps the motion of hips slow and controlled, pulling out halfway before sinking in as deep as he can reach. it’s stunning how you can feel every bit of love lewis puts into his thrusts, seeping into you. he continues to pepper kisses on your neck and shoulder, and slips his other arm underneath you, and moving your body slowly so you twist back further, exposing your chest to him again. the hoodie remains bunched under your armpits, and lewis tugs the bralette down underneath your chest, causing your breasts to spill out lewdly over the top. his hand rests over your chest, not groping in any manner, just holding you close, feeling how your heartbeat speeds up from his movements.

in the decade you’ve been in a relationship with lewis, you’ve had some life-changing sex. but, for some reason, the slow and sensual sex has to be your favorite. it feels restorative, like he’s breathing life back into your body, with every deep thrust he’s showing you how much he loves you. and he’s not afraid to say it either.

“i love you, so much—you’re so good to me—my wonderful wife—all for me—all mine—i’ll make you feel so good, love—forever, yeah—you and me, like this—i win everything for you—“

you rock back against him, always weak when he can help but run his mouth, and start rambling back to him, mouth loose from the pleasure he continues to give to you, “my oh! my husband—only you for me, yeah?” he moans into your neck, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to you calling him your husband.

there’s no telling how long the two of you are wrapped together, neither you are in any rush to reach a climax—you both crave the intimacy sex like this provides, especially after he’s been away. your orgasms crest over your bodies slowly but they’re more satisfying than any other release you could get from rough sex. lewis continues to grind his dick in you as deep as he can, not making any motion to pull out, and ignores the building sensitivity he’s feeling.

lewis smiles at the blissed out look on your face, and watches how you struggle to open your eyes; he’s been fucking you back to sleep this whole time—that would explain why your rambles disappeared as you got closer to your peak. he tugs the hoodie back down over your chest, and one-handedly drags the duvet to cover your bodies, not wanting you to get cold. “hey, love,” he calls softly, “do you want me to pull out and clean you up?” you shake your head, and turn back onto your side fully, pressing you back to his chest again, and you start to doze off. lewis rubs at your waist gently, soothing you further into sleep—he’s never going to say no to having you keep his dick warm.

lewis carefully reaches towards the nightstand and grabs his phone, and quickly sets an hour alarm. he won’t let himself be fooled by the call of sleep and let the whole day fly by, like he did last night—he’d rather not be awoken by his angry wife screaming about uti’s and whatnot. he’ll just bathe in the afterglow while you sleep soundly; he just wants to look after you a little longer.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr@nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez @reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane

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skelliko · 2 months

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๑-context: a summer activitie with them

๑-featuring: kazutora, chifuyu, Baji, Mikey, inui, shinichiro, Kokonoi, Rindou, ran, mitsuya,

°- kazutora hanemiya

• exploring abandoned places and going so far out into the city, climbing over fences just to get into the buildings and running from the police or other pedestrians that had caught you trespassing in someone else's property even though it's not like you both are doing anything harmful there. your just enjoying each others company whilst getting excitement in exploring new places that may be even a little dangerous but what's a little fun if you don't 'ball it'

°- chifuyu matsuno

• making hand made jewelry is a cute activity, you had to teach chifuyu how to tie the string right otherwise it'd come loose but after he got the jist of it y'all were making many sets of matching bracelets that you wear all the time in different colours and patterns. though sometimes it gets frustrating when it comes to tying the string and you can't seem to get the loop right or when your fingers accidentally let go of one side of the string and then all the beads fall downwards and both of you end up crawling on the floor trying to recollect every lose bead, but that doesn't happen often.

°- Baji Keisuke

• forest walks, not all the time but sometimes he'd suggest wandering around a forest, picking up weird shaped branches to show you, finding a bug on a leaf and if you don't like bugs then he'd be a nuisance about it and chase you around with the it. but if you have a heart with bugs then hed look around trying to find the coolest looking one specifically to show/give you and he'd dedicate to it even if he does occasionally get a little grossed out by them.

°- manjiro sano/ mikey

• constant motorbike rides! if you have your own motorbike then the both of you will be riding till you reach the end of earth and seeing which one can out do the other. but if you don't then you'd be latched on at the back of his bike and going with the flow of the wind to cool off from the heat. mikey would also try teaching you how to ride a motorbike, he's more patient with you than anyone else so you can take your time with taking in the information so that you know how to switch gears and dont attempt in going through a wall.

°- Inui seishu / shinichiro sano (I couldn't decide)

• due to him being in the bike shop and working on fixing some motorbikes here and there, there'd be trips to visit him holding a sweet, cold treat to give him on his lunch breaks. though when you're teasing him a little too much he'd purposely smear his oil grease stained fingers across your skin to leave a large, black mark and it'd cause a small fit of smiles and laughter but also some small annoyance on your side as you have to scrub the mark off from you by the sink.

°- Kokonoi hajime

• perfect time and weather to go visit new towns and enjoy the beautiful scenery that neither of you thought you could see until now. browsing into small business shops that you haven't seen/been into before and if something catches your eyes that you'd die for to have then Koko would buy it for you in a heartbeat because seeing you smile with light in your eyes at an item makes him want to keep you in that gleaming mood.

°- rindou haitani

• spontaneous night outs where you start the night to be all cozy watching a series with a tub of ice cream to then be all dressed up and sparkly after one text or phone call from rindou mentioning a club is doing a certain theme. the both of you may seem to be there for the party but actually it's the attention you both bring, getting all dressed up is the fun part and most of the time you do it together and have matching outfits or accessories, give everyone around a sight to see and only then do you give your all with the drinks and dancing.

°- ran haitani

• constant need to be in the pool or anywhere that has water, especially on hot boiling days when a 5 minute walk would feel like 5 hours. in the day you'd usually go to an outside pool and enjoy yourselves and then at night you'd have to pamper him since he's still affected from the heat, he has no tolerance. you tend to go to public ones but only those that you know are clean and have decency of others, essentially public pools that kids don't go to.

°- mitsuya takashi

• summer is the perfect time for him to work on summer clothes and you always happen to be his muse meaning you're the one who he always dots down your measurements and your always the one that tries the clothes on and half the time you tend to keep the clothing. if you wear dresses then sun dresses are always something that he enjoys sowing for you, you spinning around as the dress flows and spins with you, he doesn't make those basic ones but rather he puts in a lot of detail just for you, making it adorable and flattering. but if you don't wear dresses or such clothing then he always considers what kind of material he uses, that way for the hot days your not melting and instead you feel more free and feel a breeze.

♡----

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ellecdc · 2 months

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ELLE !! OMGGGG i read a fanfic based on the movie flipped and i immediately thought of you and how you would eat this trope up or more specifically a childhood best friends to lovers !!

like one day either one or all of the marauders are spending the day with reader then all of a sudden the boys’ hearts start beating a little faster at reader’s laughter or they’re mesmerized by their little subtle quirks and now they’re like “oh fuck… i think i LOVE them love them”

this is not necessarily a request but if you decide to write something like this then YIPPIEEE FLUFF but if not then its just a cute little scenario to think about !!

this was such a sweet idea 🥹 thank you so much for your request 🫶

Sirius Black x gn!reader who he's - oh shit - in love with

Life hadn’t been particularly easy for Sirius.

He was born into a family not out of love but out of obligation.

In fact, he hadn’t ever really known love outside of whatever affection he held for his baby brother until he met his friends.

He’d been beaten, starved, ignored, and tortured into compliance all before the age of 11; and it only continued tenfold upon his return from school after having been sorted into the wrong house.

In fact, a lot about Sirius was wrong.

He had the wrong opinions, the wrong hair, the wrong style, the wrong language, the wrong grades, the wrong loyalty.

Sirius was wrong.

At least that’s what his family would have said.

However, Sirius eventually learned that it wasn’t him who had been wrong all this time; it was them.

And whilst removing them from him was very difficult - seeing as they were the ones who bred and raised him - he felt he was doing a pretty decent job of it.

Unfortunately, that meant leaving his baby brother Regulus, and you, behind.

From as far back as Sirius could remember, everything was always chosen for him; his friends, his interests, his hobbies, the volume of his voice, the clothes he wore, the way he presented himself etcetera, etcetera.

And though that was technically still true of his dedication to his brother and his companionship with you; the two of you were the only good things to have ever come from his life as a Black.

His friendship with you was a cherished one.

Perhaps one of the only people who truly got it; who knew what Sirius went through.

You were the silver lining at every grey and dreary Pureblood Gala and Sacred 28 dinner party.

You were his biggest advocate and protector when it came to his older cousins and the other older Purebloods.

And you were the only reason Sirius could bring himself to flee that horrid night in the summer before sixth year; he could only leave knowing that Regulus would at least still have you.

But it hurt.

It hurt knowing he had left you and Regulus to fend for yourselves.

He felt like a coward; like he betrayed the two people who he cared for most.

And he was still so scared; even now, albeit for different reasons.

He was scared because he was certain that when he returned to Hogwarts that September, you and Regulus would hate him.

But apparently, his fears were wrong too.

Because two weeks before the end of summer; two weeks before you would all be piling onto the Hogwarts Express to return to Scotland, you and Regulus showed up to Potter Manor wearing matching timid grins, yet seemingly no worse for wear.

Somehow, you had gotten yourself and Reggie out of the terror that was your familial homes, and were staying with friends up in Ottery St.Catchpole.

Sirius never really imagined getting to have his cake at all, let alone getting to have his cake and eating it too.

Yet, here he sat on a warm summer evening at Potter Manor with James, Remus, Peter, Reggie, and you around a crackling bonfire among the sounds of peeping frogs and chirping crickets as you told some grandiose story about you and Regulus trekking through a vast field where Regulus stumbled in a hidden hole in the ground and cursed for five minutes straight in both English and French before the two of you laughed so hard that you cried.

Your face was flushed and you were slightly breathless as you narrated your tale; arms flying wildly as you drew a rather descriptive picture of both your surroundings and your actions. Every so often you would reach over to shake Regulus’ shoulder as he hid his face behind his hands, laughing along with you and daring to interrupt if he felt you were overexaggerating some details or not painting him in a flattering enough light.

What was likely a rather stressful and arduous journey across the Southern half of the country seemed to be nothing but a grand adventure as you retold your experience.

Sirius liked that about you; everything was an adventure with you. You never let Regulus or Sirius feel too poorly for themselves for too long, telling them it was going to be great for their character development.

“I think I’m rather well developed already, sweetheart.” He’d grumbled at you once. You laughed like he had something truly funny.

And this was no different. From looking at Regulus, Sirius would never guess he’d just absconded from his volatile, abusive, and downright scary family; Regulus rather looked like he was retelling the happenings of a juvenile prank-filled slumber party (which Sirius would know a thing or two about).

And he looked good. Not like Sirius looked when he first arrived at the Manor; bloodied, bruised, starved, and soaked to the bone. Regulus was healthy, vibrant, and bright. Hopeful.

That’s the effect you had on people; you filled them with hope. Hope that it would be okay, hope that it would be better, hope that one day you might actually deserve the things you so desperately craved.

You had certainly done that for Sirius.

And looking at how good Regulus appeared, he couldn’t deny the same of you.

You were bright, animated, overflowing with a crackling energy and excitement that might even rival James’.

Sirius realised then that you were everything Sirius ever hoped to be.

Bold, assured, daring, caring, vivacious, kind, and so full of love.

And it seemed to him that the way the firelight was currently reflecting off of your face, as if the fire was somehow brighter from just simply being within your proximity, that you were far more beautiful than Sirius remembered you.

He hadn’t realised he’d been remembering you.

He had missed you; quite terribly, at that.

He missed your reassuring words, he missed your soft gazes, he missed your gentle hugs, and he missed the way that just knowing you were within his vicinity eased a ball of tension he hadn’t even realised resided deep within him.

And he missed getting to see you; like this most of all.

Lovely, happy, carefree, and beautiful.

He wondered how he’d gone so long without it.

Was a little over a month considered long? He supposed it didn’t much matter, seeing as it certainly felt that way.

Too long.

Sirius never wanted to go that long without you again. You were too important to him, too precious, too sacred, too-

Oh.

Sirius Black was bloody in love. With you.

Sirius Black was in love with you.

What likely should have sent Sirius spiralling (and certainly would have a little over a month ago) did nothing but cause him to smile softly as you let out a rather boisterous laugh that sounded like a symphony to Sirius’ ears.

And so, it should be commemorated for future generations to come:

Here sat Sirius Black… having his cake and eating it too.

315 notes · View notes

tenelkadjowrites · 1 year

Text

Wallflower - Part One - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

PART TWO HERE.

🌻 Summary: Having not given much thought about your nerdy coworker, Seonghwa, all of that changes when you hear a rumor about his sexual prowess in bed.

🌻 Word count: 13k

🌻 Genre & warnings: nerdy seonghwa with coworker reader. fem pronouns for reader. reader is drunk at one point. smut. some dirty talk. fingering, oral sex (reader receiving)

🌻 Tags are now moved to the bottom of the fic.

this fic is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

“Sorry, I know I’m late,” You say with a huff, plopping down in the chair, clutching your coffee in one hand.

“What kept you?” Your coworker and friend asks, glancing at the time on her phone, “We got here ten minutes ago.”

“Sir Dipshit was busy boring me to tears about the sales numbers for this week,” You reply with an eyeroll, “What did I miss?”

It’s Thursday afternoon as well as your lunch break. As usual, your group of work friends met at the coffee shop across the street from the office. Sitting outside on the patio, the sun high in the sky with a light breeze, it would be a perfect day if you didn’t have to return to work soon. Sometimes, being inside all day at that desk is a bummer…more often than not recently, it’s been an incredible bummer.

“Nothing much, we were just complaining about the usual,” Your other coworker says before taking a sip of her green tea.

It is a daily event to go to the coffee shop at lunch and complain about everything – your coworkers, the corporation you all work for, the daily tasks. It is a ritual, something that gets everyone through the day, including yourself although lately it hasn’t been helping as much as it used to.

“We have that office ‘party’ this weekend,” You remind them which elicits a series of groans among the small group, “And Sir Dipshit made it pretty clear it’s mandatory to attend.”

Your boss, otherwise known as Sir Dipshit, lived to work and worked to live. The man had no existence outside of dedicating his entire life to a corporation that wouldn’t care if he dropped dead tomorrow. The last thing you felt like listening to was a lecture for the next twenty years about missing the event. It ended up being less pain just to suffer through it.

“At least the booze is free,” One of your coworkers points out.

“Remember last year when that guy in senior management drank way too much and threw up on the bar counter? I live for the moments like that at these events,” Another coworker sighs wistfully, “It’s so funny plus gives everyone something to talk about Monday morning.”

At that moment, someone cuts across the street, heading towards the coffee shop. You recognize the person as Seonghwa, who is technically on the same team as you although he works on the tech side. You say ‘technically’ because you can count the number of times you’ve spoken to him on one hand.

One of your coworkers leans forward and whispers conspiratorially, “Speaking of things to talk about on Monday morning, guess what I heard about the resident nerd?”

Confused, you glance over at Seonghwa who is almost at the door to the shop. Today, he wears a white button up shirt with black suspenders, matching slacks and shoes. His glasses are almost comically oversized, black frames that rest on the bridge of his nose that seem too large for his face. The wind is messing up his sandy blonde hair which he keeps trying in vain to smooth down as he walks over.

“Someone is talking about Seonghwa?” You say doubtfully, “What is there to talk about?”

Seonghwa is the biggest nerd you’ve ever met and it isn’t just the suspenders and the large glasses that give you that belief. His desk is littered with the sort of items you’ve always associated as nerdy and he’s always reading some gigantic book based off some sci-fi or fantasy thing. He also works in software and coding or something which means you never understand what the hell he is talking about most of the time during work meetings and tune him out.

“Oh, this is a good one, trust me.”

Seonghwa notices the group then and gives a small wave. Everyone halfheartedly waves back as he goes inside. You really doubt the rumor is going to be anything interesting. Seonghwa seems relatively harmless and you’ve given him such little thought over the past two years working near him that you doubt anything could suddenly make him interesting.

But your gossipy coworker looks positively gleeful as she goes, “You remember how there was that big conference everyone in tech had to attend two weeks ago? They all flew out for it?” When you and the others nod, she continues, “Well, apparently Seonghwa hooked up with one of the regional IT managers.”

You raise one eyebrow. “Okay, and? The most surprising thing about this is that Seonghwa is getting laid.”

At this, one of the other coworkers speaks up, “Seonghwa is a nerd but he’s good looking. That’s not really surprising.”

“I can’t tell if he’s good looking cuz his glasses are gigantic,” You fire back, “I didn’t realize there were people sitting here who wanted to fuck Park Seonghwa.”

Everyone breaks into bickering at this remark until your coworker with the gossip speaks up loudly to silence everyone. “Okay, shut up please. I am not finished!” Once all attention is back on her, which she is clearly enjoying, she drops her voice to a whisper. “Anyway, Seonghwa hooked up with one of the regional managers after that big party they have on the last night of the conference. She said she figured why not because she’s a regional manager on the other side of the country so she didn’t have to worry about awkwardness in the work place –”

“Can you please get to the point sometime this century?” You interrupt.

She shoots you a scowl before saying, “She said not only was Seonghwa the best fuck she ever had but apparently he has a gigantic dick.”

“Bullshit,” You counter immediately, “No way.”

This creates another round of bickering about if Seonghwa could really be the best sexual encounter of someone’s life. You are steadfastly against the idea.

“What about the trope about nerdy guys with big dicks?” Your gossipy coworker argues.

“That’s fanfic shit,” You fire back, “Maybe this manager has just one or two other people she’s slept with so Seonghwa is the best out of a small sample size.”

“Well, she said he ate pussy like a champ and dicked her down so well she could barely walk right the next day.”

“Yeah, sure,” You scoff, “I’m not saying she didn’t sleep with him but maybe she’s…jazzing the encounter up to make a good story.”

It is then that the subject of the gossip exits the coffee shop. Seonghwa gives the group another small wave and this time looks perplexed when everyone bursts into giggles as they return the motion. But he continues back to the office, holding a coffee in one hand. You watch him go, shaking your head.

“Sorry, I just don’t believe it. A wallflower like that being some dynamo in bed? No fucking way.”

Back at the office, you glance at the clock. An hour until I can get out of here, you think. It wasn’t that you hated your job, it was just that it was super fucking boring most of the time. But the money made it worth it – at least that’s what you told yourself when the alarm went off in the morning and you wanted to hide under the blankets.

Idly, your eyes scan the room, landing on Seonghwa’s cubicle. Well, she said he ate pussy like a champ and dicked her down so well she could barely walk right the next day. You scoff quietly before pushing away from your desk, wandering over to Seonghwa’s cubicle.

He is studying something on the computer screen, slightly leaned forward with his back towards you. Your eyes look over the small space. There are some things you recognize – little decorations like small lightsabers – but a lot of things that you have no idea what they are from or what they represent. His cubicle is incredibly tidy, organized with each personal item displayed at such a way that makes it clear he has decorated the space for himself and not to send out a certain image to his coworkers. Cubicles, the original method of creating a carefully curated image to put out into the world before Instagram, you think dryly.

You hover there, wondering why the hell you came over here in the first place. But before you can leave, Seonghwa must sense someone standing there because he looks over his shoulder. At the sight of you, his eyes widen slightly and he swivels in his chair.

“Ah, sorry! Were you waiting there long? I didn’t hear you say my name.” He ducks his head apologetically.

“It’s fine,” You reply curtly, “I was just wondering if you were attending that work party this weekend. I’m trying to get a head count,” The lie comes swiftly and easily without much thought.

Seonghwa pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. You study him for the first time, trying to see past the glasses, his messy hair and the dorky clothing. Seonghwa has always been slender, and tall, with almost a fragile delicateness to him. You’ve never given him much thought until now.

“I plan to be there, yeah,” He says and then smiles brightly, “Are you going too?”

“I am, yeah,” You grumble, “Anyway, thanks.”

“You’re welcome!”

You turn around, walking away from his cubicle. No, that didn’t clear up anything at all.

As soon as it hits five, you shut the computer off and grab your bag, anxious to get the hell out of there. Sometimes, the office just felt so…small and suffocating. You wanted to get out immediately. Swinging your bag over your shoulder, you hastily walk towards the elevator. Half of the floor is doing the same with a few people staying late.

Seonghwa is one of those. As you slow down your walking speed near his cubicle, you look in his direction. Seonghwa is turned to the side, flicking through a folder filled with papers. He looks focused, brow furrowed, as he tries to find something. His work lanyard sways slightly and his tongue is poking out a little from between his lips. He runs his fingers through his hair, paying no mind to how messy it already is.

There is just no fucking way that rumor is true, you think again, frustrated with yourself for spending so much time mulling it over today.

By the time you make it to the elevators, you have resolutely told yourself to put it out of your mind.

“Do you want to go grab coffee?”

“Girl, it’s ten in the morning. Little early for a break, you think?” Your coworker says in mild confusion.

“Yeah, I guess so,” You mumble, “Didn’t realize it was that early.”

“Anyway, I gotta finish up this TPS report this morning or Sir Dipshit is gonna have my head,” She pats you gently on the shoulder, “But we can grab coffee later, alright?”

She walks past you quickly, already lost in thought. You stand there for a few seconds before turning around to head back to your cubicle. Seonghwa is walking across the room, heading towards the giant copier near the window. Today he has a light blue button up on with khaki slacks although the large black glasses still remain. Someone passes by him, saying good morning and Seonghwa looks up, smiling and returning the greeting.

How can he look that happy here? You wonder, And how are his teeth so perfect looking? That’s something new you’ve noticed – his incredibly white teeth whenever he smiles.

Before you can ask yourself what the hell you’re doing, you walk towards him. He doesn’t notice you at first, too busy fumbling with the copier that barely works properly on a good day. But when you get close enough, Seonghwa looks up.

“Oh, good morning,” He says brightly, “How are you?”

Something about his energy, his welcoming posture and his smile makes you feel exposed in some odd way.

“I don’t want to be here,” You say automatically without thinking and then grow deeply embarrassed at your confession, “Sorry, I – hm. I shouldn’t have said that. That’s weird, right? I don’t know – I don’t know why I said that.”

Seonghwa studies your face for moment and then replies, “No, it’s okay. Would you like to go to the break room with me and get a coffee? I forgot to have a cup before I came in.”

Leaping at the excuse to not sit at your desk, you nod. Seonghwa glances at the copier and shrugs, giving up on making it work. You trail after him, wondering why in the world this rumor has made you seek him out yet again and why you just openly admitted to a relative stranger that you don’t want to be at work right now. I must be so fucking bored, you think.

Walking a little bit behind Seonghwa, your eyes study the way the fabric of his shirt rests against his skin before looking at how his belt lays against his small waist. You try to imagine him fucking someone into the mattress but your mind comes up blank. The rumor being about this man in particular just doesn’t make sense.

In the small break room, which is empty due to the time, Seonghwa begins to brew a pot of coffee, chattering the entire time. “I stayed here too late last night and I’m having a hard time getting going this morning. But I am hoping to finish this project before the weekend so I can move on from it. I feel like I’ve already spent too much time on it and I’m going to fall behind.”

You sit down at the tiny break room table, making a small noise to indicate you’re listening.

“I won’t have time to work on it this weekend because I had to move my plans around for that work party. Originally, I was gonna have my DnD session –”

Confused, you speak up, “Your what session? What’s a….Do Not Disturb session?”

This brings Seonghwa up short and he turns around, peering at you through his glasses. “No, my…Dungeons and Dragons session. You know?”

You don’t know. You think you may have vaguely heard the name in the past because you have a mental image of people hunched over a table looking at a board game. It must show on your face because Seonghwa quickly keeps going.

“But now it got moved to Saturday afternoon so I can make it on time which meant everyone else had to rearrange their schedules. Boy, I still haven’t heard the end of it.” He pours two cups of coffee, glancing over his shoulder, “Do you want cream and sugar?”

You tell him your preference and he continues, “But the boss made it clear he’s gonna be pissed if we don’t go so I kinda feel like my hands are tied.” Seonghwa stirs your coffee and brings it over, resting it gently on the table before turning back around to make his. “I don’t really like work parties. I am not really a party person.”

“You don’t say,” You retort dryly, unable to imagine Seonghwa at a club at all.

He finishes with his coffee, sitting down across from you. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him. He smells like clean laundry. There isn’t a single wrinkle in his shirt. Everything about Seonghwa is a mixture of nerdy and professional.

“Sorry, am I talking too much? I get told I’m a chatterbox.”

“You’re fine. I don’t have anything interesting to say anyway, honestly. I just…didn’t feel like working this morning, I guess.” You look down at the cup of coffee, wondering why you feel increasingly uneasy at your job as of late.

Seonghwa falls silent for a moment and when you look back up at him, he averts his gaze quickly, clearing his throat. “It’s the routine. Gets to all of us. That’s why our free time is so valuable. You have to make it worth something to remember life is more than just…this.” He gestures to the surroundings. “You know, this is the most I’ve talked to you, I think. I know our jobs are pretty different so we don’t overlap a lot though.”

You hunch your shoulders forward, blowing on the coffee. Some part of you just wants to ask him – hey, I heard a rumor you’re a great fuck and I don’t understand how a thing could be possible. But that would be out of line so you keep it to yourself. You doubt Seonghwa is even aware such a rumor is going around about him.

Seonghwa’s smart watch beeps then and he looks at it before mumbling a curse under his breath. “Sorry, I forgot I have a call I need to be on in five minutes,” He stands, “But I’ll see you around?”

You are staring at the way that his long, slender fingers are curled around the disposable coffee cup. Were his fingers always that…dainty?

Seonghwa says your name and it snaps you out of your staring, looking up at him. “Right, yes. I’ll see you around. Thank you for the coffee.”

“It’s no problem,” He gives you a small wave, leaving you alone in the room with your thoughts.

If there is one thing you’ve been increasingly disliking lately, it’s your job. The second thing? Staying late for the job. It is ten minutes past five and the anger you feel sitting at your desk while listening to Sir Dipshit is enough to make you shriek.

You aren’t even sure what he is talking about. It began as a lecture about some e-mail you missed this morning and has now turned into a diatribe about his own day and how busy he is.

You are trying to pinpoint when your job started feeling like a weight around your neck. You make good money. You work for a major corporation that offers job security. You have your own place. Everything is neatly lined up. But blurting out to Seonghwa, of all people, that you didn’t want to be here this morning has made you start to really think. And you aren’t sure that you are going to like the answer.

As if conjured up by thinking about Seonghwa, he pops out of his cubicle with his bag, getting ready to leave for the day. As he brings his bag strap up around his shoulder, his shirt tightens for a split second against his chest. You blink, wonder if you just hallucinated how the fabric pulled against hard muscles. Seonghwa looked like he could be shoved in a body of water and his wet clothes could take him down. Thinking there was some hot body underneath all those clothes is just you creating things out of boredom.

His eyes land on you and he gives you a small smile. Sir Dipshit is oblivious, still going on. You’ve made making sounds of interest while not hearing a single word an art form at this point. To your surprise, Seonghwa walks over to you, nodding his head over to Sir Dipshit.

“Hey, I’m really sorry to interrupt but its ten minutes past five and I need to discuss something with her on the way out today,” He makes an apologetic face, “Sorry boss, I hope that’s alright.”

Sir Dipshit looks mildly startled as if being woken up out of a deep sleep. For fucks sake, even his brain goes on auto pilot with boring everyone to death. You aren’t about to turn away a rescue and quickly get out of your chair, grabbing your bag swiftly.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. That thing –”

“Right, that thing,” Seonghwa says, nodding vigorously.

“The thing with that call tomorrow! Yeah, let’s talk about that on the way out. Have a good night, sir,” You shoot this at your boss before turning around to walk out as quickly as possible to Seonghwa.

“Alright, uh, good talk!” Sir Dipshit calls out after you, “See you tomorrow at the party!”

Your back is to your boss as you rapidly press the elevator button. The doors glide open and you hurry inside as Seonghwa follows who immediately presses the button to shut the doors on the slim chance the boss wants to follow. He waves jovially until the doors shut.

“Thanks,” You say, “Was it that obvious I was trapped?”

“I just know how long he can talk for.”

“Nice touch there with the ‘ten mins after five’ thing.”

“Yeah, figured I would slide that in there and remind him the work day was technically over although honestly, I don’t think it stuck.”

“Probably not but I still appreciate it. Can’t stand how much Sir Dipshit talks.”

Seonghwa laughs at this, “‘Sir Dipshit’?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard that one? Yeah, it’s just what we call him.”

“I’ll have to keep it in mind.”

Seonghwa smiles at you, the sort of smile that feels as though you are standing directly underneath the summer sun as it warms your skin. The elevator doors open and the two of you walk across the main entrance hall of the building which still has a few people buzzing around.

“You park in employee parking?” You ask him, “What spot are you?”

“Oh, my place is close enough that I bike to work,” Seonghwa replies as he slides his bag straps onto his shoulder so it is now a backpack, his thumbs slipping underneath the straps as he holds onto them.

The sight of him in such a pose makes you think of those movies in which the nerds always walk like that. The only thing he’s missing is some tape around the middle part of his glasses. It strikes you once more how Seonghwa is just so not your type. Maybe the regional manager in Wherever the Hell city went for nerds like him but not you. No wonder she thought fucking him was the best sex of her life – Seonghwa is a walking nerd stereotype.

“Oh,” You say, mostly because the idea of biking to work seems so foreign of a concept, “I have to drive like twenty minutes or so to my place. You don’t have a car?”

“I do! It’s just…a gigantic piece of shit so I try not to drive it too much. Trust me, my bike is safer most times,” He replies, holding the door open for you.

“Thanks,” You say, stepping out into the evening air.

The sun is dipping behind the city skyline which makes you feel wistful. It seems like such a shame to spend all day inside.

“Well, I should head out now. I wanna pick up this new Lego kit that got released today. It’s of an Imperial Star Destroyer and I placed a preorder on it months ago.”

“Legos? Like those…building kits? With the blocks?”

“Yup,” He says cheerfully, “I love building Lego kits. It’s relaxing and keeps my hands busy.”

Reflexively, you glance at his hands wrapped around the straps of his bag. You swallow hard, feeling weird for some reason.

“You uh…like keeping your hands busy?” You say and immediately regret saying something that could be perceived as flirting.

But Seonghwa seems clueless to any potential interpretation and just nods. “Yeah, I also like painting those miniatures for DnD, you know?”

You absolutely don’t so you just give a non-committal nod. You picture him painting a tiny teapot or something, a look of avid concentration on his face as he worked, the tip of his tongue poking out as his long fingers hold onto a small brush.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow night,” He says, nodding his head at you, “Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Seonghwa turns around, walking confidently down the sidewalk to the other side of the building where his bike must be waiting. You watch him as he goes, taking note of how his legs take long strides and people subtly move out of his way. Once he is gone out of view, you slowly make your way to your car, unlocking it and sliding into the driver seat. You stare at nothing in particular, wondering why you feel the way you do. It’s a mixture of dread at the work event tomorrow, anger that your little time away from the office is spent with people from the office, and something else that you cannot pinpoint.

It’s relaxing and keeps my hands busy.

“You’re really losing it,” You say aloud to yourself and start the car.

The rain smears the lights of the bar, distorting the building into a dark, grey smudge. You have delayed going inside for ten minutes now, struggling to motivate yourself into yet another ‘team event’. A few years ago, you didn’t mind these things. They were a bit dull but still manageable. But now, you can’t ignore the pit of dread in your stomach at spending more time around people you already spend too much time around.

With a small intake of breath, you get out of the car, scurrying quickly to the overhang before you can get too wet. Then, as if preparing yourself for battle, you exhale slowly and open the door.

You’ve arrived an hour late, something that you know Sir Dipshit will take note of, but it proved an impossible feat to get there on time given your mood. Your band of coworkers notice you immediately, waving you over.

Your eyes scan the crowd as you walk over, greeting them. It is too early in the night for anyone to be drunk yet and so the air is stiff, slightly formal, with top 40 pop radio playing a little too loudly.

“Fuck, you’re so late,” One of your coworkers says, “We were just wondering if you were gonna blow it off.”

“And I said you wouldn’t because Sir Dipshit would never let you live it down. And also that if you didn’t at least tell us you weren’t coming, we would be pissed.”

“Right,” You reply, not listening very much at all.

“Hello?” Your gossipy coworker waves her hand in front of your face, “Who are you looking for?”

“What?” Startled, you look around at the table, “I wasn’t looking for anyone. Just was seeing who was here.”

“No one interesting, if that is what you’re hoping,” chimes in one of your coworkers.

“Although,” Your gossipy coworker leans forward, lowering her voice, “Seonghwa is here tonight and I’m bored enough to want to see if the rumors about him are true.”

“He’s here?”

Your coworker motions in his direction with her drink. You follow to see Seonghwa at the bar alone, nursing a water. No one is talking to him but he doesn’t seem to mind much. He’s idly bobbing his head to the music while checking something on his phone.

Tonight, he’s wearing…are those yellow suspenders? You groan inwardly. His shirt is also a very pale yellow with small blue buttons. His pants are a soft grey, a belt looping around his waist with his shirt tucked in. As usual, his hair is a bit of a mess. He looks like a total dork, you think dismally.

“Looking tragic as usual,” One of your coworkers remarks with a giggle, “Please tell me you’re not actually going to try to have sex with him.”

Your gossipy coworker shrugs. “I mean, that rumor is pretty alluring. Maybe his nerd act is just a front and there’s something nasty lurking underneath.”

Your brain flashes back to him making you coffee in the break room, not minding it was ten in the morning or the fact you had blurted out that you didn’t want to be there. You suddenly are bored of the conversation and bored of talking about Seonghwa as if he is unauthentic.

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” You murmur, leaving the table and all their discussions of Seonghwa and what he is like in bed behind.

To your chagrin, Sir Dipshit sees you and waves you over. In no mood to talk to him, you wave back, pretending that you don’t understand he is trying to beckon you. At the bar counter, you order something, mentally calculating how much time you can spend here before leaving and not hearing any complaints from either your coworkers or boss.

As you wait for the drink, you idly glance down the bar. Seonghwa is all the way at the other side. Someone is talking to him although you don’t recognize who. He seems engaged in an easy conversation, his shoulders relaxed. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and leans back against the bar counter. The shirt tightens against his chest and upper arms –

Okay, you’re not hallucinating. Seonghwa definitely is in shape judging by the muscles pressing against the fabric. You swallow hard, your eyes trailing down his stomach to his waist.

She said not only was Seonghwa the best fuck she ever had but apparently he has a gigantic dick.

“Ma’am?”

Snapped out of your thoughts, you turn your attention to the bartender who has clearly tried to get your attention multiple times. Mumbling an apology, you take the drink. Your cheeks feel a little warm so you take a swig, liking the way it burns on the way down.

You are looking for your gossipy coworker, wondering if she was really going to try to sleep with Seonghwa. For some reason, the idea of having to listen to her talk about it makes you wanna scream and you aren’t even sure why. But the growing crowd has swallowed her up. Why do I give a shit if she has sex with Seonghwa? I barely thought about the guy until that rumor anyway.

“Hey.”

The voice startles you, lowering your gaze directly in front of you. Seonghwa stands there. Up this close, the lights of the bar lay across his skin as if cozying up to him. He still is holding onto his water, his long fingers circled around the cup casually. You swallow, looking away from his hands.

“Oh, hey, Seonghwa,” You try to think of something to ask that isn’t tied to the rumor about him and his big dick, “How was your…uh what was it again?”

“DnD?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Well, the group was still upset we had to shift the time back and the session was cut to six hours.”

“Six…hours?”

“Yeah, we usually aim for…maybe eight or more, depending. Enough to make good progress in the campaign.”

You have absolutely no idea what the hell he is talking about so you just nod.

“Hongjoong, oh sorry, that’s my best friend, well, we were supposed to do a dungeon today and he was upset cuz we didn’t finish it like we hoped cuz San’s bard got cursed so that sorta derailed everything.”

“The bard got cursed,” You deadpan.

“Yeah, Yeosang didn’t roll high enough so we got sidelined by dealing with that. But I mean, that is just part of the campaign right? It’s Jongho’s first time being dungeon master and he’s spent weeks putting this whole thing together. We weren’t sure how it was going to go because typically Hongjoong is the dungeon master but Jongho really wanted to try it.”

You have understood exactly two or three words the entire time Seonghwa is speaking but you are actually kinda relieved to be talking about something that has nothing to do with work. Taking another swig of your drink, you think of a question so Seonghwa will keep going.

“Do you do this every week?”

“Oh no, it would be too hard to try to have everyone’s schedule sync up weekly. There’s eight of us, after all. So sometimes a couple times a month – that’s what we shoot for.”

“Oh there you are,” Your coworker interrupts, slinking up with their empty glass, casting a glance over at Seonghwa before looking at you knowingly.

Their expression makes you feel defensive although you can’t pinpoint why. Flustered, you say, “Was just getting a drink.”

“Hi Seonghwa,” Their smile is slow and lazy across their face, “How are you?”

If Seonghwa has any idea as to why they are acting odd, he doesn’t show it. He just smiles in that bright way of his, greeting them by name. Your nerves are buzzing underneath your skin and you gulp down the rest of your drink before turning to the bartender, motioning for another one.

“Wow, making sure to take advantage of the free bar,” Your coworker quips in a tone that you mislike – in fact, you are starting to question your friendship with everyone in this entire building.

“You know it,” You mumble although your coworker doesn’t hear.

Seonghwa, however, does, and the look he shoots in your direction makes you feel as if he is rooting around in your brain and seeing every dreadful thought you’ve ever had.

Two hours later, you are drunk.

It is a mistake and you know it. You’ve never gotten drunk at a work function before. It’s unprofessional, for one, and secondly, drunk people at work parties tend to always make asses out of themselves.

But wow! It made talking to everyone so much easier. The mundane conversations about work slide through your brain like a lazy river in which you mentally bob in. Your coworkers, who are rehashing the same gossip they have all week – which unfortunately means more discussions about Seonghwa’s sexual prowess in bed – are pleasant hummings in your ear that you steadfastly ignore.

At some point, you have found a quiet corner that is near the bathrooms and the back exit. Slumped against the wall, you close your eyes as the floor wobbles unsteadily underneath your feet. You’re going to have to either Uber or ask for a ride home from a coworker. Neither sounds enticing but since you can’t drive, it’s your own fault. Surely, two hours is enough time here. Sir Dipshit will be too swept up in the drunken dancing that has started on the dance floor since everyone is now feeling intoxicated enough to embarrassingly do that in front of one another.

“Fuck, there you are. I’ve spent ten minutes looking for you,” Your gossipy coworker has suddenly appeared, ruining the solace of the spot you’ve found, “I’m bored and heading out. I tried talking to that Seonghwa guy a couple times and it’s like listening to paint dry. No sex is worth that. Are you coming with me? You clearly can’t drive,” You’re staring at your shoes and don’t reply. Your coworker huffs, “It’s really not like you to get plastered at these events. You’ve been acting so weird for months now.”

“Sorry,” You mumble although some part of your brain is annoyed that she is bringing this up now when she is well aware that you’re not sober.

“It’s fine, whatever. Just make sure you get an Uber or something, alright? We can get your car after work Monday.”

You hear the click clack of her heels as she saunters off, leaving you alone again. You’re feeling sleepy. It tugs on your brain like an annoying child. If the world stopped spinning for half a second…well, until then you will stay right here.

You aren’t sure how much time actually passes but someone’s shoes come into view next to yours as you stare at the floor. Surprised, you raise your head and find yourself looking at Seonghwa. A new song kicks up, with a heavy bass that seems to thrum up along your spine and into your brain.

“Seonghwa,” You mumble, blinking a few times to make yourself appear less intoxicated.

It doesn’t seem to work because he goes, “Hey, are you alright?”

For some reason, lying to him doesn’t enter your mind. “No. Also, I’m drunk.”

“I sorta gathered that,” But there is nothing mean in his words, it is just merely noting a factual observation.

Your hazy gaze focuses on Seonghwa. He appears to be perfectly sober. You recall him drinking water earlier. Good idea. You should have done the same. Now, a headache that is thumping in time to the music is beginning to grow louder. Your eyes drop down across the curve of his neck to his shoulders down to his small waist and you swallow, closing your eyes for a moment to banish whatever the hell is going on with you.

“Excuse me,” Someone says, storming past the two of you to head to the bathroom, colliding into Seonghwa as if he isn’t even there and pushing him towards you.

But your reaction speed is terrible, slowed by the alcohol and when your hands go to his abdomen to stop him from colliding, it is like an electric current snapping all the way to your thighs. Seonghwa is extremely close but there is no booze scent clinging to his clothes. And to your utter shock, the skin underneath your hands is firm and toned. Fuck, you think dizzily, see, I wasn’t making it up. But it didn’t matter if Seonghwa was fit or not – he just simply is not your type. You barely understand what he’s talking about most of the time.

He says something then but the music is too loud as is the rushing of blood to your head. His lips move, lips that are way too pretty and plump, by the way, not that you care, and you shrug, unable to hear what he is asking. He looks inquisitive but you’re distracted by how lithe and slender he is. Too pretty! Not your type! You scold yourself.

“Do you wanna dance?” You blurt out, cutting whatever he is saying off.

His eyes widen through his thick frames. Your hands are on his waist now and the two of you are almost pressed against one another. His cheeks are slightly flushed with just a hint of colour and when he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs. He replies but you give a frustrated shake of your head.

“I can’t hear you!” You shout, probably way too loudly.

Seonghwa leans forward, centimeters from your body. He is bringing his face towards your neck and your heart skips a beat so intensely that for one drunken second you worry it’s going to pop out of your chest.

“I don’t really dance,” His voice seems to fill up your entire brain, taking over every sense you have, the cadence of his speech making your head swirl.

You think about the rumor about him and for the first time, maybe because you are drunk, allow yourself to wonder if it is actually true. There are lots of stereotypes about nerds – and not just that they have big dicks like your coworker said. There is the stereotype of them being virgins, fumbling around with no knowledge as to what to do. You just assumed Seonghwa belonged in that group from the little interactions you’ve had with him.

But if you were wrong…

When he pulls away, his face is near yours. He looks shy and when he glances downward, you know he is looking at your hands on his hips. You wonder if he is hard, wonder if you pulled him against you if you’d feel his big hard dick against your thigh. Your eyes flick to his hands, nervously flexing at his sides. Without the sober shield filtering out the thoughts you’ve been trying to steadfastly ignore since the rumor landed in your ears, you think about how fucking long his fingers are and how they’d feel buried in your cunt. For someone who isn’t your type, it sure is difficult not to want him.

Seonghwa pulls away then, tugging on the collar of his shirt for a couple of seconds. Your hands fall away from his body, his absence like a bucket of cold water being dumped on your head.

“You’re drunk,” This sentence is loud enough to hear – although is it directed at you or a reminder to him?

“I heard a rumor about you,” Your words are slurred.

“About me?” He says incredulously and then goes, “Should I call you an Uber?”

“Is your shitty little car here? Can you drive me home? I don’t…” It’s so difficult to concentrate in here. “I don’t feel safe being drunk in an Uber. I feel safe with you.”

The admission would take you by surprise if you weren’t spending a ton of energy in trying to stand upright. You’re so tired and the booze is tugging you downward.

Seonghwa looks taken aback but he nods. “Yeah, I drove here tonight. I’ll take you home.”

“Thank you,”

He glances at the crowded bar and gives a small shake of his head before pointing to the back exit. “Let’s go this way.”

You slur out some sort of affirmative answer as Seonghwa carefully leads you out into the night air. The fresh air makes your head spin and for a split second, you worry about throwing up. Luckily, you keep it together and Seonghwa takes you safely around the side of the bar towards his car.

“Wow, what a piece of shit,” You remark at the sight of the rust bucket.

“‘She may not look like much, kid, but she’s got it where it counts’,” Seonghwa recites as he unlocks the car and opens the passenger door for you.

Swaying on your feet, you go, “Are you quoting something at me?”

“It’s from Star Wars. Well, episode four, specifically.”

“Right, I knew that. I saw that one. I think.” You manage to get into the car without making a complete ass of yourself.

Seonghwa ducks his head inside to bring your seatbelt across from you, buckling it in securely. Some of his hair falls in front of his face while doing so and you can smell the faint hint of jasmine.

“You smell good,” You mumble, “What shampoo is that?”

He chuckles softly, pulling away and closing the door, walking around the car to slide into the driver’s seat. His car is clean even though it’s so old that it has a CD player. It also vibrates a lot as if the engine is trying to escape.

You rest your head against the back of the seat, so tired that you are going to doze off any second. Synthwave music plays quietly as Seonghwa snaps in his own seatbelt.

“What’s your address? Hey, don’t fall asleep yet on me.”

You tilt your head in his direction, opening your eyes. He is looking at you with his fingers curled around the steering wheel. You wonder what it’d be like to sit in his lap. You wonder what noises he makes when he is turned on.

"I heard a rumor about you,” You say again sleepily.

“Yeah, you mentioned although I don’t know what anyone has to say about me. What, do they say I LARP or…still use IRC or something?”

“Dunno what either of those are.”

In the darkness of the car, the lights from the radio and CD player dance across Seonghwa’s skin. You want to pull on his suspenders when you ride him. Your thighs clench. You can’t recall a time you’ve been this horny recently and it’s over the nerdiest guy to ever work in the office. Something is totally wrong with you, as confirmed by your coworker earlier in the night.

Seonghwa angles his body towards you, one hand still on the steering wheel. “Then what is it?”

A very tiny logical part of you is trying to get yourself to shut up. But the much larger drunken part of you is not thinking clearly, is not even thinking ahead a little bit at all so you blurt out, “There’s a rumor going around that you’re really good at sex.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widen so large that you might as well fall into them. It’s too dark to know if he is blushing but he turns away from you, staring out the front dash of the car.

Oblivious to whatever he might be feeling, you continue, “And also that you have a big dick.”

“W-what?!” He exclaims, still unable to look at you.

“Right? That’s what I said. I said…no way! No offense.”

He is silent, mulling this over. In fact, you are almost half asleep by the time he replies carefully, “That’s why everyone is talking to me this week. I was wondering why…I just thought…I don’t know what I thought…” He sounds almost dejected and it makes you feel sad. “I mean, including you.”

Suddenly feeling ashamed, you try to say something but the words come out garbled because your drunken brain doesn’t jive well with the sudden panic that hits you.

But Seonghwa shakes his head, brushing the word salad to the side. “You’re drunk so we won’t talk about it now.”

You go quiet as does he. The silence seems to stretch into infinity. You want to apologize but he isn’t wrong. You did start talking to him because of the rumor. Maybe that makes you just as bad as your gossipy coworker debating having sex with him. But then you think once again of the kind way he made you coffee, and the fact he had you exit the bar from the back so everyone wouldn’t see how drunk you are. You weren’t lying when you told him that he made you feel safe. But you’re just too drunk to try to formulate any of that into words.

Your eyes close, losing the battle against sleep. You are distantly aware of Seonghwa asking for your address again but it’s too late and you drift off.

When your eyes open next, they are looking at an unfamiliar ceiling, your head is throbbing and your mouth is so dry that your tongue is stuck to the roof of it. With a small groan, you sit up slightly, trying to remember what the hell happened and where you are.

You’re in someone’s bed which would be alarming if you weren’t still completely dressed in your clothes from last night. The only thing missing are your shoes since you spot your large purse next to the closed door. The bed sheets smell clean and you aren’t even under the covers, just laying unceremoniously on the top. There is a dresser on one side of the room that has a familiar looking robot built out of Lego parts resting on the top.

It’s the sight of Legos that bring a whole slew of memories back to you. The drinking, your coworkers discussing Seonghwa – oh God, Seonghwa. You recall the way he looked, how he felt so close to you, him offering to drive you home and then –

You groan again, burying your face in your hands. Fuck, I told him about the rumor, my big drunk mouth. He had looked crestfallen, hadn’t he? He must have assumed the random uptick in people talking to him this week had been for a reason but not for that…

Including you.

The words he uttered bounce around in your head, the guilt sliding around in your stomach like disgusting jelly. For a split second, you think you’re going to vomit because of the hangover but manage to hold things down. Very carefully, you swing your legs out of bed and stand up, closing your eyes as your head throbs painfully.

Stopping only briefly to look at a bookshelf in the corner that had the largest and nerdiest assortment of books possible, you open the bedroom door and step out into the living room.

The living room is just a tidy space, clean and comfortable. The window shows the blue sky and the tops of trees, indicating you’re not on the ground floor. There is a stack of books on the glass coffee table. A large PC is near the window with three monitors. Another small table near the front door has a low hanging light over it, littered with paints and miniatures alongside multiple Lego boxes on a smaller shelf.

The couch has a pillow and a blanket on it. Another stab of guilt hits your chest. He had given up his bed for you.

You hover in the doorway, taking in the fact that the living room is somehow exactly what you expected and not at all. Slowly, you walk across the space towards the kitchen where you find Seonghwa. He is making coffee and looks up at the sound of you entering.

“Hey,” You say quietly, “What uh…time is it?”

“It’s a little past ten. So, not too late. Would you like some coffee?”

“Would it be alright if I took a shower? I don’t want to impose. It just helps with the hangover.”

Seonghwa is in an oversized Star Wars long sleeved shirt and sweatpants. His socks have odd looking dice on them that you don’t recognize. His large glasses rest on the bridge of his nose as usual. It’s the first time you’ve seen him wearing something other than business attire.

“Sure, let me just get you the towels. Uhm, would you like some clothes? I can dig out some older clothes of mine, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

A few minutes later, Seonghwa is handing you towels, a large black shirt with a faded design on it (from a video game, he explained) and sweatpants. You rummage around your purse to dig up your emergency Stayed The Night makeup bag. This was the first time you were using it after just sleeping over at a guy’s house and not having sex with him. But you’re glad it’s in there since it has toothpaste, a small toothbrush and some other items you need.

It’s always a gamble going into any man’s bathroom, and it is with a tentative push of the door that you step inside. However, just like the living room, it is clean and organized. Seonghwa even has actual skincare products by the sink. The shower is clean with high end shampoo, conditioner and body wash (also all in separate bottles!).

Underneath the hot water, you wash off the night before. You wash off avoiding Sir Dipshit, you wash off the fact you feel disconnected from your coworkers, you even wash off your gossipy coworkers remark about how you’ve been different.

But you can’t wash off the expression your drunken brain still remembers when you told Seonghwa the rumor. And you can’t wash off the way you felt around him last night when you asked him to dance nor the thoughts you had about him. You haven’t been that turned on around someone in so long. It’s cuz you were drunk, you argue with yourself. Seonghwa just isn’t your type.

After the shower, you dry off, finish cleaning up and change into Seonghwa’s clothes. The shirt is soft, well worn, baggy on your frame and the sweatpants are a little long. But they smell nice and are comfortable. You stare at yourself in the mirror, running your fingers over the fabric. I need to make things right with him. He’s a nice person and he’s been kind to me and now he thinks I only started talking to him because of the rumor.

And to make matters worse, that’s the truth.

Seonghwa is sitting on the couch, two cups of coffee perched on the table. He has a book open in his lap, reading quietly. Tentatively, you sit down opposite him, reaching for the coffee while peering at the cover of the book. It’s some Star Wars book. It looks older than you expected, well worn, and there’s a man has blue skin with red eyes on the cover.

“Thanks for letting me use your shower…and your clothes. And uh…for getting me here safely. And for taking me out the back way so no one saw I was being a messy drunk.”

Seonghwa rests the book next to his coffee, picking up the cup and taking a small sip. The silence is starting to feel awkward now and you wish he would say something.

So, you decide just to leap into it. “Listen, about what I said last night. About the ah…. rumor.” Your cheeks feel warm from just mentioning it. You never thought you’d actually be discussing this with him.

Seonghwa’s hands wrap around the cup as he looks shyly down. His lashes are long, longer than when you spend too much on an overpriced mascara to try to get the same effect.

“Can you…explain how you heard something like this about me?” Seonghwa asks quietly, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

You push through how awkward this is going to be and tell him the entire story of how your coworker mentioned it over coffee. By the time you are done, Seonghwa has turned a deep crimson, his coffee long forgotten after being placed back on the table because he is so embarrassed. Silence hangs in between the two of you for a minute or so. You don’t press him to speak, figuring he deserves some time to sort out how he’s feeling about the entire thing.

“It’s true that I went to the conference and slept with that regional manager. I figured since she lived across the country, it wouldn’t really matter,” He squirms uncomfortably, “I didn’t think she would talk about it and I certainly didn’t think it would spread all over the office. I didn’t know why there was an uptick in people talking to me this week. I didn’t ever dream it could be tied to…that. When it came to us…I guess I thought…uhm maybe you and I were becoming friends.”

You feel a pang in your chest and move closer to Seonghwa, trying to salvage the conversation. “We are friends,” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you know they’re true. Maybe the two of you are very different but Seonghwa still makes you feel safe and seems to see you in a way that everyone else is missing.

But he looks doubtful. “But you only started talking to me because…” He glances at you only for a split second. “Were you trying to…I mean…you and I…” He trails off, wringing his hands together.

You stare at his hands, swallowing. No, you’re not my type. I was curious but there isn’t any attraction there, is what you want to say. The words would be so easy. A quick band-aid over a situation that has gotten out of hand.

“That explains last night. Before we left,” He mumbles bashfully, “I thought maybe I was reading too much into it but you wanted to dance and…” He can’t finish his sentence again but you don’t need him to; you still clearly can recall how it felt to be that close to him and all the lascivious thoughts that popped into your head. You also can’t deal with the fact Seonghwa was worried he was reading too much into it when you were obviously all over him.

You feel stuck. To tell him that you hadn’t thought about him in that way last night would be a lie. But to tell him would be admitting aloud to yourself that Seonghwa, the nerdiest guy you’ve ever met, is someone you’re attracted to. You’ve been protesting the entire time, to your coworkers, and to yourself that Seonghwa isn’t your type and you don’t see him that way. But…

You feel nervous which is strange because you can’t recall the last time you were nervous around someone you found attractive. But Seonghwa, who seems to be as fragile as fine china, is in your hands at this moment. One wrong move and you’re going to drop him and make things even worse.

“Well…uh…usually, you know, I don’t go for the…nerdy type.” Would he be insulted by that? “I was curious because I couldn’t picture such a thing. Like you…being like that. In bed. With the…you know.” You gesture vaguely, unable to mention his rumored big dick again now that you’re sober.

“Right, yeah, of course,” He says quickly, too quickly, “I get that. And I know what people are like when drunk. Not thinking clearly.” Seonghwa looks as if he wants to flee which only makes you talk faster.

“But you were so nice to me. With the coffee. I’ve been…struggling with work lately.” That puts it mildly. “And you were there when I needed someone. And I wasn’t…lying. Last night. When I said that I feel safe with you.”

He looks a little more comforted by this, enough that he is looking up at you through those long lashes.

“But I also…You know…uhm…” You trail off, unsure how to word the next part. Seonghwa looks at you curiously. God, it would be so easy to lie and let him believe I was just drunk last night and that was the end of it, you think.

In fact, any regular person would leap at the lie and use it as a cover. But Seonghwa is still wringing his fucking hands together and you keep watching his fingers and you can’t believe it but you think you’re getting wet again – and this time you can’t blame booze. His entire posture, a mixture of tense and awkward, is strangely endearing. You quickly wonder what he would sound like in bed again and then try to banish the thought.

You’ve been quiet for so long that Seonghwa gently goes, “You were saying?”

But you aren’t really sure what you’re saying. Naturally, that means you keep going. “I do…wonder. If…maybe you’d want to…as friends…with benefits. Because like I said you’re not my type but my body seems to be like…reacting to you…ever since I heard the rumor. And I want to know if the rumor has merit.”

Wow, amazing. Fantastic speech. Not only were most of your sentences unfinished but you basically asked Seonghwa to have sex with you just to see how your body responds like it’s a science experiment.

Seonghwa is turning red again. His voice is slightly hoarse when he replies with, “Are you – ah. Are you asking to have sex with me? As friends?”

“Y…yes.”

Seonghwa’s breathing quickens and he looks away for a moment. You immediately want to crawl in a hole and hide.

“I’m sorry,” You say hastily, “I don’t know what’s come over me. I tell you we’re friends and then immediately ask you for sex after offending you with some ridiculous rumor.” Your hands grip your knees, bracing yourself to stand up and to get out of here as quickly as possible. “Listen, I’m going to get my stuff and go. I’m just gonna Uber back to my place, don’t worry about it –”

Seonghwa’s hand suddenly rests gently on top of yours. The touch knocks the breath out of your lungs. You stare at the sight of his long fingers extending over yours, his hand warm against your skin.

“Okay,” is all he says quietly.

Hardly daring to look up from the sight of his hand, you lock eyes with him. He is still blushing but looks resolute.

“Uhm,” You exhale, “Sorry, I’ve never started a sexual encounter like this before.”

“Me either,” Seonghwa shifts nervously and then says, “How about I just kiss you and if you like it, we can keep going? If you don’t feel anything, then it’s just the rumor clogging your head.”

“S-sure.”

Seonghwa carefully raises his other hand up towards your cheek, brushing against your skin with the back of his fingers. You shiver at the small touch, staring at him as he shifts closer to you. Acutely aware of how utterly surreal this is, you can only look at him as he cups your cheek. He grazes your lips with his thumb and your lips reflexively part at the touch. Your entire body feels as if it is tingling.

You try to tamper down any expectations when Seonghwa leans forward to kiss you. You’re expecting the kiss to be awkward and messy in that unskilled way. You are waiting for him not to know what to do with his tongue and just roll it around in your mouth. Then, you’d tell him thanks but the rumor obviously had taken over your mind and it is better to remain friends without benefits.

But then Seonghwa’s lips do touch yours as you close your eyes. It is a jolt to all your senses, white noise in your head as he kisses you so gently at first that you could imagine the touch. Your breath catches, heart rate accelerating as the kiss continues. His hand resting on top of yours gives a small squeeze, his other hand trailing to the back of your neck.

You can feel yourself melting into the kiss, the tension seeping out of your body as Seonghwa’s tongue slips inside your mouth. There is a heat blossoming in your chest as your thighs clench. He trails small circles against your skin on your lower neck, making you shiver. Your tongue is against his now, your hand moving upwards to grip the front of his shirt, crumpling the Star Wars image up in your fist. He makes a small noise that only spurns you on more. You pull on the shirt so that he is closer, sliding into his lap, straddling him on the couch.

Something drives you forward with reckless abandon, throwing caution to the wind and replacing it with desire. Seonghwa seems to mirror your feelings, his hands moving to your lower back, wiggling underneath the shirt to touch your bare skin. He presses down slightly, pushing you against him.

You can feel the bulge in his sweatpants now and with a jolt, you think that maybe the rumor about the size is going to be true. Your hands are in his hair, his soft blonde locks curled around your fingers as the kissing continues.

Your hangover is now a distant thought; making out with Seonghwa seems to be a miracle cure for a headache. Instinctively, you grind your hips against his bulge and he inhales sharply. His hands move to your ass, gripping the tender flesh there in his hands in a silent urge for you to keep going. You rock your hips against him, your pussy soaking wet. So much for just a kiss, you think dryly, marveling at the way your body responds to Seonghwa.

His phone suddenly rings, jolting you a little by the noise. He glances over at it – it is on the kitchen counter – and gives a small shake of his head.

“Ignore it,” He mumbles and you don’t mind doing that at all, resuming the kiss easily.

The phone falls silent. Seonghwa’s breathing is heavy, mingling with your own, and kissing is becoming not enough. You want more and when he begins to kiss down your jawline and your neck, you reach behind you to take one of his hands and bring it forward, guiding him underneath the band of your sweatpants.

He doesn’t hesitate now that you’ve given silent permission. You’ve been thinking about his hands ever since the rumor made you turn attention towards him and now Seonghwa presses his palm against the front of your underwear as his lips find yours again.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. When the kiss breaks, you take in the sight of Seonghwa, breathless, his chest rising and falling quickly. His cheeks are tinted pink and his eyes are wide behind his large frames. You think about the times you’ve taken note of him in the past – a couple seconds of walking past him quickly in the hallway, not paying any attention because he came off as such a wallflower or zoning out when he talked in a meeting because you never could understand what he was saying and it made you feel stupid and insecure, and even the couple of times you giggled over someone making a joke at his expense. And now here you are, in his lap, with his hand against your cunt and every nerve in your body screaming for him. Jokes on me.

Seonghwa pushes your underwear to the side, his fingers probing your folds as he leans forward and kisses you again. The sensation of his fingers touching you is making you dizzy. From this angle, it’s too difficult for his fingers to enter you which is about the only thing in the entire world you want at this moment.

Muffled because of the kissing, you mumble, “Will you – your fingers –”

To your surprise, Seonghwa smiles for a second against your lips. You pull away, just enough to see his expression. “What?” You ask.

“Nothing, I just…I noticed you looking at my hands a lot the past few days.”

Now it is your turn to feel embarrassed. “Oh, I…” You don’t really know what to say. It’s difficult to think when all you want is him.

“Here, sit next to me,” He pats the space next to him and you slide off his lap.

Seonghwa then gets on the floor in front of you, reaching upwards and sliding your sweatpants off your hips, leaving you in just your underwear and his borrowed t-shirt. He brings two fingers to the front of your underwear, pressing down on the fabric. “Well, she said he ate pussy like a champ.” Your coworker’s words bounce around in your head as Seonghwa removes your underwear and pushes your legs open so that you’re spread out in front of him.

It’s a bit surreal to be in Seonghwa’s apartment on a Sunday morning, sitting on his couch half naked, with him on his knees in front of your pussy. His hands grip your thighs, pushing your legs apart as far as comfortable. You stare at the way his fingers dig into your skin, wanting nothing more than to have them buried in your cunt just to see what it feels like.

But he leans forward and very carefully, using just the tip of his tongue, he flicks it across your swollen clit. You shudder, gasping but Seonghwa keeps a firm grip on your thighs to keep you spread in front of him. He doesn’t stop, using the tip of his tongue to stimulate your clit. Your hands grip the cushions of the couch, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of Seonghwa’s tongue brushing against your nub. His eyes are closed and no matter how much your body shakes from the pleasure, his hold on your thighs doesn’t lessen, keeping you in place.

You are cursing loudly, taken aback by just how good he can make you feel with the tip of his tongue. His pace steadily increases against your clit. Your hips buck but he doesn’t stop, his tongue expertly dancing over your sensitive nub.

Distantly, you are aware his phone is ringing again. But he doesn’t stop and you aren’t about to bring things to a halt for a fucking phone call. You thought Seonghwa would be messily rolling his tongue around – or even worse, just focusing on your hole and wondering why you couldn’t finish. The rumor saying he could eat pussy seemed as ridiculous as all the other aspects of what your coworker told you.

Forcing your eyes open, you look down at Seonghwa working your clit. There is something sexy about how he looks, with his eyes closed, using just the tip to make you feel this good, and his hands holding you in place. Even his glasses, usually something you found so dorky before, look good on him now.

He still hasn’t put his fingers inside you but your climax is rapidly approaching. You want to try to tell him you’re close but speaking is impossible. All that leaves your mouth are garbled noises of pleasure and occasionally you whine out his name. Your knuckles are white from gripping the cushions and your orgasm suddenly begins, hips bucking but Seonghwa holds them down.

Your head rolls back against the couch as the pleasure overtakes you. Your entire body tingles, skin incredibly warm. Seonghwa slows down as you cum until your hips lower back down. Only then he pulls away. Breathless, you can’t even look down at him because your body feels heavy from how intense the orgasm was.

Seonghwa releases his hold on your thighs but quietly goes, “Leave your legs spread, I want to see your pussy.”

It’s the first time something vulgar has left his mouth this entire time and it turns you on. Having talked to Seonghwa only a couple of times very quickly prior to this week, you never thought you’d hear such a sentence from him especially directed at you.

Finally, he brings his fingers to your cunt, spreading your lips open slightly. “Can I ask you something?”

You think you reply but it comes out a bit garbled.

But Seonghwa takes it as an affirmative and goes, “Last night, when you asked me to dance…what were you thinking about?” To your amazement, he actually looks shy after asking even though he just made you cum thirty seconds ago.

This meant you had to form words now, an arduous task given the circumstances. “I was wondering if you were in shape because sometimes the way your work clothes looked on you…and I was thinking about if the rumors about you were true. And…” You swallow, “I was thinking about your fingers and how long they were.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Seonghwa slides a finger in your hole, making you gasp in both relief and surprise. He looks a bit satisfied and you realize he must have known you were thinking about his fingers and just wanted to hear you admit it.

“What do you think?” He murmurs, “Does it feel long?”

His finger is completely buried in your cunt and he wiggles it slightly, making you clamp down around it instinctively. Seonghwa’s eyes move upwards to look at you, taking in the sight of you whimpering and clearly wanting more.

He inserts another finger while going, “Does it feel how you thought it would?” Slowly, he moves his two fingers in your cunt, and you can hear how soaking wet your hole is.

You watch, entranced at the sight of Seonghwa’s long and slender fingers pumping in your cunt. Each time he pulls them out, you can see your juices smeared across his skin before he pushes them back inside. He wiggles them each time they are buried in your hole and it feels so good that you don’t think you can talk. You try to move your hips in time with his fingers but his other hand keeps your hips down against the couch.

The phone is ringing again. You’d wish it would shut up already. Seonghwa seems too dazed to even notice, staring at your cunt swallowing his fingers.

“Is that the sort of thing you were thinking about? How my long fingers would feel in your tight cunt?” He asks softly, “You’re really tight. I don’t know how I’m going to fit inside you.”

The confession catches your breath because he is teasing you now, skirting around the rumor about his big dick without showing you.

“You can barely take my fingers. You think you can take another one?”

“Yes,” You breathe out, “I can. I can take your cock too.”

“We’ll see about that, baby,” He murmurs and the affectionate use of ‘baby’ makes you shiver.

Another finger dips into your hole as Seonghwa finger fucks you. His pace has steadily increased but with three fingers, you can feel your hole jammed full of him. He’s right, you are tight and you don’t know how you’d take his apparent big cock but the universe knows you’d be trying.

Seonghwa leans forward and wraps his lips around your clit while finger banging your hole as much as your cunt allows. You groan, the pleasure spiking, your hand grabbing onto his blonde hair as he finally releases his hold on your hips. This allows you to grind your pussy against his fingers as he sucks hard on your clit. To your amazement, you know that you’re going to cum again already. He doesn’t let up on your clit or your hole, his fingers making obscene noises from how wet you are. When he wiggles them inside you, it’s enough to make your brain hazy with pleasure.

You curse as your second climax begins. You can feel yourself gushing around his fingers, your juices smearing all over his fingers down to his palm. You’re grinding against his face, probably making a mess on his glasses too for all you know but cannot stop yourself. You’re moaning and whimpering, your head pressing against the back of the couch as the pleasure becomes overwhelming.

Collapsing against the couch when the orgasm begins to fade, you can hardly catch your breath. Your entire body tingles. You cannot recall the last time you had someone make you cum that close together. You didn’t even know it was possible.

Opening your eyes, you look downwards at Seonghwa. He has pulled his fingers out of your hole and put them in his mouth, tasting you. His glasses are slightly askew and messy in the most pornographic way. His tongue swirls around his fingers. The entire image is immediately burned into your brain.

The phone rings again. Annoyed, you glare at it on the counter. “Should you answer that?” Not that you don’t want to hop on his dick immediately but the mere fact they won’t stop calling makes you worry something bad has happened and you’re keeping Seonghwa from it for your own selfish reasons.

“I should although admittedly I don’t want to,” He replies, standing up.

The bulge in his pants is evident and large. You hope the phone call won’t take long so you can jump on him. It’s amazing how he’s made you cum twice already but you still want more.

He looks at his phone and frowns. “It’s work,” He directs this at you before answering, “Hello?” A long pause as someone rambles on the other end. Then, “No one else can help you with this?” More silence, more rambling from the other end. “No, I’m just…I’m in the middle of something, that’s all,” He mumbles, shooting you a glance, “Yeah, I get it. No, we don’t want that to happen. Yeah, give me an hour, alright?”

Your stomach falls as Seonghwa ends the call and looks chagrined. “I’m sorry. I gotta go into the office. The new guy fucked up the software update push and it’s gotta go out today before everyone else comes back tomorrow.”

You distantly remember a meeting two weeks ago about a software update but since it had more to do with Seonghwa’s side than yours, you spaced out. That had been happening a lot lately.

Still, you suddenly feel shy and embarrassed, quickly snatching up your underwear off the floor. “Right, yeah, I get it.”

“Let me drive you home on my way in,” He says hurriedly, scampering back over as you slip your underwear back on.

You really don’t want to Uber after being half fucked, in another man’s clothes, slightly hungover so you accept. Seonghwa looks relieved; he is jittery like he expects you to be mad over the fact he has to go to work. He sits down next to you, looks as if he is going to reach for your hand and then has second thoughts.

“I’m sorry again,” He says.

You want to laugh. Seonghwa, the least likely guy on the planet, just made you cum twice and he’s apologizing? You aren’t even sure for what. You reach up for his glasses, gently removing them from his face. He looks confused.

“You might wanna clean these before you go in,” You say quietly and he realizes the state they are.

He blushes, nodding. “Y-yeah, good idea. Thanks.” He takes the glasses back, scurrying off to get cleaned up for work.

You sit there, torn between confusion over where exactly this left you and Seonghwa, how a guy like him could make you feel so good, and what happens next.

Well, you think, at least I know one part of the rumor is definitely true. He really can eat pussy like a champ.

PART TWO HERE.

🌻 Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multiland - @whatudowhennooneseesyou - @jess-1404 - @just-here-to-read-01 - @likexaxdaydream - @senpai-of-doom - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @talkbykhalid - @pyeonghongrie-main - @inneratinyrebel - @8tinytings - @cherrypandora - @almondmilkeu - @kitten4sannie - @hwalysm - @revehosh - @mulletjoonsupremacy - @byungaji - @erensluut - @singularity777 - @hwa-whiskers - @luxvatz - @seonghwasstar - @eyesonlyformingi - @rxnexxi - @rosealie05 - @xirenex - a couple of you couldn’t be tagged so i’ll message you separately, sorry.

#seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fics #ateez smut #ateez fics #wallflower #kpop fic #100 notes #500 notes #1000 notes

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4mnji · 2 months

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OPPOSITES ATTRACT ᡣ𐭩 goth!choso x coquette!reader

warnings: nothing to heavy just some kissing n ass touching at the end, choso n reader r like 20, abbreviations and lowercases intended, n word usage once, written with a black women in mind but anyone can read ofc 😚

wc: 628

a/n : hihi guysss im nini and welcome to my debut post. this has been sitting in my notes along with some other stuff i’ve written for the longestttt time and im ready to share them to the world now. i hope yall enjoy these hcs of my bbygirl choso :3

goth!choso who’s been well..emo for as long as he can remember. the nigga was 13 years old dressing like rodrick heffley and listening to heavy metal rock music 😭 like he wasn’t playing bout this lifestyle.

goth!choso who always thought that his future gf would’ve been someone who is just as emo and gothic as he was but boy was he wrong.

goth!choso who couldn’t explain why coquette!reader caught his attention so quickly. he’s never been a fan of the cute pink girly aesthetic, not that he hated it but y’all know he been an emo since he basically came out his momma’s womb, so he always preferred if girls had a similar aesthetic to him. all that didn’t even cross his mind when he laid his eyes on u, how could it when u just looked so pretty n cute ???!

goth!choso who wasn’t even planning to approach u and was just going to head home and lie in his bed while reminiscing abt the cute girl he saw in the cafe. that is until u decided to approach him and compliment his outfit. a cute pink blush creeps up onto his cheeks and he doesn’t even get to thank u bc he so busy admiring how beautiful u are. u give him a gorgeous smile and hand him a little note that says “text me •ᴗ•” with ur number on it. with that beautiful smile still plastered on ur face, u wave ‘bye’ to him and walk away.

goth!choso who gets home that day contemplating with his phone in his hand if he should text u or not. after a good 10 mins of pacing around his room and giving himself some motivational talk, he sends u a message and exits the messaging app almost immediately.

goth!choso who’s kinda surprised when u actually respond to his message in less than 2 minutes. from that point on u n choso hit it off from there.

goth!choso who’s been with coquette!reader for almost a year now and he loves u so so much !! he was always more than happy to give u money so u could buy more of those cute lil bows and accessories that u loved wearing or those pink coquette themed decor items that u loved placing all throughout ur apartment. he adored ur obsession with the coquette lifestyle sm. he thought it was so adorable and loved ur dedication towards it.

goth!choso who has grown accustomed to the color pink and even started wearing n buying more pink clothing just so he could match with u sometimes. u knew ur bf wasn’t a huge fan of pink and u always thought he would stick with his dark aesthetic so it made u extremely happy when u saw him frequently starting to wear pink clothing !

goth!choso who has begged u numerous times to try out the emo/gothic style bc he was really curious to see how u would look in it. eventually u caved in and decided to surprise him and got this outfit and wore it to one of ur date nights with him. he couldn’t get over how good u looked and this just confirmed for him that u would always look good no matter what aesthetic u had !! when he took u back to his apartment, he wouldn’t even let yall get through the door before he picked u up, hands rubbing all up on ur ass while he left long sloppy kisses along ur jawline and neck, attempting to take u to his room without bumping into a wall or a piece of furniture.

goth!choso & coquette!reader who r the exact definition of opposites attract !!

moodboards ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ

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exhaslo · 8 months

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Kinktober Day 16- Miguel x Villian!Reader (Bondage)

*Requested by reader ;) *

The age of heroes was long gone, therefore you thought it was safe to play the part of a villain. Not really a villain, per se, you were a thief. Upon reading about how glorious the past thieves and villains were, you wanted to give your life a new thrill. Taking upon the name of, 'Black Cat', you dedicated your nights to stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, or sometimes to your pockets. Which ever gave you more of a high.

"Ohhhhhh, look at those earrings she is wearing! I'm sure she won't notice if I take them~"

"I'm sure she will,"

"No she-Ah!"

You yelped away from the window, wondering who was talking to you. To your surprise, it was a tall muscular man in a suit. This must have been the big scary Spiderman that everyone was talking about. Your eyes wandered from his head to his toe. He was much finer than the stories you heard. Ain't no way a man like that was single. You swore a lightbulb appeared above your head. There was something new to steal now.

"Don't believe we've officially met, I'm Black Cat, but you can call me Kitty." You said with a wink.

"Gatita? (kitty?)" He repeated.

You nearly gasped. He was Spanish too, one of your many weaknesses in a man! Holding your chest, you nearly stumbled. What would happen if you just surrounded yourself to him? Spiderman was a hero, perhaps you can taint him!

"Wow, that just rolls right off the tongue-ahem, anyway, there's no way such a big hero like yourself is here to stop lil ol' me from stealing some earrings, right?"

"No. Just patrolling and saw a shady figure looking to break in."

"I am not shady!" You said with a huff and approached him, "But, I'll be a good kitty tonight and go home. Maybe if we meet again, I can be good to you~" You purred, trailing your finger against his chest.

You quickly left with a wide grin against your lips. Oh he was so toned! You casually glanced back, hoping that your flirting was good enough. It had been a while since you did something so bold. Well, the mask sure helped.

----------

Miguel just stood there, wondering what had just happened. Normally he wouldn't let such petty thieves get away without teaching them a lesson, but then again, you didn't steal anything yet. That, and Miguel had not been flirted with in such a long time that he was in shock. Your casual touch against his skin made him tense. You called yourself a good kitty for him. That was something he was going to think about all night.

----------

As luck would have it, you kept bumping into Spiderman. It was always whenever you were going to steal something petty or for yourself. Never when it was for others. It made you wonder if he was watching what you were stealing. If so, where would he draw the line? It felt like your flirting was working because Spiderman had started to flirt back! Oh, you nearly dropped on your knees the first time he said something so proactive! You nearly folded right then and there for him!

"Not yet, (y/n)! You need to think!"

"(Y/n)? What a pretty name," Spiderman said with a hum. You let out a whine as your cat claws stroked down the wall you were about to climb,

"You're so mean to me!" You teased, facing the tall man, "Are you going to look me up when you get home, huh Spidey?"

"Now why would I want to look up criminals?" He drew closer to you, "Unless you want me too?"

"Tsk, tsk, this kitty won't like that. This game has to be fair."

"I don't play games with thieves." Spiderman hummed lowly, his hand pressed against the wall as he hovered over you, "Now what were you trying to steal this time?" He asked.

You gave him your best pout, trying to act innocent. Why was this man so attractive!? If only you can match a face with that sexy voice of his. You bit you lower lip as you took notice of the position you were in. This was straight out of a comic book! Argh, if only you weren't restricted by his mask. You would totally kiss him!

"Why don't I let you guess?" You placed a hand against his chest, "If you guess correctly, I'll reward you~"

"I don't play games with-"

"Boo! Perhaps next time you can play with this kitty. I'm flexible~" You whispered in his ear before dashing off.

-------------

Miguel inhaled deeply as he watched you scurry off. He kept saying that he did not play games with criminals, yet here he was, letting you run off. Like a game of cat and mouse, only he was a Spider. Miguel groaned lowly as your last words repeated in his mind. Next time he might want that reward you were tempting him with. Next time, he might stop playing games and catch you...Just to see how flexible you really were. It all depends on how you were going to be and what you were going to steal.

-------------

This was it! This was really going to test your flirting skills with Spiderman. You might be going too far, but hell, this was for your own amusement. You wanted to steal Spiderman for yourself. Such a fine man deserved to be yours. You could not go to bed without thinking of him being intimate with you. You wanted him! Chuckling to yourself, you stared at the adult store in front of your, waiting for Spiderman to appear.

"What are you doing, gatita?" Spiderman said with a hesitant sigh. You smirked towards him,

"What? Can't even steal myself some relief? I'm tired of being a good kitty~"

"Rel-" Miguel stopped himself, feeling that thin line slowly breaking, "You don't need that."

"Awe~ Why not?" You slowly approached Spiderman, "Remember that game last time? Guess what I'm going to steal and I'll reward you? Well, it will be an extra sweet reward~"

"Fuck," Oh, you weren't expecting that, "I'm done playing games."

Before you can whine, you yelped as Spiderman fired his webbing towards you. You gasped as both of your hands were stuck to the building. Spiderman drew closer to you, webbing your hands more firmly so your claws couldn't break you free.

"You've been a bad, gatita. I'm going to have to punish you after all," His voice was low and raspy. Did you actually succeed?

"Oh? And how are you-ah~"

You gasped once more as Spiderman started to rub his fingers against your cunt. The fabric causing a burning friction. You tried to close your legs, but Spiderman raised them and webbed them to the wall as well. This was an embarrassing position! You were completely caught in his web.

"Miguel," He whispered, trailing his fingers against the rip of your pants, "(Y/N), if you want relief so badly, then I'll give it to you."

Shit, this was actually happening. You felt yourself grow wetter just by him telling you his name. At least now you had something to yell out. Muffling a moan, you whined as Miguel lowered your pants. The bottom half of his mask disappeared as he brought his tongue to your wet pussy. Your eyes widen as your saw fangs. So those rumors were true. Before you could ask him about them, you let out a loud moan as he licked your folds.

"M-Miguel!" You yelped in shock. Miguel just looked up at you thru his mask, licking your wet folds in the process,

"You can't lick yourself here, gatita, so I will." His voice vibrated throughout your body, causing you to shiver in delight.

You tried to arch your back as he wiggled his tongue all over your pussy. A burning sensation traveling all over your body to your cunt. His hands stroking your legs, making you more sensitive. Miguel raised his head slightly, sucking against your clit. You cried out, feeling your growing pleasure. You felt his smirk as he slid his hand over your cunt, sliding two of his large digits inside of you. That was your final straw as you cam against his hand.

You whined once more as Miguel kept fucking his fingers into your throbbing pussy, not giving you a chance to rest. His tongue still against your clit, eagerly sucking and licking. This was actually happening. Spiderman was fucking you. Trembling as Miguel curled his finger's inside you, you started to grind your hips against his hand. This was much better than whatever toy you were going to steal. Another gasp came out of you as Miguel started to pump his fingers faster. You wanted these webs off.

"C-Come on, Spidey, I-I'll be a good, ah, kitty, lemme g-go~" You begged, feeling another orgasm forming. Miguel looked at you, freeing your abused clit,

"Don't like it when you're trapped in my web?" He asked, bringing his fangs against your neck, "Gotta tie up criminals. Including bad gatitas." He whispered, sucking against your neck.

Your whines got tuned out by your moans since Miguel pumped his fingers into your g-spot. Your vision blurred for a second as you cam once more. Miguel removed his fingers, giving them a lick as he freed his large cock. Pre-cum already dripping from his tip. You were brought back to your senses once you laid eyes on it. How was that going to fit? There was no way you could move either.

"Awe, is my gatita scared?" Miguel teased, pressing the tip of his cock against your soaked pussy, "Why don't I give you a reward for not stealing anything?"

"Mhm-Miguel...It's...too hn...b-big," You stuttered, trembling as he slowly slid his cock inside your gummy walls, "D-Does y-your training...including...d-dick growth?"

"Hah," Miguel almost let out a rare laugh.

You wanted to say you were joking, but you weren't. Miguel was so big and thick. You were shaking as you felt your pussy stretch like never before. It hurt at first, but this position was making you adjust quickly. You were spread out like a damn butterfly. Thank god there were no cameras or nearby people. You flung your head back, moaning as you felt his tip hit your cervix. Who knew Spiderman had such a big dick. Who knew it would even fit inside you!

"Fuck, look at that. What a good gatita." Miguel groaned lowly.

You whined softly as you felt your walls squeeze him. Miguel leaned in to kiss you before beginning his rough thrusts. Your eyes widen as you moaned into the kiss, surprised by his strength. You felt him fuck the breathe right out of your throat. With each thrust, Miguel bruised your cervix. He held your hips, climbing onto the wall to fuck you deeper. If only you could hold onto him. You felt so vulnerable in this position, unable to move. It was like you were just his fuck toy.

You swore you saw stars as Miguel made you cum again. He grunted as his cock started to get a white ring from your juices. He quicken his pace, causing you to moan from overstimulation. How many more orgasms' was this man going to draw out of you. You started to feel dizzy, but you didn't want him to stop. Hearing another grunt, Miguel held your waist tighter, almost piercing it with his talons. He slammed his dick into you harshly, pouring his cum into your womb.

"That's right, good gatita's like their milk." Miguel panted softly. You just trembled,

"A-Ah~" You moaned lowly, feeling his hot load fill you.

Miguel waited a moment before pulling out. He watched as a mixture of his cum and your juices rolled down your legs. He freed you from his webbing and fixed your suit. Glancing up at the building before you, he smirked under his mask,

"I'll let you steal just one thing from that store, but I'll have to punish you again." He whispered in your ear, holding your waist close to his. Your body leaned against his, unable to think straight,

"Do you like seeing this kitty all tied up?"

"I'd be lying if I said no."

"Then I'll reward my precious hero and grab more bondage...That doesn't involve sticky webs." You whined, still removing his webs from your suit. Miguel smirked, biting against your neck as he rubbed your pussy again,

"But you enjoy these sticky webs." He poked against your hole, causing you to melt under his touch,

"L-Lemme steal...mhm...something first."

"Yes, my good little gatita."

#kinktober #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel x reader

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suguruplsr · 6 months

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That boy is mine

featuring.. Shidou Ryusei

✰ ✰ ✰ Everyone knows that the oh so famous footballer has had many women in his bed, despite his uh.., wild, behavior. But all that had shut down when he met his, now, assertive and successful girlfriend, (wife). Unfortunately, there’s a few people that just don’t understand the saying, “my man.” Good thing your boyfriend likes it when you’re a bit worked up.

,, x fem reader , slight jealousy , party setting , dirty talk w/ sensual moments + groping , light public sex (implied people know it’s happening) , fucks u in a garage on his car , pussy eating , light clit play , male masturbation , suffocating (briefly)

↬ 1K Event Masterlist

wc: 2.5k+

- divider @/benkeibear

The party was bustling with people coming in and dancing to their hearts content. which of course meant you had to greet hundreds of people as they came to congratulate you, the CEO of your company and an upcoming millionaire. with a hair care line and salons that have helped many people with their hair, keeping it healthy and nourished, over the past few years, you’ve able to build over one-hundred salons from your own hard work and dedication.

and of course, your loving pro soccer player boyfriend decided to throw one big ass party for you at one big ass mansion he rented for the time being. and you love him. you really do. but it’s just so frustrating seeing him flaunt around with his good looks, not bothering to correct the woman who get too comfortable with him. not saying that he doesn’t. he’s just less.. watchful? about it, compared to you. he won’t hesitate to shrug them off, but any compliments and giggles boosts his ego.

much to your dismay.

finally able to get away from the stale area around big double doors, you head towards the table filled with drinks, passing by a few people whom you can’t remember and brushing off their hey’s. you’ll just lead them to believe the loud, and frankly, shitty, music to have clogged your ears. you grab a wine cup filled with lemonade, thanking the worker beside it before bracing for the large crowd that was in the living room.

could they be anymore clingy? you think, with disgust of course. you were greeted with the sight of ryusei raising a toast, loud and proud with a grin while there were people who, tried, to touch up on those muscular arms of his.

maybe you could pay off everyone to not talk about you hitting someone with a wine glass..

you shake away the mildly disturbing intrusive thought, “and of course, this one goes to the cute woman who stole my heart.” you see him flashing his silly smile towards you, making one of your own form and dissipate the heavy feeling in your heart. you raise your glass up with him, making everyone fall suite with aw’s and praises of their own.

“you sure know how to draw a crowd.” you walk over to him, giving him a quick peck on his lips that he chased after, but clicking his tongue, clearly displeased with your swiftness. “yea, gotta keep em’ happy~” he drawls, looking at you as he takes a sip of his beer. you believe his words, especially with how attractive he looks in his black low cut button-up, with a pair of matching black slacks that he’ll probably complain about being too tight later. along with his sleeves rolled up, veins peeking out lightly. busy admiring him, you step closer, feeling the signature movement of his arm wrapping around your shoulder.

and his cologne smells good. not that surprising considering he only wears the ones you buy for him.

but fuck, no wonder they wanted your man.

“ya done?” ryusei’s fingers slid under your neck, lifting your head up to his, and you hum, fiddling with his buttons, dragging a hand along the open area of his chest. “not yet.” you flirt, making him chuckle, guiding you towards the long couch. you two sat at the end of it, placing your drinks on the counter right beside it, both of you finally away from the party goers. and you decide to bask in your tiny moment with him, you really needed it if anything. “oh look at youu. gorgeous ♡!” ryusei pulls your legs over his as you giggle, pulling yourself onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“baby cmon, s’just a dress.” you sigh. you chose something simple, really, too busy focusing on doing your hair only to find out it wouldn’t match your previous outfit like you hoped it would. so you opted for a cute little metallic dress with a matching pair of silver heels. heels you already want to take off. “nah. it’s not just a dress..” ryusei trails off, pink eyes shamelessly stuck on the dip of your cleavage. “uh huh. eyes up here big boy. maybe you can can take it off later.” you smack his chest lightly, making him groan with a little pout, leaning down and stealing your lips.

“gonna get me hard if ya keep talkin’ like that baby.” he huffs against your lips, and trailing his hands around the curve of your waist, groping it. “maybe that’s the point hun.” but you pull away, grinning at the sight of him all riled up, giving your plump thigh a slap, “you playin’ with me t’night sweetie?” and you only give a sound of amusement, adjusting so you can feel around his pockets. you made sure to graze your fingers around the ever growing bulge, “you still got my lip gloss ryu?”

ryusei scoffs, biting back his complaint and playing into your teasing. “yea, on your right.” and you pull out the tube with a grin, placing a kiss on his lips. “thank you. do it f’me?” he eagerly takes the lip gloss as you wipe away the gloss on his lips that transferred from yours. “course’ baby. anything f’you.” notice the lower octave of his voice, as if he’s way more tame that usual. and you almost fear for yourself as he holds your chin gently, fixing you up in a well practiced way that came from him sporadically deciding to learn how to do your little makeup routine months ago.

you two get lost in your little conversation about the strawberry scent of your lips gloss, giving each other soft touches and sharing your drinks. “c’mon sweetheart~ s’ the closest thing ta’ kissin’ those pretty lips of yours.” and you smack ryusei’s chest for the nth time that night, “and if you eat it, it’s gonna be the closest thing to your death, antenna head!” and ryusei raised a brow, putting his beer on the counter, “eh? you wanna act like that itoshi now? might hafta’ teach ya how to be nice..” and you smile, placing a kiss on his chin as he grips your waist tighter.

you’d love to make joke about his crush on rin’s brother, but you two get interrupted by a shrilly voice, “ryusei!! oh my god! it’s been—“ “it’s shidou.” ryusei clicks his tounge, mood obviously dampened as some girl slides beside him on the couch, ignoring your presence, but saying hello and every word under the sun in that annoying voice of hers towards ryusei. “wait- hold up. who are you again?” you narrow your eyes, looking at the girl expectantly, making her look at you as if, you, interrupted her conversation.

if anything, a one-sided conversation. but you’ll save that joke for later.

“oh im just a friend, but anyway—“ “anyways. im busy with my girl. so could you back the hell off?” ryusei rolls his eyes, leaning back and intertwining one of his hands with yours as you wrap a hand around his neck. maybe you felt a bit possessive tonight. but you knew tonight was just not the night to have any annoyances or anything mess with your mood. “oh, i thought she was just one of your little girlfriends.. y’know how you are..” she purrs, glancing over to you.

it took every minuscule bone in your body to not reach over and slap that disgusting look off her face. “you mean how he was? you know, i’d say you could come back after you correct yourself, but considering your invitation was clearly a mistake, you should go. unless you really wanna know how he is now?” your sweet voice was laced with an obvious annoyance, pretty acrylic nails running along ryusei’s neck. you don’t even notice the trance-like look in his eyes, darker and focused on you. the girl looked upset, looking over to him for help, gaining not a single drop of attention in response.

“tsk, i’ll be on my way then.” she shrugs, and you smile, waving and quickly pulling ryusei into a kiss the second she gives one last glance. and he kisses you like he’s fighting your lips, biting your bottom one and stealing away your breath. you two could care less about any other eyes that could possibly be on you two, staring at each other hungrily as you leave kisses around each others lips, holding onto each other as if you’ll pull away. “fuck. you’re so hot like this. all fuckin’ worked up n’ shit. you jealous baby?” he says, voice all breathy with need as you whine. “no. just irritated.”

and he gives you a look, not believing you. “uh huh. c’mon, gonna fuck it all away cuz’ a pretty princess like you deserves it.” ryusei grins, lifting you up while you wrap your legs around him. you feel the hot air circulating around the house brush your ass, dress riding up. “ryu~ they’re gonna see my..” you stop, embarrassed, and gesturing behind you. but he licks his lips, big hands grabbing your buttocks as he takes long strides to the garage. “shh. s’okay. they’re not gonna remember.” and you hope he’s right, hiding your face in his chest.

you swear you could’ve heard a few whistles, murmurs and questions thrown at you two, but it all disappears with a loud slam of the door. ryusei locks it before setting you on the cold metal hood of his new car, a Silver 2024 Ford Mustang. you look up at him with a disgusted look. “seriously?” “seriously.” ryusei grins, rolling up your dress and crouching down, wrapping his arms around your thighs to lock his head between your thighs.

“been wanting to fuck you on it y’know? y’r cum is the last decoration to make it look perfect~” he murmurs into your thighs, kissing and biting around your cunt. his breath ghosts your panties that were already stained with wetness after all those kisses and touches. one of your hands fall to his spiky hair, running though it while you lean back a bit. “y’r so nasty ryu. wantin’ me to cum all over. bet you’re gonna fuck me on the truck next. then make me suck you off i-in the car..” your words make him giggle into your skin, biting and licking at the fabric of your panties. “ya know me well babe. sit up, needa taste you.” and you bit your lip, listening obediently and helping him roll down your undies.

which he tucked in one of his pockets.

“gonna make you forget all about that bitch from earlier, kay? only thing y’r gonna think about is me makin’ you cum.” his confidence makes your pussy throb, nodding and pulling him up closer onto the car by his hair. ryusei groans, mouth latching to your cunt. he quickly starts lapping up your juices, not stalled by the movement of your back arching, pulling the blonde-pinkish strands harder. “mhm! wanna make you up l-lick up my cum n’ make a mess ryu..” you mewl, grinding into his face as his nails dig into the plush of your thighs.

he kisses your clit, rolling his tongue around it before aiming for your pussy and inserting his tongue. the fat muscle reaches deep in your gummy walls, his mouth agape around your pussy to suck your pussy lips. “mm, love y’r tongue ryu! always making me feel good~” you moan, and he thinks he can feel how your pussy throbs, beating with a heart of its own and clenching around his tongue.

ryusei moans into your pussy. his cock was straining in his slacks, pushing against the fabric and trying to get free. he pushes you down further on the car, pulling up from your addicting cunny. “shit, gonna cum in my pants.” he whines, adjusting you so your body was sideways. believe it or not, he does care about his windows. you smile, looking down at the bulge peeking in his pants. “s’okay ryu, touch yourself, wanna hear you moan in my pussy.” you slide closer, lower body hanging off so he could reach down to his hard cock without the car getting in the way.

“you’re too nice baby.” he smirks, giving a slap on your clit. he un-buttons his pants, cock meeting the cold air. he leans down, kissing your the neglected bud of your clit, slowly moving down to your hole that dripped down to the hood his car. “tastin’ so good.” he mutters, dipping his head lower to let his mouth suck on its comfort place.

your pussy of course.

as his tongue slides back into your hole, one of his hands grab your shaking thigh, raising it onto his shoulder while he gives his cock a few slow strokes. “ryuuu, go faster. make sure you fuck your cock at the same pace too baby~” you whimper, easing your other leg onto his shoulder. and he hums into your pussy, heat welling up inside him as his balls tighten. “yea baby? look at you, always thinkin’ about me. so cute.. fuuuck.” ryusei moans as he slurps up your cunt, thrusting his tongue consistently into your plump and goey pussy, making you whine, eyes rolling back. “um.. uh— o-oh my god. gonna cum ryu!” you cry out, feeling each hungry lap of his tongue.

you think you can even hear him swallowing.

“yea? cum on my tongue and my car. make one big ass mess f’me baby~” he purrs, moving the hand on your thigh to your clit, rolling and rubbing the bud under his finger. your squirming does little to deter him, only egging him on to fuck into his hand faster. he practically gets off to the fact he’s making you feel good. your back completely arches, pussy pushing closer to his mouth as you cum, mind blank and body full of pleasure as your thighs clamp around his face, ryusei feels a sudden rush of blood heading towards his dick. fuck, getting suffocated between the home of your thighs is a fucking miracle. the juices and globs of cum that seeped and fell to his open tongue made it even better.

hot warm cum spurts into the palm of his hand and he licks you up, his eyes rolling back with a low “fuuuck” and you two sit in your moment of high until he’s prying open your legs, a big smug look on his face as he looks at the mess you created. “good fuckin’ girl. look at you, messin’ up my car mama.” he chuckles, licking his lips and smearing his cum stained hand along your soaked thighs. making you gag and swat him away.

he helps you get away from the puddle of cum on the hood, untying your heels, which surprisingly didn’t stab him in the back at all this time. “can’t we just go home ryu? i dont wanna put those back on. plus my thighs are aching because of your big head.” you whine, hugging him and sitting your chin on his chest. he feins a look of thought as you kiss the abs that peeked through out from his shirt.

he grabs his phone his pocket, checking the time. “sorry baby, just a bit longer and then we can kick em’ out. til then.. how about we pick up where we left off, sweet cheeks?”

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chanshoesunite · 2 years

Text

Chan wants to record your moans for a song

GENRE: smut WORD COUNT: 2.6k Author’s Note (Author Hare): This is my 500 follower hug for y’all inspired by two prompts given to me by my favourite reader of all times, Author Tortoise. Maybe you can guess what they are! WARNINGS: rated M (minors do not engage!), unsafe sex (wrap it up, kids), slight dirty talk, Chan calls reader a slut (but in a very loving way)

You unlock the door, enter the flat and kick off your heeled ankle boots, balancing two bags of takeout as you do. Having successfully completed that task, you dump them on the floor and shrug out of your coat as your obligatory “honey, I’m home” call stays unanswered. You smile to yourself – you’d expected that; it means that your boyfriend is still so focused on creating music, he forgets the world around him. That is also the main reason why he got you a key to his flat – more than once had you been standing in front of the door, waiting for him to open it for you, and he simply hadn’t heard the doorbell, lost as he was in his creative process.

You’re still in your work clothes – a black dress (that might have screamed “overdressed!” to some people, but you are aware that being overdressed is a concept created by people who don’t want women to feel beautiful every day), stockings and bright red lipstick – as you make your way through the hallway with the sashimi you’ve picked up at Chan’s favourite place to treat him for dinner.

You knock on his studio door, but the gesture is again futile – through the glass door, you can see that he’s wearing massive headphones and can’t hear anything that’s not blasted through those. You take a moment to watch him – he is clad simply in a black oversized shirt, his hair a dark mess as if he’d dragged his hands through it a hundred times today while looking for words and melodies to match in ways that you find to be positively magical. Elbows on his desk, his gaze is turned towards the ceiling as he vibes with the music, nodding to the beat, critically analysing something he has created. It’s so incredibly attractive, the way he is so focused on and passionate about his work, your heart is full just looking at him.

The song seems to end because Chan looks down and catches your eye. He gives a little start – after all, he thought he was alone in his flat until a few seconds ago – and then a glowing smile takes over his face. He waves to you in an almost childlike gesture, and you mirror his smile as you enter the studio. Chan pulls the headphones off, letting them rest around his neck before putting them on the desk. “Hey, baby girl,” he greets you happily, rolling back in his swivel chair and patting his thighs. “Come here!”

You oblige, sitting in his lap, your legs dangling over one of the armrests as your arms come to rest on his broad shoulders. You lean in to kiss him, and though you mean it only to be a peck, your kiss lasts a little longer and feels a little more heated than your average welcome back kiss. “Hi,” you whisper, smiling, as you pull back eventually.

Chan’s eyes are fixed on your red lips, but eventually stray as they take in your dress. “You look beautiful,” he pronounces, his hand sliding down the skirt of your dress and coming to rest on your knee. “Did you have a good day?”

You nod emphatically, your curls bouncing as if supporting your claim as you recount your successful day at the publishing company where you work. “The presentation went very well. The boss was ecstatic and said I’ll get to manage more of the marketing campaigns since I’m doing such a good job.” You nod to the takeout bags. “I got us some sashimi to celebrate.”

Chan’s face, which had lit up at the news, now takes on an even more enthusiastic expression. “I’m so proud of you, baby, those are wonderful news! I’m so glad your boss can see how dedicated, hardworking, and talented you are! And I’m happy I get to celebrate with you. Thanks for bringing dinner.” He nuzzles into your neck, and you giggle, feeling giddy at his euphoria.

“Thanks for being such a hype boy, babe. And how was your day? How is the new album coming along?” You glance at the computer, where Chan has obviously been busy mixing a sound file. Chan shrugs. “Ah, you knaur.” He’s trying to sound non-committal, but you know that he cares deeply. “I’m trying to write a new unit song. Hyunjin is in it, so it needs to be racy.” He winks at you. “Another hoe anthem, you mean?” Your boyfriend bursts out laughing. “Something like that. Do you want to hear it?” “Sure!” You always love listening to early versions of songs – it is intriguing to watch Chan decide what to keep and what to cut, what to put on demos – and then listen to the final product as it is released. The process is fascinating, and you love being a part of it, even if you’re only a spectator.

Chan reaches around you, and you turn to face the computer, leaning back against his broad chest. His left hand slips around your waist, securing him against you as he starts the song. Immediately you know why this song is meant for Hyunjin; it is a dark-sounding RnB track that seems to continue the tradition laid down in “Red Lights” and “Taste”. There is an almost hypnotic organ melody that reminds you of church, but in a distinctly unholy way as it is paired with lyrics such as “I know that we shouldn’t, but I want to”. Chan’s voice on the demo carries the song without difficulties, and it’s positively captivating; breathy whispers and slight vocal fries add to the sexy tone of the song.

You feel the mood in the room shift, anticipation making room for arousal. You shiver in Chan’s arms listening to it, and you feel your boyfriend shift beneath you before he presses a kiss to your neck. “Do you like it?” he breathes into your ear, and the air against your neck tickles you in a decidedly not innocent way.

You nod, releasing a breath you don’t know you’ve been holding. “It’s definitely racy,” you agree, your breath hitching as Chan continues to kiss your neck while the song moves into the second verse. You can feel him smile against your skin.

“It’s almost as if hearing my voice singing it is doing something to you, baby girl. It must be like me getting dirty thoughts when you wear lipstick like that,” he almost purrs, gently biting your earlobe as his right hand finds your breast, teasing it through the cloth. A tiny gasp escapes you, and even though the music is still playing, it doesn’t slip Chan’s attention. “God,” he almost growls. “Your moans would sound so good on this track.”

That one sentence causes you to groan again, and Chan’s hand slips from your waist downwards, under your dress and directly into your panties. He gasps at the wetness he finds there and starts stroking you softly, maddeningly, but not in any way that could actually do something for you except tease you further. “Does it turn you on that much, baby girl? Hearing me sing a naughty song, knowing I wrote it thinking about your body? Do you like the idea of me recording your moans, putting them on the track, having the fans wonder who got so horny just listening to the demo version? You’re such a little slut, baby.”

At the word slut, he pushes a finger into your pussy, and this time, your moan is anything but quiet as you throw your head back. The song comes to a close, ending, just as it started, with the organ melody, and the only thing you can hear is Chan’s finger sliding into you and the two of you breathing heavily.

“So,” he drawls, almost sounding bored but of course he’s anything but as his thumb comes to circle your clit. “What do you say?” You meet his eyes as he glances down on your face, still hypnotized by your lipstick. “You know,” you rasp. “Your song is so hot I wish I could fuck it, but I can’t. So I will fuck you instead.” You watch as Chan’s pupils dilate, and the growl that escapes his throat as he claims your lips is almost feral. Well, you know what you do to him, and you have him exactly where you want him.

“Turn on the mic,” you breathe as you pull his hands off you. In a quick gesture, you grab the hem of your dress and discard it onto the floor, standing in front of him in just your stockings and black underwear, lasciviously leaning against the desk. “Let’s see how good these moans sound.”

He seems to contemplate your words for a few seconds before he takes a step closer and, his eyes never leaving yours, leans forward to push a few keys on his keyboard. This right there, this silence before the storm, this uninterrupted eye contact, might be one of the hottest moments you’ve experienced in a long time.

Chan is on you in a second, hoisting you up onto the desk as he kisses you deeply. Your hands grab for the hem of his t-shirt, greedily pulling it off to feel more of his skin. Chan’s meanwhile busy opening your bra, and in his impatience, he has to fumble for a bit to get it off you.

“Eager?” you tease against his lips before biting down, eliciting a groan from him. “You have no idea, baby girl,” he admits as he finally gets the offending garment off. He lets it carelessly fall to the floor, already focused on nothing else but your naked breasts resting against the palms of his hands. He kisses you deeply as he strokes your stiff nipples, his erection pushing against your scantily clothed pussy as he stands between your spread legs, trying to still be closer to you than he already is.

You cross your ankles behind him, helping him in his endeavour, and you both gasp as he grinds against you. “Off, off, off,” you breathe, gesturing to both his sweatpants and your underwear. Chan smirks. “Who’s eager now?” he asks, nipping at your collarbone. You roll your eyes playfully. “Who has written a song about fucking me?” He seems to consider that for a second. “Fair point. Move your hips for me, will you, baby girl?”

You help him pull your panties off and take the liberty of pulling down his sweatpants and underwear in one go, letting his girthy cock spring free. Chan appreciates the view for a second, seeing as you’re only wearing stockings now. “You’re the most attractive woman I’ve ever seen,” he declares in a raspy voice, and it only adds to your need. You make to touch him, but Chan easily catches your wrist and pins it to the desk with his hand. You actually whine at that. “Please, don’t tease me,” you beg, wanting nothing more than to feel his length stretching you out deliciously.

Chan’s smile is wolfish. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get what you want.” And before you can protest any more, he lets go of your hand, pulls you to the edge of the desk and guides his cock into your pussy. Your gasps mix with his broken moans as he slowly pushes in. Chan pauses, but only for a moment – both of you are far too turned on to take this slow, and even though the height of the desk isn’t perfect, the newness of the location adds a level of spice to the encounter.

He starts thrusting into you, fast, hard, causing the desk to shake beneath you. You scramble to push the keyboard to the side, falling back onto your elbows as Chan’s punishing pace throws you off balance. You stare up at him: his hair sticking to his forehead, a slight sheen of sweat glistening on his neck, the muscles in his arms playing as he holds onto your hips with a ferocity that might result in bruises. You give yourself over to your sensations: the cold desk below you, the sound of skin slapping against skin, Chan’s steady groans at the pleasure you give him, his big cock positively railing your wet cunt.

You grab onto him, pulling yourself back up and clinging to his broad shoulders, wanting to be even closer to him, feel his breath on your skin. “You feel so good,” you moan into his neck, biting his shoulder lightly. His retaliation comes in form of a thrust so powerful that it punches a loud groan out of you.

“Fuck, baby girl, you’re so hot, making me take you in my studio,” he gasps as he pushes into you again and again, relentlessly. “You’ll sound so good on this song, and it’ll be our little secret, but at the same time everyone will know. Everyone will know that only I can fuck you so well, make you make the hottest little noises, make you fall apart on my cock.” He slips a hand between you and starts stroking you to make sure the falling apart can actually happen, but he knows your body well enough to have you panting and at the edge of your orgasm within minutes.

“You’re such a good girl, making the most beautiful noises. Tell me, baby, who’s making you feel good? Say it. I want to hear it.” Pushing against him, trying to get closer to the delicious friction, you gasp, “You, Chan, only you can make me feel like this!”

You can feel Chan’s concentration slipping, his thrusts becoming sloppier, but he seems determined to make you come first, so he redoubles his efforts stroking you, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, how you’re a good little slut for him, taking him so well, how you’re made for this, made for him, how no other pussy could ever feel this good.

“Come on, baby girl, be good and moan for me and Hyunjin.” For some reason, that and a well-timed thrust does it, and you come on Chan’s cock with a loud, drawn-out groan, your pussy spasming wildly around him so he follows you over the edge mere seconds later. He crushes his lips to yours once more, and you make out as he spills into you, and continue to do so as you both slowly come off your highs.

A few moments later, you break the kiss to lean against his shoulder, still enclosed in his embrace. “That was a really nice entrée,” you declare, and Chan chuckles. He is quiet for a few seconds. “Are we gonna pretend you didn’t come the second I mentioned Hyunjin’s name?” You know he is teasing you, so you decide to go along. “Well, maybe you should invite him over some time?” Slowly, gently, you push against him so can slide out of you. You can feel a dribble of come making its way out of you and onto Chan’s desk, but that looks like a him-problem.

Chan clutches his chest in mock-terror. “Am I not enough for you?” You shake your head. “Oh baby, you’re sometimes more than I can cope with,” you say, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as you grab your underwear. “But in a good way. The best, really.” Chan slides an arm around you, stabilising you as you slip on your panties. “I’ll take it as a compliment, then.” He glances at the takeout bags. “Dinner?”

You nod. “Have you turned off the mic?” Your boyfriend turns around to check the equipment. He curses. “Oh naur, it seems like it was off the whole time!” He catches your eye as you slip on his t-shirt, and there is a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Guess we’ll have to do this again soon…”

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