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#the timing coming off of this break couldn’t have been worse
sungiejpg · 1 day
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WHY ME?; na jaemin [smau]
17. the worst nightmare + written (after each 3 photos!)
𓂃⊹pairing: jaemin x f!reader
𓂃⊹tags: college au, enemies to lovers, smau, humour, reversed trope
𓂃⊹synopsis: he is known as the nicest guy on the faculty who gets along with everyone, well…maybe not everyone
𓂃⊹warnings: suggestive messages/topics
ignore how bad the narration might be 😭 I didn’t have enough time.
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“So, Jaemin,” Y/n and Jisung’s mother called him while he was finishing preparing the table with Jisung’s help, he already had a bad feeling regarding the conversation. “Did you see that my big baby finally got a boyfriend?” She said smiling, Jaemin already knew their mother always wanted Y/n to get into a relationship. Bingo.
“Oh, they are not dating,” Jaemin clarified while trying not to sound pissed off about the topic. Although, why would he get pissed off, it’s not like he cares.
“Not yet,” their mother replied, still smiling. Jaemin loved that woman, she always treated him like a son, but this exact day he wasn’t that fond of her.
“Mom! Please don’t say that when Y/n comes,” Jisung jumped in the conversation trying to shush his own mother, something that made Jaemin appreciate him even more.
“I know I know”, she repeated, “but wouldn’t that be cute?” she asked while looking at Jaemin and completely ignoring her own son, who was pretending to vomit.
“Haechan is not cute,” Jaemin replied, trying to maintain his composure. But again, he doesn’t care if they date, does he?
“Aw, our Jaeminnie,” she screamed. “Always taking care of my kids,” their mom said while pinching his cheeks. He just smiled awkwardly.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom then,” Jaemin said, exiting the room as a way to end the conversation and forget about it forever if possible.
No later than 4 mins you came, not without praying internally Jisung wasn’t already dead because of a spider or something, since you took longer than intended.
“Mom?” you asked when you saw your mother smiling standing in your kitchen and a kinda scared Jisung next to her. Well, not more than yourself, you could already tell what the topic of the night was going to be. “What are you doing here?”
“Aw my baby! I missed you so much” she screamed, running to hug you, which you reciprocated. “I came here since it’s been long since I last saw you and I wanted to have dinner with my two babies”.
“And?” You asked, already sensing what she was going to say.
“and I also invited someone special for dinner too,” she finally said after breaking the hug, Jisung smiling awkwardly, or scared, next to her. Kill me now, you thought, knowing it was going to be your biggest nightmare these days.
“Mom, don’t tell my is Jaemin, please.” Although you could already tell it was going to be him.
“He is already here, he went to the bathroom,” Jisung replied instead, still maintaining a nervous smile, which made you even more nervous.
“But I meant someone special for you,” your mom answered. Oh yeah, exactly, why would Jaemin be special to you. Wait, you thought, no way.
“Don’t tell me is…” But you weren’t able to finish your sentence since your doorbell rang, showing your biggest nightmare, fuckass Lee Haechan. Jisung is so dead, you thought.
“Hi family!” Haechan greeted everyone, not without smirking when he saw your face. And if things couldn’t get worse, it was at that moment when Jaemin came back from the bathroom and looked confused at you two. Jisung is so so so so dead.
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“Well,” you said while putting your phone down after your mother and jisung left, not without her pinching Jaemin’s cheeks and saying he should go see her soon. You still don’t know how that even happened, since when was he that close?
“It’s been long since we last talked properly, only both of us,” Jaemin said, trying to make the situation less awkward. Who would have told you two months ago that you would be awkward with Jaemin, not because you hated him, but because you wanted him…
“I don’t think this counts,” definitely not awkward at all. Both of you were still in the corridor next to the door.
“So Haechan and you, huh?” he said while getting a bit closer to you, sounding a bit pissed off. Why would he? Maybe because Haechan was his friend?
“Not you too, I would rather light myself on fire than date him” quite literally. You even thought about doing it while your mom was trying to set both of you up during the dinner. Also poor Jisung, who had to listen to all of that.
“Hey, he’s still my friend,” Jaemin joked while smirking and still getting closer to you. If he kept doing that you would jump on him and bite his head off, out of excitement, not hatred. “Is he that bad?”
“Well, he isn’t I guess” you sincerely replied, “but I don’t like him, romantically I mean.” That coming off way more awkward than you intended since Jaemin was way closer than before.
“Romantically? So,” he said still getting closer, he smelled like vanilla, of course he did. “So do you like someone?”
“Maybe?”
One second he is smirking and the next second his tongue is tangled with yours, making your heart rate increase. Maybe this is where you die. After what felt like an eternity, he pulling back from the kiss and looking at you confused, as if he wasn’t the one initiating it. However, both of you heard the sound of keys.
“Well, bye,” he blurted out as soon as he heard Jisung out of the flat, opening the door.
“What do you mean by well bye?” You screamed, but he already left half running, leaving Jisung and you confused. What the fuck just happened.
“What’s going on? He didn’t even take his jacket with him,” Jisung mumbled, but you didn’t listen to that, too busy trying to grasp the situation.
𓂃before | 𓂃next
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nanaminokanojo · 19 hours
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BAD NEWS (part 58)
-just when you thought you were over your humongous crush on your older brother’s best friend, geto suguru, you couldn’t have been more dead wrong, except satoru doesn’t like suguru for you because he knows his kind all too well: a huge ass playboy who breaks hearts like he changes socks. but you think, MAYBE you’ll be the exception…maybe not.
CHARACTERS: drummer!geto suguru x you/afab reader | gojo satoru | various jjk characters
GENRE: full-length smau + prose | band au | college au | stupid pining | aged-up characters | friends to lovers (?) | smut
TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol, drugs | mentions of cheating, promiscuity, mild dubcon, etc. | god-awful pet names | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises
MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX
<<prev part 58 next>>
A/N: Smutty things ahead, be warned. Panels 3 to 10 at the end. 😊
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Red-bottoms in hand, you slung one arm over Mai's shoulder, both of you dissolving into giggles when you started dancing barefoot on the stone steps that led to your doorstep while her twin looked on in abject annoyance. It was mostly about Mai who insisted on coming out of the car to walk you to the door and you basically encouraging it. She didn't know what was worse, this or when you guys jumped into a loud discussion about your favorite pro footballers earlier during the ride.
"What's the code to the door, Y/N?" Maki asked you as she hoisted Mai over to her other side to split the two of you up.
"Code? Code..." You swayed dangerously towards the side of the elevated step by the door, and she was only able to pull you in time before you fell on the rose bushes. You laughed at how she rolled her eyes before stumbling towards the door, almost hitting your head against the hard wood. Still, you repeated the same word over and over again, thinking long and hard about what to punch on the glowing blue buttons.
"Well?"
"Ah!" you responded, raising your index finger up. "Toru...it's..." You swallowed hard, the action coming with a little hiccup that sent Mai into another round of giggles, also triggering you.
"His birthday?" Maki supplied for you and you nodded vigorously, about to raise your arms but you hit your shoe against the door, gasping as you checked for scuffs as if you could see straight.
Shaking her head, she punched the numbers into the keypad, successfully opening it. "Get inside. I'll help you to your room."
You waved your hands at her. "No, no...'m fine, Captain." You stepped in rather unsteadily.
"You sure?"
Again, you snickered at the way her brow arched but nodded nonetheless, doing a little dance as you said goodbye to Mai whom Makit dragged away to the car just as you were closing the door.
"Toru?" you called, but got no answer, swaying towards the stairs and haphazardly holding onto the banister whilst you still held onto your heels, careful not to drop them. One wobbly step at a time, you pulled your weight up, snickering when you nearly tripped. You did that halfway up and made it the rest of the way crawling on all fours.
You blindly made your way to the second room from the stairs, slowly and quietly pushing the door, or at least as quietly as you can in your drunken state. It's more like you pushed your way in, hand faltering several times on the knob. When you finally stumbled in, it was dark. You didn’t turn on the lights, you were not confident you can find the switch anyway, so you just started stripping your clothes off until you were just in the tiny, form-fitting dress you wore to the club, your heels dropping with loud thuds on the laminate floors.
You still had the mind to think about washing the makeup off of your face, marching towards the wall you knew your dresser was at, but you didn't see it there.
"Huh," you muttered under your breath, the effort you exerted trying to walk without falling making your head spin even more. There was no way you were making it anywhere else, so you opted for the bed which was closer, and finally fell into it.
You could have sworn you heard someone groan somewhere near you, but you couldn’t care less, giggling when you felt an irregular lump on where you had fallen. You nearly slipped off the bed, but somehow, you didn't, a warm, snug feeling engulfing you as you lay face down, comfortable on the spot you've chosen. You clung to that feeling of sleep starting to devour you, afraid that if you opened your eyes, your world would start spinning again so you screwed your eyes shut, and soon, you were dead to the world with nothing but the feeling of warm hands soothing your back.
Wait...hands?
The idea seemed ridiculous to you. You kept your eyes closed, thinking it was just the alcohol and that you were probably just imagining things. Very specific ones involving a man with beautiful, long, ebony hair and the way he smelled – smoky wind in a pine forest with hints of something akin to limes and sandalwood – along with that familiar warmth that reminded you of home and everything else familiar to you.
You were still too dizzy, but not without any coherent thoughts as you seemed to lack just moments ago. How long you've been trying to get sleep in the suddenly uncomfortable position you were in, you didn't know. But you were slowly realizing that something was amiss, making your heart thud heavily in your chest. You, however, couldn't pinpoint just what it was in your state of inebriation.
Just then, you felt the "bed" you were laying on shift, and you could have sworn you felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around your shoulder and waist, gently easing you to your back.
"Kitten?" came those deep mellow notes you'd know anywhere, and something seemed to click in your brain, the dress you were wearing suddenly feeling too tight as heat flared up all over your body. Ironically, you felt like shivering.
In the seconds that followed, the cogs in your brain moved and you realized you made a bed out of someone, and when you finally came to full awareness and opened your eyes, you were confronted by the face of your older brother's best friend, mere centimeters from yours, slowly breaking into that lopsided smile, faint dimples making themselves known as he looked down at you sleepily. The action enhanced his features even in the semi-darkness, hot-wiring your already addled brain.
You wanted to bolt right out of bed, but his steady amber gaze held you there, not to mention the alcohol in your system. “Su...suguru?” You chuckled, torn between thinking your seeing the real thing or some specter of your fantasies. But at that point, who cares?
You tilted your head to the side, flashing him a sultry smile even as his brows furrowed together. "Whatchu doin' here, sexy?" you slurred.
“I slept over,” he answered, grinning cheekily at you as he got rid of some stray hairs on your cheek, his cold fingers brushing over your skin. You inched towards his touch, humming in satisfaction. “What are you doing here, kitten?”
You did a little scoff or something close to it. “This is my room.”
“No, sweetheart, this is the guest room.” His voice sounded so velvety, making you shiver visibly.
“Well shit…” You chuckled as you closed your eyes, willing the nausea away. “Give me a sec.”
You felt Suguru move closer to you, your foreheads touching as he wrapped his arms tighter around you as he laid back down, guiding you to lie on your side. “I don’t mind.”
“Funnily enough, I don’t either.” You looked at him unsteadily, seemingly unable to focus as you blinked slowly, trying to make sense of what you were currently seeing. Without thinking, you placed a hand on his cheek, running the pad of your thumb over his skin. And then you broke into a smile. "I can never seem to reach you..."
Suguru placed a hand over yours. "What do you mean? I've always been here," he whispered back. "You'll always have me, kitten. You know that."
You shook your head. "No..."
"No?"
"Not..." You breathed in, moving your fingers over the line of his nose, trying to be gentle, afraid that he will disappear. But when he didn't, you dared to touch his cupid's bow, tracing along it as you slowly released your breath a little at a time. "Not like this."
Suguru looked at you in confusion now."Not like what, hm?" At that, he started nuzzling you on the cheek until your lips were mere millimeters away. "Care to explain that?"
"Like this."
"Mhmm?" He brushed his nose against yours.
"This close..."
This can't be real, you thought, your heart sinking in your chest. In the slowness of your mind, you suddenly had so many things making themselves evident. You hated how even in your drunken moments, it was only Geto Suguru that you could think off; how your longing was conjuring images in your head so damn real, it made your yearning even stronger. You've wanted him for so long that your brain is making things up.
You sat up, easing his arms off you gently, but then, the look of disappointment on his face made you stop.
"Y/N, what's wrong?"
"This whole thing – this...y-you, here, right now. This isn't right – You're not even real, why am I talking to you?"
He, too, sat up, his face inching closer towards you as if daring you to move farther from him, but you didn’t. "I am real, Y/N. I am in front of you."
You chuckled as you felt your resolve faltering, submitting to your daydreams and imagination, making you lose yourself enough to believe what this version of Suguru was telling you.
“I’m still drunk, right?”
Suguru snickered, nodding. “Pretty much.”
You leaned closer. “Good. At least I have an excuse.”
"Excuse for?"
Instead of an answer, you cupped his face as you rose to your knees, crashing your lips to his slightly parted ones, hoping and praying to every higher power that this was real, and not just happening inside your head.
**
How could you tell him he wasn't real? You weren't real. None of this was.
It's not real that you just strolled into the guest room Suguru happened to be in, drunk to your toes. It's not real that you just decided to make a bed out of him. It's not real, everything that you said to him. It's not –
Oh. But this felt real – the feeling of your skin against his, warm and flushed and so smooth under his calloused palms; your presence as you weighed down on him, hands firm at the sides of his head as you coveted him; the feel and taste of your plush lips, a cocktail of your lip gloss, alcohol and whatever you were made of, pressed against his, the air you were breathing one and the same.
This was real. It's happening. And he wanted it. Oh, how much he had longed for it...waited for it. Before he knew it, he was opening his mouth, fingers delving into your hair to hold you in place, returning every adamant movement of your lips, giving it back with his. It's been over a year since you left him with the taste of you lingering at the back of his mind and the tip of his tongue, thinking he will never have the pleasure of ever knowing it again. And yet there you were again, in his arms, him locked in yours, giving him what he's always wanted and filling that void that he tried so hard to fill when you went away without acknowledging matters between you.
"Suguru," you spoke against his mouth, almost begging, trapping him in a bewitching spell from which he never wanted to snap out of as if you were calling his very soul. He never thought his name ever sounded so good coming out of someone else's mouth, and yet you seemed to be giving it a whole new meaning.
Entranced and enchanted, he unconsciously took the initiative, recapturing your lips as he pulled you even closer to him. A nagging voice at the back of his head told him to stop, but it went unheard when you slid your tongue between his lips, the sound of your moaned out triumph rendering what's left of his capacity to reason useless. You took your fill of him, giggling when you found that piece of silver embedded on his tongue, reaching for it with yours.
With a whine, you anchored yourself on his shoulder, kneeling astride his lap and leveraging the tangle of sheets below you to push him backwards until he was lying against the pillows. You followed after him, in hot pursuit of his lips which momentarily detached from yours, eyes glazed and wild as you laughed quietly, the sound almost sounding like a purr.
Getting a bit of clarity, Suguru pushed himself up, steadying you by the waist to stop you from going even further. "Kitten," he shook his head, "Y/N, you're drunk – mmmff –!"
Huge mistake as you were having none of it, your lips immediately finding his like a homing missile that's got its target locked. And if that didn't make a hot mess out of him, you deliberately ground your hips against his, the fabric of his sweats and your underwear providing much of the friction both of you yearned for yet not enough. You gasped as the apex of your thighs rubbed precisely over his hardening length, but it didn't even take you a second to do it again, unable to get enough.
"Kitten, don't – holy shit, baby..."
"Want you," you mumbled against his lips as you continued to grind against him, your hand reaching underneath you as you grabbed fistfuls of his gray sweats, clawing at the fabric and along the skin of his iliac furrow, making him hiss as you managed to pull it off of him. He held onto your wrist in an attempt to stop you again, but to no avail.
Suguru knew you had a one-track mind, and like Satoru, if you wanted something, come hell or high water, you will get it. The means didn't matter. You were both such brats growing up that he knew as much. And it seems it didn't matter what state of mind you were in either. You sought and you took without thinking twice, the same way you saw your goals on the field and executed them. This time he was the field, and you were going to conquer him regardless.
You bent down, kissing him senseless again, your hand firm on his nape while the other one guided his hand under your dress. You smirked into the kiss, nipping at his lower lip before letting go and saying, "Take it off."
"A-are you –"
"Yes."
You didn't have to tell him twice. In the next second, your pesky underwear was out of the way and your bare, wetness was pressed down midway his cock, pinning it flat against his stomach. Your grip on his shirt was tight as you started to rock back and forth over his length, setting your rhythm.
Again, as much as he thought it wasn't really happening, that his mind was probably trapped in a perpetual oasis of dreams that were solely made of you, Suguru was much too awake to deny it, all his nerves firing within him as the realization dawned that you were there. Crazy drunk. On top of him. Chasing your pleasure and taking you with him.
His hands were all over you, not knowing where to touch until he finally found purchase on your ass, kneading your flesh as he directed your movements closer to his tip until it was repeatedly catching into your slick folds while also simultaneously stimulating your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your snagged breaths and airy moans made him want to just topple you into the bed and take over you, but Suguru kept his restraint, merely satisfying himself with the view of you dominating him, your lips parted as you threw your head back in pleasure.
This was about you, and he wouldn't have it any other way. If you wanted him, you can have him, use him to your heart's content even if it meant you will forget when you wake up.
Do you even realize what you were doing? He wondered at that, feeling a twinge on his chest at the thought that you'll slip from his grasp again when daylight comes.
No, he thought. Not this time.
He felt your movements grow erratic, your nails scratching at the skin of his chiseled abdomen.
"Fuck, baby, right there," he encouraged you, helping your movements as you evidently grew tired chasing your high. His fingers will bruise your hips with how tight he was gripping you, intensifying the heat between where you were touching until you were spasming and letting out high-pitched moans, your release fueling your movements as it dripped onto him.
"Sugu...ru..." you called his name, mostly broken parts of it as he let you ride your high, eventually leading to his own undoing.
"K-kitten – fuck!" he let out along with his stuttering breaths when he, too, came hard, staining his stomach and the inner side of your thighs.
He breathed deeply, sweat matting his skin. He let out a quiet chuckle as he watched you listing towards the side, all spent and succumbing to the exhaustion, coupled with the alcohol still in your system.
Before you could fall, Suguru got up, gently laying you down on the bed before removing his shirt and silently making his way to the bathroom, suddenly reminded that Satoru was just at the end of the hallway.
He's fucked, he knew that, but he couldn't help but smile to himself as he watched you squirm and groan in your sleep while he cleaned you up and changed your clothes, patiently removing your makeup even when you swatted at his hands irritably.
After all that, he carried you back to your room, making sure you were comfortable, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead, the act seemingly chaste and out of place after all that you two have done.
He sighed, much too awake to get back to sleep, his mind on the consequences of the night's events, but he couldn't care less, not even at the thought that Satoru might hate him.
Because Geto Suguru may be damned to the deepest pits of hell, but as long as he has you, he'll gladly suffer in the flames for it.
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© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240605]
PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.
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malikat24601 · 1 day
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Errrbody out there with their cool title art and brilliant ideas for the BB... and then there's me <insert hehehe raccoon gif here> Presenting Team 043 with @ghostdeb bringing you: Glory Days A Steddie Alpha/Baseball/Omega fic for the Steddie Big Bang 24! Excerpt: The sun was high in the sky, blindingly bright, and Eddie shielded his eyes as he wandered through the stands, looking for his seat. Nancy’s expectations of him rang loud and clear in the excellent spot she had reserved for him, field level near the dugout, overlooking home plate. Money wasted, he thought saltily to himself, since he wouldn’t be able to see anything past the fucking glare. 
There was a gift bag waiting for him, a welcome package from the team — a bottle of water, a box of honest-to-god Cracker Jack, a little baseball bat keychain with Harrington’s jersey number on it, and a cap with the team logo embroidered across the center in bright reds and golds — the Indiana Mindflayers. Eddie pouted to himself, hemmed and hawed until finally, with a loud groan, he pulled the cap on over his frizzy curls and… damn. Even he had to admit that it brought instant relief to his eyes, shading them and bringing the field into perfect clarity. He sniffed, the smell of the turf bright and green in his nose. I’ll have to start doubling up on the Claritin, he thought, determined not to enjoy it one bit. 
Eddie pulled out his notepad and shuffled through his notes. Steve Harrington was the second baseman; smart, fast, with good reflexes and running speed. By all accounts, he was the favorite to break the base-stealing record last set in 1982, garnering respect for the up-and-coming new team. He was a powerful hitter, an even better baseman, a fan favorite, and, as far as Eddie could tell, a squeaky-clean, all-American golden boy. 
And while Eddie had done the requisite reading on the sport, more of his time had been spent delving into the lore that had built up around the man. The only son of a notorious business mogul, Steve Harrington had led a charmed life. Trust fund baby, sports phenom, the pinnacle of what a good son and alpha should be — right up until he had defied expectations and joined an unknown, fledgling team and been cut off by his family. 
Lucky for him, Steve was handsome, charming, and known almost as well for his prowess off the field as he was on it. He was never seen with the same woman more than twice, never tied down, never mated. Rumors swirled that he had almost been married once, but had his heart broken by some mysterious figure, the identity of whom he protected at all costs. Other than that, it would appear that all there was to know about Steve Harrington was how he played that day and who the new celebrity on his arm was that week. How boring, Eddie couldn’t think of anything worse.
Still, he was a reporter, and there was a lot of buzz around the guy. If there was a story there, he would find it, and then he would go back to Indy and beg on hands and knees for his old job back.
Eddie sat through the first half of the inning before the Mindflayers were up to bat. He waited with as much enthusiasm as he could muster to get his eyes on the man himself. Finally, the familiar sound of Andre 3000 started up, Harrington’s song of choice to play him in, as he jogged out onto the batting mound. 
Don’t want to meet your daddy, just want you in my caddy Don’t want to meet your momma, just want to make you come-a
Eddie rolled his eyes. A little on the nose, he thought, we get it, you’re a playboy who knots ‘em and walks ‘em. And I heard you were actually smooth…
Steve Harrington came up to bat with the bases loaded. It wouldn’t have been hard for anyone to look impressive after the lackluster performance of Tommy Hagan before him, but Steve sauntered out to home plate swinging his bat with the kind of easy confidence that made you just know he was about to do something special. His very first swing connected with the ball with a satisfying crack, sending it sailing deep into the stands.
Steve tossed his bat and ran, a home run. The crowd roared, jumping to their feet; the energy was infectious, and look, Eddie had eyes, he wasn’t immune to those tight little pants, or the sight of dirt on his knees as Steve pulled himself up with a bright, crooked grin and a little wave. The man was hot, he could admit it.
A faint scent of something wafted up from the field, spicy sweet and undeniable, calling to him so strongly that Eddie felt lightheaded. But almost as soon as he had locked onto it, it was gone; the wind changed and with it came the smell of incoming rain. He sank back in his seat, a little worse for wear, looking dubiously up at the sky and the gray clouds rolling in. A shiver ran through him and Eddie was forced to buy a hoodie to go with his new cap as light sprinkles fell over the stadium. He charged that shit on the company card.
The game played on, dauntless of the rain, and Eddie was cold, wet, way too sober, and bored. He tried to get into it, but catching the Cracker Jack he was tossing into the air with his mouth was just so much more interesting. 
After an eternity, finally they were in the last inning, and just as he was silently thanking the gods of sportsball that he’d soon be released from his purgatory, a palpable energy began to grow all around him. People were sitting up, watching a little closer. Eddie sat up, too, unceremoniously dropping the Cracker Jack to the ground.
The field was still wet from the earlier rain, grass glistening under the lights that had come up as the sun went down. It was the bottom of the 9th, the Mindflayers were down by one, and Steve was up to bat again. 
The first pitch was thrown wildly out of the strike zone, a ball. Steve let slip a flash of annoyance, which made Eddie smile to himself. Careful, big boy, that halo is slipping. On his second swing, he hit a double and made it to second base.
Then, before the next batter for the Mindflayers could take his place, the opposing team made a switch, bringing Jason Carver onto the field, their notoriously lethal left-handed pitcher. Steve seemed keenly interested in the goings on, so much so that Eddie found himself watching him more so than the player at bat. 
“Only one out left,” muttered the man sitting behind Eddie, so he wrote it down in his notepad. He could look up the exact rules of the game again later, after he had dried off, warmed up, and eaten something other than stale, too-sweet popcorn.
Lucas Sinclair stepped up to the plate, and while he and Carver sized each other up, Steve took the opportunity to run, racing to steal third base. The crowd cheered and Carver cursed, shouting something and… did Steve wink at him? Carver cursed again, but it didn’t matter, Steve was already safe. Sinclair was laughing; if he could get a good play, Steve would have a chance to run for home, tying the game. Carver spit and turned back to the plate, winding up. 
Sinclair was ready, but Carver’s signature fastball got past him. Eddie’s eyes were still on Harrington, who looked tense and twitchy as he and Sinclair made eye contact across the diamond. Carver smirked; another deadly pitch, another strike. Behind Carver’s shoulder, Steve had crouched low, watching things play out intently. The final swing connected, ball sent flying deep into the outfield and Steve ran. The crowd was on their feet, screaming as Steve slid home, his hat coming off and hair flying. He’d tied the game, standing up with a grin, clay caked down the front of his uniform as he shouted at Sinclair to run. The opposing team’s outfield threw the ball, but it went wide, missing their baseman. Sinclair kept running, past third, and when he touched home, he leapt onto Steve, the two of them laughing and shouting, because they’d done it. The Mindflayers had won by a single point in the final inning of the game.
Eddie found himself standing, too, his hands in the air and his jaw on the floor. He was absolutely helpless to the energy of the crowd. The team poured out onto the field, hoisting Steve and Lucas up onto their shoulders, and Steve threw his head back and laughed. Eddie laughed with him, couldn’t help it, overwhelmed by the magic of the moment. Somewhere on the breeze, he caught the smallest taste of that scent again, hot baked bread and spices, warmth and comfort, and then it was gone. When he looked back out to the field, Steve had disappeared into the dugout. That was Eddie’s cue to make his way down.
He wedged himself into the throng of reporters at the press conference, all trying to get the attention of Steve Harrington, who was clearly preoccupied with teasing his coach, renowned humorless hardass Jim Hopper, while managing to answer a slew of questions seemingly on autopilot without looking up once. “It’s all about teamwork, no one player wins the game,” rolled off his tongue, and then, “everything I learned, I learned from this man here,” as Hopper snorted gruffly. Eddie pushed through to the front and raised his voice. 
“That was a pretty neat trick you pulled there, but couldn’t you have done it sooner in the game so we could have had a bit more action in the middle bit? Or do they just trot you out at the very end to make it seem more interesting?”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the small space, save for a few awkward coughs as Harrington turned to stare directly at Eddie, his dark eyes narrowing. 
“Never seen this scrawny little guy before,” he quipped, leaning back lazily as though Eddie had bored him. “And who are you?” 
“Eddie Munson, with The P—”
“The Pace. I know you. You’re Wheeler’s new boy. Of course you are.” Steve said it like it left a bad taste in his mouth and Eddie gritted his teeth.
“If you could just answer the ques—”
“The reason, Mr. Munson,” Steve interrupted him again, “is that there’s more to the game than just hitting balls and running. Stealing bases requires thought, and it requires the right set of circumstances to pull it off. As soon as I realized they were bringing Carver out onto the field, I knew that I’d have a chance to take third, because as a left-handed pitcher, he’d have his back to me. It’s called game strategy. You may think I’m just a dumb jock, but I do actually have a brain. Next question.”
Eddie was dismissed, clearly. He frowned, staring down at his notepad. Strategy? You didn’t get to be the scariest dungeon master in Indy without knowing game strategy. Eddie twitched with annoyance.
He sulked through the rest of the questions, saying nothing, before making his way down to the locker rooms with the select few VIP reporters allowed in for the meet-n-greet. Eddie milled about, feeling every bit as uncomfortable as he had in high school gym, sweaty ball players shoving past him with towels thrown over their shoulders. Someone knocked into him from behind, and Eddie jumped aside, immediately apologizing.
It was Harrington, of course it was. Up close, Eddie could see that his brown eyes were more a warm hazel flecked with gold, downturned and sleepy-looking, but beautifully expressive. His lips were bowed and pink, far lovelier than a testosterone-ridden alpha male should possess, and cheeks kissed with tiny moles. He froze in place, apology dropping off, entirely unprepared for the reality of Steve. 
The man smirked at him, clearly amused. Steve reached forward and pinched the fabric of Eddie’s Mindflayers hoodie, rubbing it between his fingers. Then he ran his thumb along the bill of Eddie’s cap, almost teasingly. “Love the ‘fit,” he purred, in a wry, gravelly voice, and Eddie shivered. 
Steve was standing so close, sneering down at the gaping idiot that Eddie had become, and for a second he thought he caught that scent again, rising dough, nutmeg. His attention snapped elsewhere as he subconsciously lifted his nose to the air and sniffed. An omega was near, their scent curious and seeking, interested, sending a pulse of want all through him. Steve’s eyes shuttered off, and he looked uncomfortable, taking a step back and rubbing at his neck. Then, with an awkward smile that held none of the fire it possessed earlier, Steve whispered, “see ya around, Munson,” as he turned tail towards the showers, leaving Eddie staring after him. 
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ctimenefic · 2 days
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Became obsessed by the idea of Alex getting his grubby mitts on George's nudes, had a breakdown, bon appetit.
positive negatives Rated Explicit Fandom F1 RPF Pairing Alexander Albon/George Russell 4,963 words
Summary: George doesn’t regret that shoot, exactly.
He had for a long time. After the first high of seeing the rushes wore off; after overhearing a murmured warning in general casting, days too late; after he woke up at three am to reread the release he’d blithely signed without thinking, and spent the next four hours staring at the ceiling hoping to wake up. He’d regretted it then.
For years after, the memory of it could hit like an ice cube sliding down his spine. Always, of course, at the most inconvenient moments. When he was working, or networking, when he needed his wits about him, couldn’t afford to stutter over his words. They’d put him in white silk, or offer him wine, or he’d walk into a room with slow, warm jazz playing, and the whole excruciating mess of it all would come back. He’d learnt how to smile through it, then how not to blink at all. (rest of the first chunk below the cut)
And when the pictures had finally leaked – first onto some old-school subscription gay porn site, then everywhere else a day later – he’d put his lessons to work. Keep smiling. Don’t blink.
It had been a surprise to look back, a month later, when the worst was over and his clients and his billboards and his agent were all still there, with an extra 400,000 followers on Instagram to boot, and think Was that it? 
When he looks at the photographs now, it’s like that first time again, young and bloody-minded and startled to see he had a flesh-and-bone body under all those choking layers of denial. He looks good. He looks good at looking good, at ease with himself in a way that George-at-twenty-five knows he took years to relearn. And maybe the desire of the camera reads as lecherous now he can see the places where his youth shaved the fat from his hips, but George still remembers being that boy. He deserved, he thinks, to be wanted. 
Still, he doesn’t mean to tell Alex about them. Alex doesn’t really get modelling, or the difference between George’s shoot for Calvin Klein, plastered up and down the Tube, and the accidental softcore porn he shot at 19. It’s been a long time since their karting days, and George’s career has taken quite a while to bring him back into the orbit of rich men driving even more expensive cars for a living.
Also Alex is his boss, technically. Or his client. Alex is going to put him in some very stupid clothes with far too many pandas and cats and horses on them, and George is going to sell the fuck out of them. (It won’t be a set to add to his portfolio, but it’s the least he can do for an old friend whose smile is just as bright and broad as it was ten years ago.) George doesn’t have a normal job, but he knows it’s probably a tad unprofessional to bring up why “...gay” “...2018 shoot” and “...dick” never leave the top ten Google autocompletes for his name. 
But then he gets to the private members’ club in London where Alex is going to show him the final designs (and George is going to nod and smile like he’s never worn Versace) and Alex, already there waiting for him, looks tired. Worse than that – haggard.
“We can’t all be fucking supermodels, Georgie,” Alex retorts. It’s mild enough that George files away deliberately mixing up super-licence points and the other, better kind for a different, pettier occasion. Still, he slides his (prescriptionless, fashionable) glasses down his nose for a brief disappointed look. 
George still follows F1 – he has the app, keeps Alex in his fantasy team but puts the double boost on Verstappen every race with just a twinge of guilt – so he knows the run to summer break hasn’t been kind. No position higher than 15th. No points. 
He’s not seen Alex actually down about it before. He’s certainly never heard Alex talk about Red Bull, and the fiasco that happened there long before George met Lewis Hamilton at LFW and found himself waltzing back into a racing paddock. It presses at something tender in the depths of him, behind layers of poise and millimetre-perfect physical control. 
The iPad propped against the bar has gone dark, fashion long forgotten. George would sit through a hundred abominable fish-print shirts if Alex would laugh again. 
“Sometimes I feel like I fucked it right at the start, you know, and I’ll never get past it,” Alex tells his pint glass. He’d told George he was only allowed one, then looked pissed off and affectionate when George had held him to it. Like George didn’t understand a strict diet. “Do you ever- Nah. Course not.” 
He can’t stand that, the way Alex’s eyes glide up and down him, a smooth surface. And that tender part wants to crack him open from the inside, press itself against Alex’s bruised under-eyes. 
So George tells him about the shoot. The stifling heat of the studio. How the sheets had stiff spots that snagged against the hairs on his arms, and he hadn’t realised until later how they’d got that way. He’d been so thirsty, and so trusting that the water was shut off. The wine had been cheap and nasty and he’d not had the experience to know the difference.  
He hadn’t known he’d made a mistake until the photographer had messaged days later, said he wanted a follow up of George freshly fucked out and offered to do the honours. 
He tells it like it’s funny. It helps, he’s found, if he can make the jokes first. Alex laughs in the right places but nervously, like he’s not sure it’s allowed. 
“-So, yeah, I understand, a bit. In the end it’s probably got me more jobs than it’s lost me, but if you want a bright side, no one’s put your Red Bull season on a porn site. Well, none of the mainstream ones at least.”
“I try not to think about what the admins won’t tell me,” Alex responds darkly, but his eyes cut back to George’s face with a hint of guilt behind them. “Jesus, Georgie. I didn’t know it was like that.” He hesitates. “Should I stop making the jokes about your shirts falling off?”
George laughs properly at that, loud enough people at the nearby tables turn their heads. He feels their glances lingering. It’s a sixth sense by now. “Nah, it’s become a crucial part of the brand. But show me the horse one again?” 
This time, Alex smiles as he explains exactly why the ‘Horsey’ line is actually covered in cats. 
The collection is fundamentally ugly. There’s no getting round that. But at the shoot itself, the snapper Alex has hired, a teasing chap with an accent that meanders between Dundee and Penzance, doesn’t mind when George pulls faces at each change. The clothes feel good at least – well-constructed, made by a women’s collective in Thailand that George’s agent had checked aligned with his ethics clause. 
Alex isn’t there, off at a training camp. It doesn’t affect how George does his job – he’s a consummate professional – but, well. He’d been prepared to show off a little. He could’ve got away with fewer crunches that morning. 
Still, he persuades the photographer to take at least one shot for each shirt with a very technical definition of ‘wearing.’ Inside joke, he promises. 
It’s about a week later when he gets the email from Alex. Subject line: AA23 Pet Collection Edit. No body text. Attachment: GR_Photos.zip.
When he opens it up, he doesn’t blink. Just smiles. 
Read the rest on AO3 or, like, bully me to post it here.
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Text
This doesn't happen anymore but idk I spent so much time trying to find it in my papers that I have to toss it into the internet void
The moment Spruce raced past John’s gesture for a hug, Branch saw his confusion and hurt. JD glanced around, like he thought maybe he got the wrong troll - despite them being the only ones there - but then he saw Spruce go to Branch for a hug and ignore him. He could see JD’s heart break. 
JD loved hugs more than anyone really knew. He struggled  a little with too much at once - which Branch knew he loathed - but he tried not to let that stop him. 
Branch managed to jump back, sliding out of Spruce’s reach. “Whoa!” he just grinned. “Look at you! Someone’s got some crazy reflexes! Come on, let me give you a hug! I haven’t seen you in years!”
“And whose fault is that?” he asked, flatly. 
Spruce stumbled. “Branch…”
“I’m not here to fight. It’s not about me. I’m here to ask for your help.” 
“For what?”
“The perfect family harmony-”
Spruce rolled his eyes then turned to glare at JD who was busy checking out one of the pools, curiously. He tipped his toe in and that jumped back a little, like he felt or saw something he wasn’t expecting. Spruce was glaring. “Did he put you up to this? He really needs to let it go.” 
“JD has nothing to do with it-” 
“Look Bitty. I’m happy to see you but him?” 
“It’s been twenty years. You’re still mad?” 
“It’s not like he apologized.” 
“Are you sure we are in the right place, kiddo?” JD asked, looking back at him, his head tilting a little. As much as JD had seen so many photos, they had all changed in the last twenty years. Spruce was no exception. Clay and Floyd wouldn’t be either. Without that connection of actually remembering them physically, it made it a bit more difficult for JD to identify those people from his past. 
He was probably missing most of the conversation. They had already talked a bit about it, that Branch should do the explaining. Although JD had a habit of making friends with people, there was a history here and their family held grudges. But then again, JD had lately been letting Branch do a lot of the leading lately. It turned out fine, most of the time, although Branch couldn’t help but be worried about the implications. Maybe he was overthinking it, which was entirely possible too. 
“What is that supposed to mean?” Spruce demanded, stepping forward. “Is this a crack about my weight?” 
JD looked absolutely bewildered but finally took a moment to actually look at Spruce a little closer. JD shifted a little, as he often did when it came to people approaching him when upset. Some kind of mechanism, Branch learned, from living out in the wild. It wasn’t something he could really entirely shake. Not that he had tried to much anyway. He was very confused and Branch knew the feeling. “What? Why would I care about some dude’s weight? Each the nachos, man. You run a restaurant.” 
“What?” That seemed to make Spruce even more upset. “Some dude?” 
JD skipped back over to Spruce and looked at him curiously again, but he stuck close to Branch. Another normal thing. The two of them physically kept together when on adventures and other things. Safer that way. It was normal now. “This is one of them right?”
“Excuse me? You’re acting like you have never met me in your life!” Spruce yelled. 
“Not that I can remember,” JD chuckled, nervously. He was trying to play off his discomfort with humor. Just more normal JD things. Branch supposed they had always been normal to him but did Spruce know that? Did he remember some of those things from their childhood? 
“Just because I changed? That is so shallow and I never thought… How have you gotten worse?!” 
“Whoa, dude, chill! Don’t take it personally. I just-” 
“Don’t take it personally? How could I not?”
“Spruce-” 
“It’s Bruce now. And I think it’s time you leave. Obviously the Great John Dory has just become a worse person and I don’t need that. I’ve got a good life with a wife and family! Something you clearly do not have.” 
“SHUT UP!” Branch yelled.
They looked over at him. 
“Would you give it a rest and let us explain?” 
“What is there to explain?” Spruce sneered. “John Dory is here, making fun of me, trying to make me do a family harmony after twenty years of no contact, topping it off with pretending he doesn’t even know me.” 
“He’s not pretending!” Branch shouted, exasperated. 
“What?” 
“He’s not pretending. JD doesn’t remember the first twenty years of his life.” 
“What? What are you talking about?”
“When I was about six, JD stumbled into Pop Village with only the memories of the last couple years. He didn’t know who I was or knew my name.” 
“It totally freaked him out,” JD nodded. 
“I mean, we are kind of freaking out Spruce here.” 
“Yeah. It gets crazier!” JD added. 
“It what?!” 
“Yeah. The King was all like sweet, you can take care of him and I-”
“Where was Gramma?” 
“Asked where was his parents and B was just like dead.” 
“A long time ago.,” Branch frowned. It took a long time to work through that. 
“Yeah. Anyways, I asked B who raised him and he said-” 
“You,” Branch snorted. 
JD grinned like it was an inside joke. It kind of was. Their entire reunion had kind of become an inside joke for the both of them. Although it started rocky, things swung into humor pretty quickly. JD never held what Branch said or acted against him. Part of it was probably because he was young and part of it was simply because JD could find things to laugh at. And it was kind of funny. “And then I was just like ok lets do it.” 
“Let’s… do it?”
“Yeah. Been taking care of this little daredevil ever since.” 
“Daredevil?” 
“It took us a bit to build his confidence but he can keep up with me easy.” 
“Better, old man.” 
“Eh… maybe debatable but you're probably not wrong!”
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yellowsubiesdance · 5 months
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my memory will destroy me one of these days
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hon3y-y · 1 month
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Roomie!sukuna doesn't even get horny for anyone other than you anymore. You have the wettest, nastiest pussy he's ever seen- and he deserves the best so nobody but you will do. You're fucking so many other fine men now that you dont even give him a second glance when he walks out the shower in just a towel to tease you. And oh, his temper when one of your hookups pick you up and you don't come home for the weekend. Or even worse, they stay for the weekend. Sukuna has never let a girl sleep over at the apartment but now there are two colognes in the bathroom, two pairs or men's shoes at the door, and he can almost never see you in the living room without some other man hanging off your side
read the other parts here! : part 1 part 2
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he’s literally so embarrassingggg it’s not even funny. he’ll walk around and flex his muscles, smirk on his puffy lips as the water drips down his ripped torso. he stands outside your open door, you’re looking down at your phone deciding on whether to spend the night at choso’s or nanami’s (pick choso, nanami gets up at like 5 am 🙄), “showers empty..” sukuna basically purr’s, resting his arm on the doorway.
and you literally could not give less of a fuck💀
you just nod, mumbling a ‘thanks’ as you focus on putting both their names in a generator and letting that choose your fate for the night. let’s just say sukuna was extremely angry when a motorcycle pulls up and you just giggle and hop onto it, kissing the stupid leather clad boy while throwing on the custom bikers helmet choso had made for you. and to top it off, sukuna had to physically restrain himself from blowing up your phone on where the fuck you are??
messages;
ryo<3: didn’t see you this morning
you: i’m staying with choso for the weekend! sorry, should’ve told you last night:/
you: i also won’t be home after wednesday satoru is taking me to this festival! i’ll send pics😋
ryo<3: have fun 👍
omfg he’s losing it. he literally will spend the whole time in the gym, refusing to be in the empty apartment for longer than eight hours for sleep. he feels like there’s a cement brick in his chest when you’re whisked away by these men. but nothing is worse than when he stays over.
he being satoru.
it was becoming a huge issue. his longest “sleepover” was a week. a week where you weren’t even home for half of it. but sukuna was. he was there for all of it.
there was now a third toothbrush taking up countertop space in the bathroom, he would find satoru’s clothes in the wash (which would always somehow be in there whenever ryo specifically had to use it??), and gojo absolutely loved to make out with you everywhere but inside of your room and sukuna started to hated it. publicly claiming you in front of the guy who literally made it possible🙄 unbelievable.
let’s just say you take a break from bringing satoru over, doing your best to settle the tension at home. but sukuna couldn’t let it go, not when he stares at the stupid fucking blue electric toothbrush and knows that it’s only temporary.
at this point he didn’t even give a fuck about the other guys, you can keep them as long as he’s added onto your roster.
it’s been a while since the two of you had a movie night. something that used to, at the very least, happen once a month has been delayed due to your extra activities. the two of you relaxed into the couch, the movie was a random one you found choosing whatever looked the best by cover and for the first time in a while, sukuna felt like he had you.
“did you buy the candy?”
“shit, yeah. i think i left it in my room?”
“go get it while i make the popcorn!” you smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling excitedly. you looked so cute and soft, and ryo got a glimpse of your cute pink panties when you bent over to grab something so he was feeling just as good. he could already picture the little damp spot he’d create after teasing you and then force you to beg and make it up to him.
he thought about it the whole walk to his room, picking up the bag and then back to the living room, fantasizing about what he plans to do. and just as he’s about to turn the corner, a head of white fluffy hair is laying on your lap, legs spread to take up the full length of the couch. and the only seat available? the one farthest from you.
“i hope you don’t mind, satoru said he missed us!”
us… sukuna looked down at gojo, looking at the content quirk in his lip while he snuggled into you more, moving one of your hands into his hair to play with it. ryo’s eye twitched before he put the bag down and went back into his room, the door slamming behind him. the noise makes you force satoru up, a pit forming in your stomach. you didn’t want sukuna to feel uncomfortable in his own house—
“damn, what’s he so mad abo- he got macha kitkats!? mmm~”
*bonus*
sukuna is literally in his room about to dry heave because??? what alternative version of himself gave him such bad karma?!? in his room like this;
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but quietly, because he DEFINITELY doesn’t want you to see him like this. such a fein🤦‍♀️
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a/n: i didn’t put smut because i didn’t want to get repetitive BUT should we finally let sukuna get a taste?? part 4 where he finally gets her?? lmk🫶
*not edited*
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buckyalpine · 8 months
Text
CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)
Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering. 
-
Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard. 
You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting. 
“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-
“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?” 
“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off. 
“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark. 
Which was a mess in itself. 
You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour. 
“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now. 
You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more. 
“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair. 
“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you. 
“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.
“Y/n” 
You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks. 
“Y/n” 
Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself. 
“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs 
“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues. 
“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”
“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day. 
In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week. 
Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault. 
He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning. 
You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness. 
You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out. 
“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you” 
“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze. 
“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you” 
“I shouldn’t have messed u-
“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips. 
“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.
“What did you miss” 
“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?” 
“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch. 
You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips. 
“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off. 
“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection. 
“Please what, sweets” 
“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out. 
“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds. 
“Sir, pleasee” 
“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”
He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing. 
“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream” 
“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait. 
“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me” 
Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel. 
“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you. 
“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again. 
“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE
“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls. 
“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings. 
“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed. 
“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand. 
“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl” 
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
From the request here
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.
Word Count: 4.3 k
Warnings:
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“Look at the jugs on her,” one of the guys says at the busty blonde that has just been introduced for the first time in the film. A few others follow suit, whooping at the gorgeous, petite female main character popping up on screen as the movie really gets going. “That’s a woman you could lose yourself in. Fuck, I wish I could find a girl like her; I’d be a happy man for life. To have that waiting at home for me, I’d never even be tempted to stray.”
This is usually how movie night on base goes: people piling into the rec center ready to watch the latest movie from the personal collection from one of the members, but mostly it just devolves into a testosterone fest of horny boys itching to have something to focus their sexual frustrations on by ogling at the new pretty little thing on screen. Usually it doesn’t bother you, you’re used to being around all that chaos, but tonight just feels different.
Simon isn’t one for this type of gathering, but he comes to keep an on the crowd and be nearer to you and as he watches out of the corner of his eye from his place standing towards the back, he notices how your body language changes as the guys continue to raucously talk about the leading lady and how beautiful she is. It’s almost imperceptible the way you shift in your seat while you pick at the skin of your lower lip with your teeth, your shoulders slumping down as you cross your arms, but he catches it outright. He knows you and he knows this isn’t normal. 
Something is bothering you.
The longer you sit there the worse it gets. Their lustful words just cut different tonight; maybe it’s exhaustion from being overworked or perhaps you’re just having an off day, but the longer they hoot and holler over the girl plastered before your eyes, the more you want to crawl out of your skin.
It’s about halfway through the movie when you slowly get up from your seat, trying not to draw attention to yourself by leaving too quickly and exit the rec without looking back. Simon is instantly concerned and wants to rush after you, but one of the newer recruits that seems to be the ringleader in all this turns to him as if to drag him into the depraved fun.
“Whatcha think; gotta admit she’s a fine thing, ain’t she Lieutenant?” he asks, nodding back at the screen. “Come on, even you gotta admit she’s perfect. Couldn’t hope to find anyone better.” 
The look that Simon gives the young man through his mask, that stone cold glare that could make even the bravest man shiver, instantly shuts him up and has him facing forward again to join his brothers in arms in their jokes. His brow furrows angrily behind the fabric as he looks over the crowd of boys once more before heading out, leaving quietly like a specter on his way to find where you had gotten to. 
Simon checks all the usual places, but you are nowhere to be found: the little area outside the rec where you usually join him for a smoke break, the mess hall, even your barracks are empty. Then he hears movement in the communal bathroom and knows he’s finally found you. 
It looks like you’ve been rushing to get done before anyone can catch you. Your hair is damp from the shower and it drips down to leave dark stains onto your t-shirt as you stand staring at yourself in the mirror behind the sink. Simon watches quietly from his obscured place by the door as you look yourself over, scrutinizing each detail from head to toe before you give up with a sigh and a diversion of your eyes, focusing on your toothbrush instead as you pick it up and turn on the faucet. So absorbed in what you are doing, you don’t hear the lock click closed or the pair of heavy boots that cross the length of the room until there is a presence upon you. 
“God, you’re so beautiful baby,” you hear that deep, gravelly voice sound from behind you while a bulky arm wraps itself around your waist from behind as Simon presses up against your back. You look back up into the mirror in front of you and are instantly met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes as he slowly removes his balaclava. “Just standin’ there fresh outta the shower and ya look like a fantasy.”  
Setting the mask on the sink he joins his other arm around you and leans his face in, the tip of his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck before he presses his lips against your jugular. His lips catch the feeling of your pulse quickening through the vein at his touch. Rough hands begin to splay across your clothed stomach, running across and down to your hips with gentle caresses that make you pause. Your eyes stare into the mirror to take in your combined form as he drapes himself over you, hot lips peppering your skin with no sign of letting up.
You chuckle dismissively, trying to play off his words as a joke. Your head still isn’t in the right place and even though you enjoy the feeling of his touch, disastrous thoughts still circle throughout to cloud your mind so that you second guess even his affections. 
“Oh, come off it,” you return as you grab the toothpaste off the countertop. “I do not.” 
There is no hesitation in his reply. “I’m serious,” he breathes that husky whisper against your skin as his lips continue down to your shoulder as his fingers pull the t-shirt away from your collar bone to reveal more skin for him to adorn with his mouth.
You roll your eyes in the mirror so that as he looks up briefly he catches the movement. “Yeah, sure,” you again dismiss him. “Whatever you say.”
Before you can even unscrew the cap to the toothpaste, Simon reaches past you to turn off the tap and take your things out of your hands before he rotates you around so that you face him. Your backside presses into the edge of the sink as you rest up against it, mouth scrunched to one side as he gazes back at you with intent. There is a subtle frown on his lips and an anxious look in his copper eyes. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Somethin’ happen? Cause I did see ya leave in a hurry back there.”
You divert your eyes, ashamed of your lack of confidence that has come forward tonight. “I don’t know, it’s nothing,” you shrug, but he isn’t buying any of it. 
His large hand rests itself up under your chin, pulling your head back up to look into his face. “I think ya do know,” he says. “Will ya tell me?”
Clearing your throat, you give yourself a moment to figure out how best to proceed. “It’s just,” you say hesitantly, “I guess sometimes I just wish I looked like that, you know? I know I’m usually not this self-conscious, but tonight I guess I just hit a rough patch with my insecurities and something about the shit they were saying just got to me I guess. You see the way the guys talk about girls like in that movie, like she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. She’s so perfect and… I…”
You gesture with your head down the length of your body to emphasize your point that you are nothing like the actress: your breasts are on the smaller side, your thighs are incredibly thick, and your stomach is not completely flat. Simon follows your hand, looking you up and down before his eyes meet yours again.
“I’m not. I know it’s fucking stupid and I shouldn’t care about all that, it doesn’t really matter, but sometimes it’s just hard to ignore. I’m not the standard when it comes to beauty, but sometimes I just want to feel like I’m the most irresistible person in the room.”
It seems like he wants to say something, you can see his mouth shifting, but instead his gaze drifts down to your lips and he pulls your chin forward to close the distance between your mouths. Instantly he overtakes your mouth with his own, tenderly capturing your lips over and over with a gentle desperation that makes him shudder against you as he moves in closer. 
“Who the fuck said ya ain’t perfect?” he asks, his voice breathy against your lips. “Gimme that bastard’s name. You tell me right now so I can go ring their fuckin’ neck. Cause that is a goddamn lie.”
“No one said anything like that, it’s just the way I feel,” you answer honestly. “And you’re only saying that because you like me.” 
Immediately Simon pulls you into another long kiss as if he is trying to take those insecure words right out of your mouth before you can say anything else. Breaking the kiss, Simon licks his flushed lips and shakes his head. “Really? Ya don’t think your body can drive someone wild? Then what’s this, hmm?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand forward so that he can place the palm over top of the soft bulge growing in his boxers. “See whatcha do to me, sweetheart? Ya think that’s lyin’?”
Your hand rubs over the swell and his hips unconsciously buck slightly against your hand as he hums in approval of your touch. It is instantaneous the way you have him begging for even a simple touch from you; no other has ever held that kind of power over him, not anyone that he would give it to so freely like he does you. The warm pressure from your hand causes the pulsing to intensify as he grows harder and you find your heart beat starting to match its throbbing.
“Ya don’t think I catch the men lookin’ at ya from time to time?” he asks as he leans his head forward until it rests against your own, hands moving up under the hem of your shirt to play with the toasty skin of your abdomen as he talks. “Ya don’t think I see that their eyes glaze over as they linger on your body a bit too long for my fuckin’ likin’? Just cause they won’t say it out loud doesn’t make it any less true that you have something about ya that would drive any man wild.”
His words are like a balm to your mind and the longer he speaks the more you find yourself falling under their spell. Rough fingers are pushing up higher into your shirt, pulling it up over your waist as he runs his palms across the area while his hips press into yours. He’s not forceful or harsh, his advances are only full of adoration in that type of intense devotion that only Simon Riley is capable of when it comes to savoring the best damn thing he has ever had.   
“Don’t let what ya heard back there hurt ya,” he says softly. “Yeah, ya don’t look like that bird on the screen, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an absolute beauty. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen and I ain’t just sayin’ it, baby. But ya don’t just have ta take my word for it. Let me show ya that no one can hold a candle to what ya got.”
Simon pulls you over to one of the empty showers and gets it going, fiddling with the taps to make sure the water is going nice and warm before he turns his undivided attention back to you. Instantly his mouth is back on yours as one by one each piece of your clothing is removed and set aside in tandem with his own until you both stand before the other bare.
“I’ve already showered,” you mutter out between pauses as merely just a statement of fact rather than a reason to deny him.
Simon murmurs his disagreement into your mouth. “Don’t care,” he replies through a break in his kiss, continuing to take off your clothes as he dizzyingly tries to get at your body. “Can’t be havin’ those fuckin’ negative thoughts in that head of yours. Wanna take care of ya, make ya feel like the true beauty ya are.”
More kissing, so much that your lips are burning and raw from the friction. His mouth must be aflame too, but he doesn’t let up; he can’t, he’s captured in the wake of your allure and there is no getting out. 
“What if someone comes in?” The last of your questions spills out quick.
He chuckles at your needless worry. “Already locked the door sweetheart.”
Stretching his hand out, he checks the temperature to be sure it’s right before dragging you inside the steamy oasis. The curtain is barely pulled closed before he has you pinned at the back wall, his stocky torso rubbing against your voluptuous naked body as he steals the breath from your lungs, kissing you so thoroughly that there is no distinction between faces anymore.
The change in temperature has your nipples hardening, the blossoms spiking forward at attention, and Simon can feel them poking against his chest the longer he has your mouth locked in that dance of back and forth. The moment he is aware of their presence his mouth is salivating to get at them. 
You might think they are not perfect enough, but to him they are exactly what he wants.
Breaking the kiss abruptly, removing his mouth so quickly that a trial of spit still connects your lips a moment, he tilts his head downward. Being on the smaller side, he can fit your breast almost entirely in his mouth and he does, filling the cavity with as much of your tit as he can without choking. 
You can hardly remember anymore why the stupid comments had you so upset in the first place when you have a man like Simon who will dote on you like you are royalty. His is the only opinion you have come to care about and it is clear that there is nothing he will ever want more than you. 
He moans deep and guttural into your breast as he sucks while letting the end of his tongue flick around the nipple, circling the sensitive tissue until you are writhing against him as he holds you steady to the wall so that he can work. There is another breast after all that requires his attention and he intends to show it the same amount of affection as the other. Switching sides, he gets to work, keeping the first breast warm by cupping it in his hand.
It’s minutes of you quivering and whimpering before he emerges panting with his lips swollen and red, satisfied with his work so far. Giving his lips a break, Simon gently strokes your cheek with his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, swaying your bodies from side to side in easy movements. “Stay with me luv,” he says softly as he watches you take heavy breaths, “I ain’t done just yet.”
Those lips are on the move again to decorate your body, over your sternum and waist, until he has to kneel before you to get any further. He’s on his knees, all 6’4” of him bent to you as he places kisses across your belly while the heated water runs over his dirty blonde hair and down his back, rippling across the muscles in his shoulders as he holds your hips squeezed securely between his broad hands. 
“You’re perfect just the way ya are, baby,” he groans against your moist skin, letting his lips linger wherever he puts them. “Just like this: real, curves for fuckin’ days, so much skin I get drunk tryin’ to get at it all. And the best goddamn part is that it’s all mine.”
More kisses he places along all the areas you think unworthy of adoration, but that he finds absolutely exquisite. “Mine, all mine.”
His words devolve into incoherent babble as he nestles his face into your abdomen to leave burning trails of his desire with his lips that even the warm water cannot wash away from your skin. Your body writhes in his double-handed grasp as your head falls back to rest against the wall as every inch of tender flesh prickles with the overstimulating sensation of being doted upon. 
Lips keep trailing further downward from your stomach to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs.
“Ya think I get on my knees for any girl?” he asks from his place at the bottom of the shower as he stares up into your face with half-lidded eyes that darken the more he plays with you. “You’re the only one who can bring me to fuckin’ kneel, baby. You and your gorgeous body. I’m at it’s goddamn mercy.” 
Placing his hand on your calf, he nods and you know exactly what he wants: that juicy cunt smothering his features, your bulky thighs crush against his ears. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and he leans in, smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip. 
There is little oxygen to be had between the heat from the water and the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft, breathy gasps and moans as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up to breathe. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, if there is even a whisper of a negative thought left in your brain it is overshadowed completely now by the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured to the brink of insanity.
You buck wild and untamed, panting heavily as the warmth in your belly begins gathering quicker than you could have thought, the coil pulling tightly as minute by aching minute Simon draws your body to the edge of its release. He is relentless in his endeavor, putting your needs above anything else- even breathing. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you soon are spilling over the edge and he has to hold onto you tight so that you don’t slip and fall.
Simon stays locked to your pussy until the very last second, keeping his movements going even as you try to pry him off from the sensitivity that is almost too much to handle. It isn’t until you finally stop writhing that he emerges from between your legs with a smile that has your stomach doing somersaults as he wipes his mouth clean of your cum. 
“Second course,” he growls before you even have a chance to fully come down from your high.
Oh you have got him down bad tonight. 
He carefully flips you round to face the wall and uses his feet to make you spread your legs as wide as you can get them. A hefty hand runs itself over the curve of your ass, following the line down all the way to the underside before he grabs it in his hand and gives the meat a firm squeeze.
“Those little boys just don’t know how to handle this much woman; all these fuckin’ curves are too much pleasure for a bastard that don’t know the treasure he’s got. But I know what a fuckin’ feast ya are,” he groans as he aligns your hips and enters you from behind with a forceful grunt that reverberates off the enclosed space of the shower. 
You push palms flat against the wall to steady yourself. “They don’t know how ta treat ya right, how ta love a body that just keeps givin’ and givin’. But I don’t have that problem, sweetheart.”
Simon’s devout words are like liquid fire and as his cock stretches you wide, the euphoria of his talk runs through you to make you burn. Your body is his religion and goddamn does he always worship it right. All those cares, all that self-loathing and doubt entirely evaporate from your mind as he pushes your shoulders forward to make you arch your back so that he can pound into your pussy hard and deep from behind, making your plump ass bounce off his pelvis with a recoil that draws his gaze.
“Fuck,” he breathes, so obsessed with the way you look around him that he is trying to ingrain the image in his mind.  
His aching exclamation thrills you, making your heart skip a beat as his thrusts continue to rock through you. To be craved in such a way, to be thought of like the woman in the movie, that is what he is giving you now and it is euphoric. His intensity is orgasmic and your body responds in kind as he grabs you to move you closer.
“Don’t concern yourself with the bullshit ideas of some puny little boys when ya got a man who will always make sure you feel like a fuckin’ princess when you’re in his arms,” he says in a whisper at your ear as he pulls you back to leans against his chest. “Cause ya are, sweetheart. Your my fuckin’ goddess of a woman.”
The way he says it makes you ache all over and you can feel it twinge in your clit. “Say it again,” you beg, needing to hear him make those sweet combinations of sounds once more until your body vibrates with pleasure. 
His hand comes up to cup around your breast so that he can massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to mewl at the sensation. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful baby, so goddamn perfect just like this, and I love every last fuckin’ inch of ya. My princess.”
Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you full on all of his passion for your body. You will never be able to make everyone see you for the gorgeous being that you truly are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Simon is more than enough to keep you feeling like the most beautiful girl in the whole world; you are safe with him.
Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his arms that are filled with your waist clamp down tighter to secure you to him so that he can shove his cock even harder into your now dripping core. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out. 
“Come for me again,” he practically demands as he watches you falling apart once more. “Come on, pretty girl, one more for me. One more together.”
Your limbs are tingling with each snap of his hips against your ass. It’s close, right there, you can almost feel it again as the coil wounds itself tight once more in the pit of your stomach. You clench down on him, making him falter before recovering and continuing on. A few more pumps of him deep in your core and it is right there at the precipice.
“Let go for me,” he whispers into your ear as you clench once more around him and something about the way he says it sets you off. You come for the second time, the orgasm rocketing through you until you can feel it like fire shooting through your veins as you shake with the intensity of it all. 
Quickly he pulls out just in time as he too pops off and comes between your thighs as you clamp them together around his cock. The ejaculate runs down your legs as he milks every last bit out of the tip until his body hangs limp and his head falls down to rest the forehead against your shoulder. Still he holds you close, murmuring soft praises against your neck about how fucking amazing that was and how there is no one else that will ever look more beautiful all flushed and exhausted.
Holding onto you, Simon takes a few steps back forcing you to come along until you are both submerged under the showerhead to let that soothing water run over your bodies until you can both come back down from your high. There are no words yet, none that need to be said out loud, all he needs to do is keep you wrapped in his arms a little longer.
It’s quiet, just the sound of the water rushing filling the silent space for a while, until a noise breaks you both out of the moment. There is a banging on the door from the outside, repeated knocking loudly and clearly; you’ve been in here for too long, but Simon doesn’t seem to be bothered. There is no attempt to leave the steamy oasis yet and soon the sound subsides and you are both left in the silence once again. 
“They’ll just have to fuckin’ wait,” he says against the side of your head in a hushed whisper, lips tempting your earlobe. “They can consider it a punishment for making ya upset. Besides, I’m still busy and you’re not goin’ anywhere.”
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helenanell · 1 month
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A Breath of Life || Challengers
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Part Two
Pairing(s) : Reader x Patrick – Reader x Art – Reader x Tashi (sort of.) 
CW: MDNI - 18+ : smut, rough / manhandling. Infidelity. Angst. A lot of yearning. (They all want each other, badly.) Manipulative behaviour. Minor spoilers for the film.
Notes: Female Reader (AFAB Reader) - Absolutely no use of y/n, (because I despise it, sorry)
Wordcount: 9.7K
Summary: You met Tashi in your final year of high school and were more than happy to have lost a tennis match against her. Afterwards, the two of you become inseparable and you find yourself feeling for her in a way that you don’t quite understand.And then things get even more complicated when Patrick and Art burst into your lives. As the years pass, desire, love and hatred all get tangled together...and so do the four of you.
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The idea of meeting Tashi Duncan had been much more intimidating than the actual event itself. It was an odd thing, to idolise someone who was the exact same age as you—a girl not yet out of high school and still so chronically unsure of herself and the world—but it was impossible not to. 
You had watched every single match of hers that you could, staring for so long at the way she moved, that you were left with the afterimage of her burned into your eyes: She was in your thoughts constantly and always waiting behind your eyes when you closed them hoping for sleep. 
You were brilliant at tennis, you knew that you were. But Tashi played like it was the only way she could take oxygen into her lungs; each serve and shot an inhalation and exhalation. You understood, because you felt something similar.
For a long time, you had been ignored or dismissed in every aspect of your life, by everyone. But then you had found tennis, and you were really fucking great at it. 
 Tennis saved your life by making you undeniably tangible. Your existence could not be disputed when someone had to react to your movements, to receive something you had offered. 
It was no wonder then, that for as long a match lasted you were unhealthily obsessed with whoever it was that you were playing against. They made you real. 
But then you played Tashi. You had lost, of course, but it had been a close match, neither of you dominating for long before the other gained the upper hand once more. The gasps from the crowd had been the swelling of some great tide, breaking against your flesh and reinvigorating you like freezing water. 
Once it was over, you felt bereft of something vital. You felt as though you had slipped back into non-existence, only this time it was worse than ever, because your connection to Tashi Duncan was gone. 
But your body remembered. It ached and throbbed, rebelling at all you had put it through- no. All Tashi had put it through. You were desperate to feel it again. 
And your prayer was answered. 
She appeared before you like an angel.
Tashi jogged over to you as you gathered your things after the match, flushed and with beads of sweat glistening on her skin like crystals. And her eyes…they had been wide and dark and enrapturing. And then she had said the words that would change the trajectory of your life: 
“So, when can I play you again?”
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Ruah is the Hebrew word that means God’s spirit, but it is also breath or air and is widely understood to be God’s presence in the world. 
You couldn’t remember when you had learnt the word, but you knew that in the Bible, God had created Adam by breathing life into him. Which was why, when anyone joked about Tashi Duncan being some kind of deity, you could not dispute it, because that is what she had done to you. 
Tashi had breathed life into you.
 Her presence in your life has allowed you to come alive even off the court: you finally felt like a real person. Thanks to her, you knew that when you put your racket down, you did not simply disappear. 
Tashi saw you, on and off the court, and you loved her for it.
But, by the time you were both accepted into Stanford, over a year after you’d first met, you still wouldn’t let yourself delve into that love, and work out the ways in which you felt it. Not only because, you’d only ever been drawn to guys in any romantic or sexual way, but also because you felt undeserving of her.
 How pathetic would it be for you, who crawled at your best friend’s feet, to look up and whimper out words of desire to her?
 You were blessed to have her in your life, let alone to be as close with her as you were. Love was so many disparate things; you could love her as a friend, and hold that carnal aspect deep down. Just having her in your life was more than enough. She was enough.
Or so you thought. 
At the party celebrating Tashi, the two of you had not yet left each other’s side. You were dancing together, close enough that you could feel the ecstasy of victory buzzing beneath her skin as she held your hands and pulled you close. Her hair was silken and flowing down her back and as you were tangled up with her, it tickled against your own exposed skin. 
“They’re still staring.” You whisper into her ear, laughing as she answers by twirling you around and then pulling you back in. 
You practically fall into one another, having to steady yourself by placing your hands on her hips, the beaded fabric of her dark blue dress digging into the palms of your hands. 
“Good.” Tashi answers, wrapping her arms around your shoulders.
She turns you enough that with your chin resting on her shoulder, you are looking right at the two boys who had been gawking all night. One dark haired with confidence coming off him in waves, the other more reserved, a different kind of potency bubbling beneath the surface.
The blonde’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head, offering a delicate but untethering smile. 
“You’re going to have to talk to them.” You offer, still held in Tashi’s arms. “Otherwise they’re going to follow you around like lost puppies all night.”
You gasp and squirm away as your friend playfully pinches your side.
 “Do you really think they’re just looking at me?” Tashi questions incredulously.
You laugh at her shock. “Of course they are.” You say, gesturing up and down her form as she continues to sway to the music. 
“Oh my God!” Tashi exclaims, grabbing your hand and pulling you close again. “You’re such a fucking idiot! They’re looking at you, too!” 
You roll your eyes, but can’t help feeling a little buoyed at the prospect of being desired. “Yeah, right.”
Tashi shakes her head. “It’s a good thing you’re so oblivious, I like having you all to myself!”
Heat floods every part of you, acutely aware of the sweat trickling down the back of your neck, your skin uncomfortably warm. 
Only when the two of you have stopped dancing do they come over. 
Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig saunter needfully into your life and had you known then all that would ensue, you still would have welcomed their approach. 
━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━
The four of you had wandered down to the beach. 
Art and Patrick were sitting on deck chairs that sat side by side, their legs stretched out and their gazes lustful, both of them looking at Tashi who was perched on a rock opposite them. In that moment, the moon seemed made only for her, the silver light lining her form. 
You sit on the sand near her, your legs pulled up to your chest. The waves softly hit the beach behind you, lulling you into an even more incorporeal mindset. All that exists to you, is Tashi and the two boys who so clearly want her. 
Despite how desperately you want to engage in their conversation, you’re exhausted and distracted by the knowledge that your parents will already be looking for you. 
You’ve rested your chin on your knees, your eyes drooping shut, when a voice calls out to you. 
“Hey, are you okay?”
 Art is crouching beside you, his hand on your back, his knees sinking into the sand, shifting the surface beneath you. You jolt at the contact, scrambling to your feet as Tashi chuckles.
 Patrick’s gaze flits between you and Art and then over to your best friend, his cheeks dimpled with a smirk. 
“I’m fine.” You reassure with a shaky smile, brushing sand off the back of your dress. “I should go though, my parents will be waiting.” 
“You can’t leave!” Patrick protests playfully, placing a hand to his chest. “You’ll break my heart.”
You grin, spurred on by his own smile and shrug. “And why should I care about that?”
Patrick’s mouth drops open in feigned hurt as Art chuckles, shoving his hands into his pockets and stepping away from you. 
You turn to Tashi, meaning to say goodbye, but she’s already up and hugging you. She often kisses your cheek as a form of goodbye, but this time she gets so close that her lips tease the corner of your mouth as hers make contact. You are electrified by it.
You know that she isn’t doing it for you, which is confirmed when she pulls away with her eyes flitting giddily between Art and Patrick who have both gone utterly still as they watched the display. 
 Despite the jealous ache that blooms, you play into it, because another part of you is excited at the thought of working the two boys up. You pull Tashi back into a hug, your hands resting dangerously low on her back as you squeeze her. She giggles into your ear. 
“You already have them wrapped around your little finger.” You say it quietly, but loud enough that you know the boys will hear. 
Over Tashi’s shoulder, you see Patrick smirk again and Art runs his thumb over his his bottom lip with a small smile on his face.
When you do finally pull away, Tashi smacks you on the ass. 
“It was great to meet to you!” Art shouts after you. 
“I miss you already!” Is Patrick’s shouted offering.
You just shake your head and continue on your path away from the beach.
Unbeknownst to you, three sets of eyes follow you until you’ve disappeared from view.
When you get home, you still feel the touch of Tashi all over you. But when your hand dips under the covers, something has changed. Because when you close your eyes, it’s not just Tashi you see. Instead, multiple people are fighting for dominance in your midnight fantasy:
You see Patrick’s licentious smirk.
You see Art’s coy smile. 
They’ve both invaded your mind, corrupted your thoughts that for a year had been so gloriously void of anything but Tashi.
And from that moment, you know part of you will always hate them. For so long, even knowing you can’t have her, all you’ve needed to sate yourself are thoughts of Tashi. But they’ve changed that.
You hate Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson because they’ve made you want more. You want….one of them. You don't know why and you also don’t know which one of them it is. 
But what is clear to you, is that a new itch has arisen within you, and it comes with panic, because unlike with Tashi, you’re certain there’s a possibility that one of them might actually want to scratch the itch for you.
━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━
Had he known how furious you were going to be with him when you arrived, you doubted Art would have been so eager to invite you to have lunch with him in the cafeteria. 
Even when you slam your tray down and drop into the seat opposite him, he still looks happy to see you. He always did. It was infuriating.
“What are you playing at, Art?” You struggle to keep your volume down. You hadn’t wanted to yell at someone in a long time, but he had managed it.
Concern flashes in his eyes, but his lips press together in a way that tells you he knows exactly what you’re referring to. And yet he still asks:
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re fucking with Tashi’s head.”
“I would never do that.”
You scoff, stabbing the flimsy plastic fork into your salad. “Except you are, and I know that you’re doing it on purpose.”
Art pushes his own tray to the side and settles his elbow onto the table, resting his chin on his hand. “Yeah, how’d you figure?”
“Why else would you tell her that Patrick doesn’t love her?”
“Because I don’t think he does. Do you?”
You ignore his question, instead opting to pick up your apple and throw it at his head, hard. He catches it, that damnable little smile still on his face. 
“For fuck sake, Art!” You erupt. “She needs to keep her head on straight. Don’t upset her just because you want her for yourself!”
He tilts his head, blue eyes sparkling as he takes a large bite out of the apple. He chews for a bit before holding it back out to you, speaking through a mouthful:
 “You should have the rest of this, you haven’t been eating enough.”
“Fuck you!” You snatch it from his hand and shift in your seat, easily throwing it and landing it right in a nearby trashcan.
“Well that was a waste of perfectly good fruit.” Art licks some residue off his thumb and then leans across the table. 
You fail to snatch your wrist away before he grabs it. He’s gentle but firm, and as his thumb rubs along your pulse point, you feel the residual moisture from his own mouth he’d left behind, transferring to your skin.
“You don’t have to fight this hard to protect her,” Art presses. “She’s a grown woman.”
“She’s my best friend and I don’t want you to hurt her.” 
Art’s thumb stills, but he tugs your wrist a little closer. “Do you really think I could?” 
You scowl, pulling free of his hold. “You know, the way you and Patrick worship her isn’t the compliment that you both seem to think it is. You’re putting her up on a pedestal, practically deifying her, but she’s not invulnerable. She feels more strongly than anyone I’ve ever known and tennis is her life. If you get in her head and fuck up her game, It will break her and then I will break your fucking hands.”
This time when he’s smiles, it’s rife with fondness for you and it makes you want to punch him for the fluttering it causes in your stomach.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He says simply.
“What?”
“Do you think Patrick loves her?” Art repeats patiently. 
“Do you love her, Art?” 
“Can you please just answer my question?”
“I don’t know!” You throw your hands up in exasperation. “I’m not even sure I would know love if I saw it. All I do know, is that you both lust after her and definitely for each other too, even if you’ll never admit it. You’re all totally fucked.”
Art’s jaw clenches, the muscles ticking, but instead of irritation or anger at your outburst, his gaze softens. When he speaks, it is soft and achingly tender:
“You do know love. Because you love Tashi.” 
You let out an embittered laugh. “Of course I do. I tell her all the time.”
“But she doesn’t love you, not in the same way.”
You really didn’t know if he intended for that to sting, especially not with how gently he’d said it, but if he had, he’d failed. You came to accept that fact a long while ago, and while you would always want Tashi in some respect, it was not the all consuming desire it had been. The lust was gone. She was important to you. She was your best friend and you wanted to protect her. 
Unfortunately, the two men you wanted to protect her from, were the ones who had usurped her as objects of desire in your mind.
“Are you trying to find yourself a catchphrase before you go pro?” You sneer at Art. “I’m not sure how great that would look on a billboard for Adidas.”
“You deserve to be loved.” 
You had picked up your cup to take a drink of water, but upon hearing his words, you slam it down again and rise to your feet. He tracks your every move, as calm as ever.
 “I can’t talk to you right now, Art. You’re being cruel.”
You storm away from the table, only making it a few steps before you hear the scrape of his chair against the floor as he rushes to follow you.
 You’ve only just pushed open the door when he crowds up behind you. 
Art’s hand lands on your back as he guides you outside, his other hand rests on your arm and even after he turns you to face him, his touch remains.
 His hand is wrapped lightly around your arm, the other keeping you close- his palm pressed against your lower back. Anyone watching would think he was drawing you into an embrace. You almost shudder at the contact.
 Patrick has always been handsy, touching and caressing you under the guise of teasing, but Art has always moved around you as though you’ll disintegrate at the lightest touch. The way he’d held your wrist back in the dining hall and how he cradles you now, is the most he’s ever touched you.
 Your chest heaves as your flesh tingles.
Art’s head drops, his eyes on his own hand on your arm, as if he can’t understand why he’s holding you. His voice is strained:
“Patrick isn’t good for her.”
And just like that, you’re slammed mercilessly back down to earth. 
Art wasn’t touching you with tenderness or affection, you were just someone he was holding in place so that you had to hear him out. So you had to hear how much he wanted Tashi. 
“Oh, but I deserve to be thrown at him as a distraction so that you can have her?” You snap at him, more hurt than you’ll ever admit.
“You deserve whatever it is that you actually want.” 
Art sounds frustrated now, not at you…but perhaps at what he knows you won’t say. You do want Patrick. But you also want him. You had just never considered that he knew that.
But that’s not what you say. Instead you say–
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Do you want to know why he isn’t good for her?” Art presses, entirely unaffected by your fury.
“No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
The hand on your back pulls you a little closer, one errant blonde curl falls down from his forehead and brushes your temple. His breath is hot against your cheek. 
“Patrick’s not good for her-“ Art begins, his tone becoming embittered. “Because he wants you. He always has.” 
You rip free from Art’s grip with such force that the friction of it burns, his fingerprints leaving red marks on your arm. “You are unbelievable!” 
“I’m not lying. You know I wouldn’t, not to you.”
“You will say anything to have her won’t you?” You laugh nastily. “What’s the plan, Art? Do you think that I’ll try and seduce Patrick away from her now, leaving a space open for you to swoop in?” 
“Ask me how I know.”
“No.” You spit back at him. 
But you don’t move. 
Your body waits for words that your mind doesn’t think it can handle hearing. Something feels so close to breaking and you can’t help but feel like it’s to do with whatever force binds the four of you together. 
Art steps forward, closing the distance again, he raises his hands and rests them on either side of your neck, his thumbs pressing onto where your pulse is ratcheting beneath your fragile skin. 
“I know he wants you, because the night after he won our match- when he won Tashi’s number- he told me that I should fuck you.”
“Art.” You warn, frustrated tears bringing horrible pressure behind your eyes.
A small group comes out of the dining hall and have to split down the middle, because neither of you move a muscle. Art’s hold tightens, like he’s trying to leave a permanent imprint behind without it hurting you. 
He whispers now. “Patrick told me to fuck you. And I know him. He said that because when he couldn't have you, it excited him to think that I would. That I'd tell him about sleeping with you.”
“That was such a long time ago.” You say shakily, coming completely unmoored.
But Art won’t let it go.
“He still looks at you the same way, and that’s not fair to Tashi. You want to protect her, right? Well what will it do her when she finally notices the way her boyfriend is constantly eye-fucking her best friend?”
You hit out against his chest with a closed fist. The shock more than the force makes him stagger back. 
“You are so fucked in the head! You and Patrick are both pathetic little leeches who want the same girl, but can’t cope with the way it’s made them realise that they also want each other. You know what? I actually think so much would be solved, if you and Patrick just fucked each other!”
You start to back away and Art darts forward, trying to grab you again, but you smack his hand away and turn your back.
“Leave me alone, Art! And leave me out of your shit!”
He calls out your name with ragged desperation, but he does not follow. And even though he’s truly made your skin crawl, something about that makes you even more furious. 
Why won’t he follow you? 
Why do you still want him to?
━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━
You hadn’t spoken to any of them since your argument with Art. 
You couldn’t cope with the realisation that if any of them ever did feel any desire for you, it was only because they saw you as some sort of vessel through which they could access parts of the person that they truly wanted.  
You couldn’t even be said to exist in Tashi’s shadow anymore, you had simply been subsumed by it. Those two men, who you both despised and wanted desperately, would never see you, not really. To them, you were just part of her. But you would not let them ruin your friendship with Tashi. You just wouldn’t.
You knew when you arrived to watch her match that something wasn’t right. She was upset. You could see it in all the minutiae of her: in the way she took off her hoodie, in the way she picked up her racket. Something was really wrong. 
You walk through the stands until you come across Art. 
There are two free spaces to the right of him, so you sit down on the one furthest away, leaving a gap in the middle for Patrick to take up when he arrives. But then time passes and the match approaches and he still hasn’t materialised. 
You feel Art staring long before he makes his move. The air shifts as he shuffles over into the seat directly beside you.
“That seat is taken.” You intone harshly. Your eyes are fixed on Tashi as she prepares. 
“If it was, I wouldn’t have been able to sit in it.” 
“Sorry, I should have been clearer. I don’t want you anywhere near me, so I want Patrick to sit there instead of you.”
Your name is a tentative as he speaks it. “Will you please look at me? I can’t handle you not looking at me.”
Your gaze remains set on Tashi, she looks up and finds you in the crowd. The furious divot between her brow eases for a moment before her eyes snag on the way that Art is leaning into you. She turns her back on the entire crowd, but you know the gesture is meant for you alone. 
Fuck. What the hell had happened overnight? If it was Art’s meddling, you’d kill him. 
“The match is about to start.” You say coldly. 
 Art’s hand lands on your knee, but when you flinch, he immediately pulls it away. 
“I know I hurt you and I’m sorry. I- I need you to forgive me.”
You grit your teeth at his audacity. “Why do you need me to, Art?”
“Because I can’t stand the thought of you not being in my li-“
The match begins and Art never gets to finish his sentence. 
In fact, you don’t speak to him properly for almost a decade after that. Because Tashi gets hurt. Her sporting career ends in the blink of an eye and takes your friendship with it.
━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━
Both you and Art had sprinted down onto the court, your heart breaking in your chest as you fell to your knees beside your best friend, tears gathering in her eyes as she whimpered in pain. 
What had hurt the most though, was the way Tashi had shoved your hand away when you had tried to comfort her.
“Don’t touch me!” She had barked on a ragged breath. “Get away from me. Get away!” 
The hatred had dripped from her words and landed on you like a corrosive liquid. And as it had burned down to the bone, you had looked at Art and the apologetic agony with which he’d regarded you—even as he’d cradled Tashi’s head in his hands—told you what he’d done.  
He’d not only told you about Patrick’s supposed lust for you, but he’d also told Tashi. He had told her that even after her now boyfriend had won her number, he’d apparently been thinking about fucking you. Art had also definitely shared his little insight that Patrick didn’t love her either, which you quickly worked out had contributed to his absence.
So Art got what he wanted: he finally had his hands on Tashi and he’d done it by carving you and Patrick away. 
Art Donaldson was an attentive, gentle, even needy man, but you had been so stupid to think that meant he couldn’t also be calculated and cruel. Because of course he was. What else could win the heart of Tashi Duncan but brutal passion? It was part of what she loved about tennis: the unforgiving force of hits that once you met them, somehow felt like affection.
When Patrick had tracked an injured Tashi down, still waiting to be taken to hospital, he had been ordered away by both her and Art.
You knew that because he’d just told you. It was the first thing he’d said to you when you’d let him into your room fifteen minutes earlier.
Now, you were both sitting on the scratchy carpet of your dorm, passing a bottle of vodka between the two of you. 
You felt bereft. Your body wracked with sympathetic pain for the grief in your mind. You’d lost Tashi today, you knew that. And the man that had caused it, was a man you’d spent years yearning for. 
Art hadn’t only taken Tashi from you, but he’d violently ripped himself away too.
“Art wasn’t lying.” Patrick grumbles after taking another hearty gulp of vodka. 
“Please, don’t.” You beg wearily, taking the vodka from his outstretched hand and pressing it to your lips. Not even the burn of the spirit going down your throat registers.
“I wanted- want, both of you. You and Tashi.” 
He isn’t drunk, only tipsy, but he’s getting there, and his words are sluggish, laced with fury. 
“Shut up, Patrick.”
You fall down onto your back, resting the vodka bottle on your stomach, holding it by the neck as you stare up at the ceiling. 
Patrick has been sitting opposite you, but he moves languidly forward, crawling up over your body. He braces one knee beside your hip as the other slots between your legs. 
You blink up at him as one of his hands rests beside your head and the other falls over your own where it still holds the vodka bottle. You let him take it from you, placing it beside your body before the hand then moves to rest on the other side of your head. 
You’re now trapped beneath him, his lithe body hovering just above yours.
When he leans in, his alcoholic breath almost sears your skin as his lips brushed the shell of your ear. 
“Sometimes, when we were fucking I would imagine that you were with us.” Patrick’s teeth nip at your ear. “I asked her once, you know, and she slapped me. Called me a pig. I think she was just mad because she liked having you to herself. You were such a devoted acolyte, kissing the ground she walked on—“
Fury bursts within you like a solar flare, red-hot and ruinous. He was talking about her in the past tense, as if she was dead to both of you already.
Art groans in pain when you knee him in the balls. You use the chance to shove him off you and he falls to the side, knocking the bottle of vodka over. 
As you stand up, you feel the alcohol seeping into the carpet at your feet. 
“You are a pig.” You hiss down at him.
 It’s your room, but you find yourself storming towards the door. 
You don’t get far before Patrick recovers, clambering to his feet and easily closing the distance with his long legs. 
You groan in frustration as he presses you into the door, one hand above your head and the other wrapping around your torso, his fingers dangerously close to brushing your breasts over your tank top. 
“If I’m a pig, why did you let me in?” He pressed his face into your neck and breathes you in.
 Some of the vodka has evidently soaked into his shirt, because the scent seizes you with the same violence with which he had. It’s a secondary intoxication. 
You words come out weakly, and you hate that it’s because you’re using so much energy fighting the urge to press back into him:
“I felt sorry for you.”
Patrick laughs. 
The smug bastard actually laughs right into your skin, the vibrations travelling all the way down to where your body has begun to ache the most. 
“Oh, sure.” He coos patronisingly. “It definitely wasn’t because you’ve wanted to fuck me for years.”
You should fight him, but you don’t want to. 
You should protest when the hand that he has pressed to the door moves to pull down one of the straps of your tank top. But you simply don’t want to.  You want him. 
Art had been right about both of you.
No sooner has the thin strip of fabric been removed from your shoulder, than Patrick is clamping his teeth down on the exposed flesh. You yelp in surprise, the pain a burst of sordid pleasure. 
Patrick laughs again, the hand he has pressed to your stomach pulling you flush against him. You can feel his need for you pressing into your backside, but in case you had somehow missed it, he bucks his hips up into you. 
You gasp and he laughs again, his tongue now running over the aggravated skin where his teeth have left a dent.
“We both know what this is.” He goads.
“And what is it?” You ask teasingly, your head now thrown back and resting against his chest. He groans into your neck as you grind yourself back onto him. 
“Inevitable.”
“Are you just doing this to get back at them?” You ask, not daring to speak their names. 
An angry grumble you can’t quite make sense of tears out of Patrick’s throat just before he is forcefully spinning you around. 
You get barely a glimpse of his feral smirk before he is easily picking you up again and throwing you over his shoulder. The slap he delivers to your ass is punishing and stings furiously as he practically throws you down onto the carpet.
The bed is right next to you, but the asshole apparently wants you on the scratchy carpet and with a wet patch where the vodka has soaked in.
“I’m doing this, because I have wanted to fuck you, from the moment I saw you dancing at that party.”
 You’ve barely got your breath back after being thrown about, when he is grabbing your calf and yanking you down so that you’re laying completely flat beneath him. 
“But you only ever pursued Tash-“ 
He cuts you off from saying her name by leaning down and pressing his mouth to your still clothed breast. His tongue swirls over the fabric, your nipple growing pert. 
When his knee presses up between your legs, parting them forcefully, your head falls back, strands of your hair wetted by the spilt alcohol. 
When Patrick bites down on your chest far too hard, your hand instinctively comes up to slap the side of his head.
 You’re so shocked by your own burst of violence that you go still at exactly the same time as Patrick, both of you breathing furiously. When he does peer up at you, his dark curls slick against his increasingly sweaty forehead, menace dances in his eyes. 
“Do that again.” 
You wish you could have feigned confusion or indignation for even a moment, but your blood is pumping to all the right places to urge you to make terrible, delightful decisions.
 Your second slap connects cleanly with his cheek, your palm tingling with the force as his head spins to the side. 
Your handprint is already a pink mark on his skin when he wraps his arms around your torso, lifting you up just enough so that he can pull your tank top off and throw it to the side. Your chest is left bare to him and he wastes no time before peppering kisses to your sternum, to your breasts and your neck, his arms still wrapped around you, his nails digging into your back. 
The throbbing ache between your legs becomes far too much to bear, so you curl your fingers into his hair and forcefully tug him away from your chest- a bead of saliva stretching between your flushed skin to his swollen lips. 
You lean your head forward, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting, pulling at it until he groans pathetically. You let him go, beyond pleased when you don’t have to tell him what you want next. 
You don’t want to wait any longer. You haven’t slept with anyone since you met him and Art. 
Art.
 Is it wrong that as Patrick pushes your back into the carpet and pulls down your sweatpants and underwear in one clean tug, that you close your eyes and briefly imagine that it’s Art instead?
You might have found an answer if you had more time, but when you open your eyes, Patrick is over you, his shorts and boxers already discarded alongside your clothes. His shirt is still on, but neither of you have the patience for the second or so it would take to get it off him. 
Patrick smirks down at you before pressing two of his fingers into your mouth, you open gladly, your eyes locked onto each other as he swirls them around. When he’s satisfied, he pulls his fingers out, and then licks his own hand, mixing himself with you. 
He swipes his wet hand over your already slick core a few times before he’s pressing himself inside of you. Your arms curl around his neck as you wrap your legs around his waist. 
“Fuck.” He groans, his tongue licking up the side of your neck as his hips begin to move. 
“Patrick.” You plead, your fingers digging into the nape of his neck. 
He knows what you want, nipping at your neck before he is driving into you with bruising force. 
In that moment, as you’re joined in the way you’ve wanted since the moment you’ve set eyes on him, you realise thar Tashi isn’t the only person that can make you feel real. 
As Patrick drives into you–his lips and teeth leaving marks on your flesh that will be wine-dark by morning, and the horrible fabric beneath you leaving carpet burn on your back– you finally know more than tennis can make you feel alive. 
The sex is forceful and punishing, but fuelled by a genuine passion. Nothing but your intermingled breaths and the sound of your joined bodies fills the room. 
If the two of you hadn’t been so lost to your pleasure, you might have heard Art knocking on your door. But you didn’t. 
He did however hear the two of you, so he walked away. 
You wouldn’t speak to him or Tashi again for over ten years.
━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━
You weren’t in New Rochelle to compete. You didn’t need to. You were on the top of your game, ranked the third best female player in the world. 
No, you were in New York because despite your better judgement-- and the many years that had passed since you’d last seen him--when Patrick Zweig had called you, you’d answered. 
You hadn’t heard his voice since you had told him that for your own sanity, you couldn’t see him anymore.
For the two years you had been together after Tashi had banished you both from her life, you had let Patrick consume you. And you had never played tennis so poorly in your life. 
You hated what that said about you, that you had willingly discarded someone you had genuinely cared for to improve your ability to hit a ball. But hitting that ball was what kept you alive, not him. 
Not only that, it hadn’t taken you long to realise that you didn’t love Patrick enough to let him affect your career.
And yet when he had called, you’d answered. And when he’d told you that Art Donaldson had entered the Challenger as a wildcard, you both knew that you would come. 
From the moment you had booked the flight, to the first step you’d taken into the hotel, you had lied to yourself that you were only coming for the closure that you hadn’t received as a twenty year old. 
But when you stepped into the hotel lobby and saw Tashi disappearing into the nearby elevator, your self-deception shattered. 
You were here because still, after all the time that had passed, you ached for the way that you had felt when she had been in your life. You missed her. And you had missed Art. 
It was a sickening truth of your life, that while no one had fucked with your head or upset you as much as Art had ended up doing, no one else had ever been so attentive to you either. 
Art had watched you—watched out for you—even when you weren’t playing tennis. In fact, in moments of utter stillness, when you had been doing nothing even remotely remarkable, was when you had always caught him staring. He never shied away, or broke his gaze when he was caught, he’d just smiled as if he wanted you to know he would never feel shame for being found looking at you. 
And that had not changed.
You have been sitting at the hotel bar for ten minutes, feeling sorry for yourself and nursing the same glass of gin and tonic, when you feel someone looking at you. 
You turn your head cautiously, your shoulders sagging as your eyes meet Art’s. He’s sitting on one of the small leather couches tucked into the far corner of the darkened room. 
It had been an inevitability, but things would have been so much easier if you never came across him. 
You know you shouldn’t move- part of you had come for closure and you could get that just by watching him compete tomorrow, so you don’t need to talk to him. 
But then Art tilts his head and smiles at you like no time has passed and pats his hand on the unoccupied space beside him on the couch. 
You get down off the barstool.
 As you approach, he watches unflinchingly.
The last time you had heard Art’s voice, was when Tashi had suffered her injury and he’d been permitted to stay by her side when she had ordered you away.
And yet even after so much time, when he greets you with a quiet ‘hello’, the pathetic girl who had pined after him returns.
You don’t respond as you come to a stop right in front of him, the tips of your heels right against the toes of his shoes, but you make no move to sit down. 
It’s of course not the first time you’ve seen him since college, or been at the same event, or even in the same room- you’re both highly successful tennis players, you couldn’t help but overlap sometimes. But neither of you have ever allowed yourselves to get close, or to even speak. 
It has been over ten years of your eyes connecting through crowds and across rooms that felt much larger than they were, simply because there was distance between the two of you within them. 
Art sits forward, his forearms resting on his knees. He’s fiddling with his wedding ring and you can’t bear to look at the familiar way his fingers carry out the gesture. 
When he looks up at you, it's so open and wanting that you almost turn right back around. But then you hear his voice again.
“Can I ask you to sit with me?” 
“I don’t know Art, can you?” 
He smiles, sighing softly as he runs his hand through his hair. It’s short- much shorter than the curls he’d had at college. You like it. It suits him. 
You shift on your feet, crossing your arms across your chest to cover up your nerves. Perhaps you can protect yourself if you look like you’re closed off from him and from…whatever this interaction is about to be. 
Art doesn’t say anything else, but he surprises you by rising to his feet. You stagger back, but his hand reaches out and lands on your side to steady.
His touch lingers for a moment too long, but he does eventually pull it away.
 But he’s still close, too close.
Your hands have fallen to your sides, so it is too easy for Art to reach out and brush his fingers against yours. He doesn’t intertwine them, but he’s doing enough to let you know that it’s what he wants to do. 
He whispers your name. “Will you please sit with me?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Art.” 
“When have you ever known me to have one of those?” 
You smile ruefully, but take a step back. His hand chases you, his fingers brushing against yours again as he tries to take your hand. 
“It’s been a long time since I’ve known anything about you.” You say, hating how sad it sounds. 
You should be angry at least. His meddling and his desire for Tashi is what ripped you all apart. And he has her now. They have a daughter together.
He doesn't get to ask you for anything, not even if it’s just to sit with him. 
You can’t trust yourself to sit next to him. 
“You do know me. Time can’t change that.” He insists, quietly but firmly. 
You scoff nastily. “I knew Art Donaldson when he was in college. The world famous tennis player who does AD campaigns for sports cars with his wife, is a stranger to me.” 
“Yeah.” Art laughs darkly. “He’s a stranger to me too.” 
You frown at him, growing angry. He seems exhausted and down-trodden. He’s clearly hurting and you hate that you know that—you hate that you‘d been able to tell that even from across the bar—because it means that he’s right: you do still know him. 
“It’s late, Art. You should get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”
You turn away from him and while he doesn’t reach for you this time, he does call out. You keep you back to him as he asks his question. 
“Who do you want to win, me or Patrick?” 
“Tennis can’t decide a victor between the two of you, Art. It’s never been able to.”
When you walk to the elevator, you feel a physical strain as you stop yourself from looking back at him.
━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━
You were right, tennis couldn’t decide on a winner: it was as fickle and incomprehensible as the human heart. Which was fitting, seeing as Tashi had always described tennis as a relationship. 
You had sat only two places away from her during Patrick and Art’s match, and you know she had seen you. But there had been no reaction, her face had been impassive and set on the court, her eyes hidden behind a large pair of sunglasses. 
Now, the match was long over and a result had been given. And yet there hadn’t been a victory for anyone. Just like you knew there wouldn’t be.
Something had happened on that court between the two men, some silent, inexplicable exchange that had altered the very fabric of them.
This time, when Art knocks on your door, not only do you hear it, but you answer. 
You feel almost shocked when you pull open the door to reveal him, dressed in a grey t-shirt and flannel pyjama trousers. You’re surprised at the sight as if you hadn’t known he was coming- as if you hadn’t readily offered up your room number when he had messaged and asked for it.
You’re also somehow certain that Patrick had given him your number, but you didn’t want to dwell on what sort of exchange had led to him handing it over.
Without a word, you step away from the door, self-consciously tightening the cord that holds the silk robe around your body. You stop and face the windows.
The curtains are drawn, by you stare forward as though the whole skyline is on display to you. 
The door to your room clicks shut.
You hear Art take off his shoes before his feet are padding towards you. 
When his arms wrap around your waist, you close your eyes and savour the sensation. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, so you lift a hand and rest it on the side of his head. 
“I want to retire at the end of this year.” He says and you can feel his exhaustion in the slow breaths that coast over your neck. 
“So retire.” You answer softly, your eyes still on the curtains. “You’re tired.”
You know you don’t need to clarify. Thanks to the grateful press of his lips against your neck, you know he understands what you mean. 
Art is weary of all that he has to be when he’s playing tennis; he’s tired of the effort it takes to play the sport for not just him, but for Tashi too. His wife has been living vicariously through him. He’s been living for two people, taking the strain of two professional athletes combined. 
You know there had never been any point in competing with Art or Patrick, because Tashi would always love tennis the most. 
A shiver wracks your body as Art’s hand reaches for the bow that’s keeping your otherwise bare body concealed from him.
 “Can I?” His request is whined into your hair as he presses his face into the back of your head. 
Instead of answering verbally, you nudge his hand away and untie the robe yourself. Then, you take hold of both of his wrists and guide his hands onto your skin. You let out a sigh of relief when Art finally touches you the way you want him to. 
Your hands are still on him as his fingers move to cup your breasts, but he is the one guiding his movements now. He squeezes, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. 
“Art.” You rasp, pressing back into him wantonly. 
“Can I have you?” He asks, pressing open mouthed, hot kisses to your neck as he palms your breasts. “Please, let me have you.” 
“Stop fucking asking me and just do it.” 
You feel him grin against your neck just before he backs away, pulling back your robe and tugging it from your body.
The fabric has barely had time to pool at your feet when he’s grabbing you by the hips, his fingers digging in as he turns you. 
When Art’s lips finally claim yours, you moan unashamedly. His kiss is gentle but assured, you struggle for breath as he refuses to release you. Then, his hands are cupping your ass and he’s lifting you up. 
With his lips still moving hungrily against yours, Art settles you onto the edge of the bed. When he draws back, your lips chase after him and he smiles, grasping your face in his hands and giving you one more brief but searing kiss before he’s dropping to the ground.
 His hands press into your knees, forcing them apart as he begins to kiss and lick up your inner thighs. 
You prop yourself up on your elbows, watching where his mouth ravenously meets your flesh, tracing his path as he works his way closer to where you want him most.
When he reaches the top of your thigh, Art peers up at you through his long eyelashes, already looking drunk on you as he presses another kiss to your burning skin. 
“Lay back.” He instructs gently. 
But you’re too transfixed to listen- too desperate to see the moment his lips land on your core to look away.
He smiles at the realisation, delighting in your shudder as his tongue darts out and licks a line up your centre. 
“Oh my- fuck!” Your head falls back, already lost in the feeling of his mouth's devoted ministrations. 
As Art pleasures you, one of his hands skates up your stomach and gently presses down, asking rather than forcing you to lay back. This time you oblige, your eyes closed as your hands fist in the sheets. 
“You deserve so much more than I can give you.” 
You smile to yourself. Only Art could grovel as he gives so much pleasure.
Tightness begins to coil in your lower belly, but the moment he adds a teasing finger to his tongue’s movements, you realise you can’t wait. 
“Art- stop.” You gasp out, sitting up and resting your hands on his head. 
He halts immediately but doesn’t remove himself from between your legs. 
“Are you alright?” He asks, his hands rubbing soothingly along your thighs. 
“It’s not enough.” You say, tugging on his hair, trying to get him to come to you. “I need you.” 
Art doesn’t have to be asked twice, but he also doesn’t rush. He presses one last kiss to your now very sensitive folds before he’s climbing over you. 
You shuffle back, settling yourself onto the middle of the bed and even as Art takes off his clothes, he watches you. It’s as if he’s afraid that you’ll disappear if he so much as blinks. 
Now completely naked, he lays himself over you, his arms braced beside your head. He positions himself so carefully thar it’s almost as though he’s trying to fit himself to the shape of you- every divot and curve perfectly aligned sp that you’ll be fused together forever. 
As Art sweeps hair out from your face, his blue eyes bore down into you with an adoring intensity. 
You smile up at him and he rewards you by cradling your face in his hands, he lowers his head, his nose brushing yours as he gently takes your lower lip between his teeth.
Only when you understand what he wants and you open your mouth, does he kiss you again, his tongue delving in deeply.
As he seeks to consume you, your hands run down his back, squeezing his sides with your thighs. 
Art’s still kissing you as one of your hands reaches the curve of his arse, you dig your nails in and he jolts, his mouth moving away from yours and travelling down your neck. 
Tentatively, you move one hand around and down between his legs and when your hand wraps around him, he falters, his kisses stopping. 
“Is this alright?” 
Art moves again, licking the sweat slick expanse of skin between your breasts.
“Anything you do will be alright.” He assures, his lips brushing a nipple and making your back arch. 
“Do you want to have sex, Art?” You ask, barely restraining yourself.
His breaths are hot against your sensitive breasts when he answers. “Please.”
It is a joint effort as he slides inside of you. You gasp, arms wrapping around his neck as he presses kisses into yours.
Art groans as he begins to move achingly slowly, his hips rolling over yours with precision. 
You're happy like that for a few minutes, both of you revelling in your closeness after years subjected to absent desire for one another. But eventually, you want more.
You yearn for more force and luckily as you buck up into him, Art gets the message.
 As one of his hands moves behind your head, cradling it so that he can keep kissing you, the other wraps around your thigh, and pulls your leg higher over his hip, allowing himself to get even deeper. 
“You’re so beautiful.” He says in-between sloppy kisses, moving rapidly as you moan and whine. “You’ve always been so beautiful.”
Even with him inside you, making you feel more desired than anyone ever has, your mind drifts to that first night you had met him. The first night you had met Patrick. 
“You stared at Tashi.” You say.
You aren’t accusatory or upset, if anything the acknowledgement if it turns you on more. All four of you have always had a desire for the other, and it feels powerful to finally acknowledge it.
“-That night on the beach, you couldn't take your eyes off her. Neither of you could.” 
“I wanted you.” Art asserts with a particularly powerful thrust. “I- I wanted you so badly, but you went home.”
You nod, pulling him in for another kiss as you meet his thrusts. 
You understand his thinking. You’d often wondered how things might have changed had you not gone home early that night. If you’d stayed on the beach and then gone to their hotel room along with Tashi. 
Entirely content with just moving as one, you both fall silent and somehow Art curls over you even more tightly, like he wants his whole body to hide yours from the world. 
After you’ve both found your release he takes you into the shower and cleans himself off of your sensitive skin, each swipe of the washcloth accompanied by a kiss.
It ends up being time wasted though, because when you return to the bed, he takes you twice more.
━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━
You wake up with Art’s head resting on your bare chest. He’s laying on his side, one arm stretched out on the pillow above your head and his other hand resting on your hip. 
You’re sore in the most pleasant of ways as you sit up. You try to move slowly but Art stirs anyway, his head turning to press open mouthed kisses to your sternum. 
You rest your hand on his cheek, meaning to guide him away, but he moves so that he can kiss the palm of your hand instead. 
It’s only when you sigh into his touch, his eyes still closed as his other hand delves between your legs, that you realise why you had woken up int he first place. 
Someone was knocking on your door. 
And then you hear her voice. 
Tashi is calling out your name, sounding almost panicked.
 “Please, open the door, I know you’re in there.”
This time when you push Patrick away, he obliges, but far less quickly than you would have liked.
 In the time it takes for you to throw on your silk robe and gather up all of his clothes from the floor, he has barely got himself to stand up. He’s naked and blinking sleepily at you. 
When you shove the bundle of his clothes into his arms, he rushes to press a passionate kiss to your lips, holding the back of your head with his free hand.
You aren’t sure you want to know whether he’s truly still half asleep and genuinely hasn’t realised what is happening, or if he just doesn’t care that his wife is outside the door.
Flushed but furious at his casual demeanour, you push Art into the bathroom and close the door, just as Tashi knocks again.
 The repeated request for you to come to the door tumbles from her lips like a prayer.
You brace your hand against the door as you draw in a fortifying breath and smooth out your hair. You swear you can feel her through the door. 
The moment you open the door, Tashi is bursting in and closing it behind her. You step back, waiting for her to make the first move, for her to shout of attack or go charging into the bathroom. But she does none of those things. 
Instead, Tashi pulls you into a crushing hug. You go still, shocked but healed by it at the same time.
She pulls back, taking your face in her hands.
 “You’re a phenomenal tennis player.” Tashi says it rapturously. 
If you weren’t burning up at the feel of her hands on you, you might have laughed at how ridiculously perfect it was that those were her first words to you after over a decade. 
Tashi communicated and connected through tennis. She loved through tennis.
All you can muster is a very sincere: “Thank you.”
Tashi brushes your hair out of your face, tucking a stray piece behind your ear. You find your hands lifting, resting atop hers where they hold your cheeks.
“You need to let me coach you.” Tashi demands almost possessively.
“I have a coach.”
“They’re not me.”
“No, they’re not.”
And just like that, you were snared again. 
You had gone years without any of them, and with one word, you had allowed all three of them back into your life.
 Only this time, you know it might actually kill you if any of them leave. And perhaps it would kill them too. 
Only time would tell.
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girlgenius1111 · 2 months
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contact
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r has never been one for physical contact. she doesn't realize what she's missing until she does. barça x touch starved reader
-------
Your teammates had figured it out pretty early on. You didn’t like to be touched. It wasn’t personal, and it wasn’t something you really liked to acknowledge. It was obvious, though, in the way you tensed up whenever anyone went to hug you, or the way you sidestepped the bulk of the celebrations on the pitch. You didn’t like physical contact, and that was fine. Your teammates could respect it, even if it wasn’t what they were used to at all. The majority of them were Spanish, after all. 
It never occurred to anyone that perhaps you didn’t dislike physical contact, you just weren’t used to it. At all. You’d grown up in an incredibly not affectionate household. Your parents didn’t hug you, and you never learned anything different from that. It was hardly your only issue with them, and it didn’t even occur to you to consider it an issue. 
You’d felt like this your whole life. You thought everyone did. You thought everyone felt this empty space inside of them, longing for something you just couldn’t quite put your finger on. You ignored the way that the infrequent pats on the back and high fives seemed to frustrate this part of you more. You decided it was a negative reaction to touch, rather than one that begged for more. 
Like everyone, though, you had a breaking point. And you’d been approaching it for a long time. 
------
It wasn’t enough that you’d had an international break from hell, losing both matches despite you running yourself into the ground for a win. 
It wasn’t enough that you had to see your parents over the break. It wasn’t enough that they were uncaring and dismissive of everything you said, that they treated seeing you like an obligation rather than something they were excited about. 
It had been a long couple weeks, to say the least. And yet, everything you’d dealt with apparently wasn’t enough. 
As the defender plowed into you again, you wondered what you’d done to deserve this. No one had left you alone today. You’d been violently tackled, shoved, pulled, and stepped on more times than you could count today and you were at your limit. Everyone could see it, too, in the way you robotically got to your feet, blinking hard, trying to brush off this blow too. 
You missed Jona’s eyes on you, and the looks he exchanged with his coaching staff. You were supposed to play the full 90, and it was only the 70th minute. It was clear, though, that you couldn’t take any more battering, not that you’d ever admit that. 
When you heard the whistle signaling the subs were allowed to come on, you looked over, a bit surprised to see your number on the screen. You should have been relieved, probably, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were letting the team down. You jogged off, accepting the high fives Mariona offered you, though you ignored the way the contact almost brought you to tears right there. 
You walked over to Jona, as he’d called you over, even though you wanted nothing more than to disappear into the locker room and have a few minutes to yourself. 
“Are you okay?” He asked kindly. “Do you need to get checked out?” 
“No, I’m fine. Just a bit sore.” You dismissed. 
Jona sent you a sympathetic smile. “You can head back in if you want. Let someone know if you need ice.” 
With that, you turned towards the locker room and headed inside. The next hour was something of a blur. You showered and got dressed, before heading out to the bus. You were quick enough that you didn’t have to interact with any of your teammates, and theoretically, you could have let yourself have a few moments. Something inside of you wouldn’t allow that, though. You were forcing yourself not to cry on instinct, but the more you sat by yourself, the worse you felt. About yourself, about how you’d been playing. Everything. It was overwhelming, and the minutes sped by until it could have been minutes or hours. You didn’t really care how long it had been. You just wanted to go home, so you could feel what you needed to feel, all by yourself, like you were supposed to. 
-------
You were too wrapped up in your thoughts, and trying not to cry, to notice that your teammates had started to file onto the bus. Esmee headed for you, both of you preferring to sit in silence on the way back from matches, while some of your teammates preferred to be a bit louder. As she got closer, though, she noticed the way you were sitting, all curled into yourself, practically a ball in your seat, and the way your entire body seemed tense. You were good friends, you and Esmee, but the girl felt wholly unequipped to deal with how upset you seemed. Thinking for a minute, she decided someone else would be able to deal with this better, so she turned around, ignoring the odd looks she got from everyone she’d passed on her way back to you. 
Esmee was still rather shy with the older girls, although they’d been nothing but nice to her. Even though she felt a little awkward, she walked right over to where Alexia was sitting, chatting quietly with Patri. 
“Alexia?” She said quietly, not wanting to interrupt the question but not really sure that she had any other choice. 
The captain turned to her, though, always a bit amused by how nervous she made Esmee, but always careful to not make her feel bad about it. “Hola Esmee.” Alexia greeted with a smile. 
“Hola,” Esmee replied. She looked back at you anxiously, and followed her gaze, sitting up a bit in the seat to look back at you, too. “Um… something isn’t right with her. She seems really upset. I didn’t really know…” 
Alexia’s brows furrowed, mentally cursing herself for not thinking to check on you before now. The team had noticed how tense and off you’d seemed after the international break, but they thought you’d relax after a game back with the team. Clearly not. 
“Thank you, Esmee, I’ll check on her, vale?” 
Esmee nodded gratefully, stepping aside to let Alexia out of her seat, taking an empty one across the aisle. She appreciated that Patri gave her a quiet compliment on the game she’d had, before pulling out her phone, and allowing Esmee the silence that the Spaniard knew she always sought after a match. 
-------
You were still completely oblivious, starting to get a little worried that you were going to cry right there on that bus, as opposed to once you’d arrived home, like you wanted. Crying in front of your teammates was the last thing you wanted to do, but you knew you weren’t going to be able to avoid it when Alexia slid into the seat next to you. 
“Pequeña? What’s going on?” Alexia asked softly, noticing the way you refused to meet her eyes, your gaze fixed on your hands fidgeting in your lap. 
You shrugged, for a minute unable to speak in fear that a sob would escape instead of words. “Long day.” You managed eventually. 
Alexia nodded slowly. “Long couple weeks, no?” 
“Yeah.” You said, clearing your throat as your voice cracked rather pathetically. 
“Can I do anything?” Alexia asked almost helplessly. You looked so upset, so fragile, and she wasn’t sure how to help without touching you. She knew she always liked a hug after a rough day, but you were so different, and normally shied away from contact like that. 
“I don’t know.” You said, wiping roughly at your face as a few tears escaped, the kindness from your captain not helping you keep it together. You wanted her to be able to help, but you weren’t confident she’d be able to. 
“Do you want some space?” Alexia asked, even if the idea of leaving you alone like this made her want to cry herself. 
You were used to dealing with your emotions yourself, but somehow, at the moment, you weren’t really embarrassed that Alexia was seeing you like this. You weren’t quite sure what you wanted, but you knew you didn’t want her to go. “No, please stay.” 
“Nena… can I give you a hug?” Alexia asked after a minute, in a way that made it clear she wouldn’t be upset no matter how you responded. 
What did you have to lose at this point? You were pretty sure you couldn’t feel worse. So, for once, you did the opposite of what you thought you should do, and nodded hesitantly. 
It was instinctual for Alexia, and surprisingly for you, too. You were tense for just a second when she wrapped her arms around you, gently pulling you in closer to her. After a second, though, your body seemed to move of its own accord, completely melting into the arms of your captain. 
You were crying before you could stop yourself, clinging tightly onto Alexia’s sweatshirt. It wasn’t bad crying, per say. It was cathartic. You thought briefly that this was the safest and most comforted you’d ever felt. Still, you tried to keep the volume down, not wanting to attract attention to the fact that you were sobbing into your captain’s sweatshirt. 
“It’s okay, nena, just let it out.” Alexia whispered, her chin resting on top of your head. She rubbed your back softly, hating the way you trembled against her. She’d never seen you this upset before, but the way you leaned into her told her that this had been coming for a while. It also told her that even though you acted like you hated being touched, that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t sure why you didn’t allow it to happen, but it was clear you had needed it. “You are safe, nena. You are okay.” 
Her words felt like a soft blanket being wrapped around your shivering body, and you felt that empty space inside yourself feel full for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever. 
It made her heart hurt that she hadn’t thought to check on you, really check on you these past couple weeks. She had assumed that because you never talked about how you were feeling, you didn’t need to. She’d never considered that you did want to, and need to, but you were too afraid to do so. She made herself a promise to keep a closer eye on you. And to give you more hugs. 
Even when you’d stopped crying, and the bus had begun to move, Alexia didn’t let go. She kept you firmly in her arms, your head resting on her chest. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, either, even though you knew you should. 
You couldn’t help but feel sad when the bus pulled into the Barça parking lot. You’d acted completely ridiculously, and something like this could never happen again. You weren’t a child, you were an adult. The thought of removing yourself from your captain’s arms, though, felt physically painful, and you almost wished it hadn’t happened in the first place. Because now you knew what you were missing, and it would be near impossible to not let yourself seek it out again in the future. 
------
You showed up to the recovery session the next day on a mission. You were going to apologize to Alexia for what had happened yesterday, and promise that it wouldn’t happen again. You weren’t going to cry and you were not going to act any differently than normal. You couldn’t let anyone see you as this pathetic person who was barely hanging on. You were strong and capable and independent. You were an adult, and emotions were to be felt by yourself. Hugs were for children, you reminded yourself, and you hadn’t needed one of those in a while. Or maybe, you just hadn’t gotten one in a while. Regardless,  by the end of today, you were dead set on making sure everyone who saw you so upset yesterday would know that it was a one time occurrence. 
Alexia had other plans. You really should have given up immediately upon seeing the determination on her face when she pulled you aside right before the film review session, but you were stubborn if nothing else, and you tried to remain as cool and calm as you could. 
Even when she led you to one of the lounge areas, and took a seat on the couch next to you. Even when she squeezed your shoulder supportively, and all you wanted to do was launch yourself across the couch at her, and curl up against her like you had yesterday. You couldn’t. You couldn’t. 
“I wanted to check on you after yesterday,” Alexia said gently, as if she knew you wanted to avoid this conversation. It didn’t matter that your captain hadn’t seemed to mind yesterday, your behavior still wasn’t okay, not at all. 
“I’m sorry for how I acted. It won’t happen again.” You said stiffly, ignoring the sympathetic expression on Alexia’s face. It made her so sad that you felt you had to apologize for showing emotion. 
“You do not need to be sorry.” Alexia said definitively. “You were upset, it is okay to be upset, pequeña.” 
“I shouldn’t have cried in front of everyone, and I shouldn’t have made you sit with me.” You insisted. 
The older woman frowned. “Why do you think either of those things were not okay?” Alexia wondered, choosing her words very carefully. 
“I am an adult, Alexia, I am not supposed to act like a child.” You argued, not really sure what she wasn’t understanding. 
Alexia knew she wasn’t the most emotionally available person, but she at least knew that it was okay to cry, and it was okay to need comfort sometimes. She wasn’t really sure why you didn’t seem to get that. 
“I do not know who told you that crying and needing comfort is for children, but they are wrong. You can always come to me, or any of the girls, when you are upset, no matter what you need. None of us will think any less of you. We are teammates, and friends, and we are here for you. Understand?” 
You were surprised at her words, and more surprised that they made sense. You knew who had told you those things, and you wondered why you had believed them on this, when you were normally so careful to take what they said with a grain of salt. Very suddenly, you realized you couldn’t remember the last time your parents had given you a hug, and things started to make more sense. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for you, realizing that something they had done was not normal, but this was a realization that made you a bit more emotional than the others. 
“Are you sure? I don’t want to annoy anyone.” You replied quietly, looking down at your feet and away from Alexia’s kind eyes. 
Your captain shook her head firmly. “You could never annoy us.” 
Slowly, you nodded, accepting Alexia’s outstretched hand as she stood up and pulled you to your feet as well. 
You moved to walk back to the media room, but Alexia pulled you back, a small smile on her face. “Hug?” She asked, opening her arms for you. “It has been a stressful day. One of my teammates does not understand how much we all love her and it makes me very sad.” 
You rolled your eyes, feeling something deeply happy and hopeful bloom inside of you. You accepted the hug, falling into Alexia’s arms, squeezing her tightly. “She knows. I think she just forgets sometimes.” You murmured, your voice muffled in Alexia’s training top. 
“Well, we will just have to remind her then, yes?” Alexia said, voice filled with determination. 
And remind you, they did.
------
Their reminders, often unspoken squeezes of the shoulder and encouraging words, worked well. It wasn’t an immediate change, but rather a slow one. There were signs that you were opening up more. Everyone felt an inexplicable sense of pride when you did reach out to one of them, whether physically or more emotionally. 
The first time was when Mapi returned to training with the team for the first time. She had greeted everyone with a hug, turning to you and holding up her hands for high fives. She had long accepted that you didn’t like to be hugged, and she’d been relatively absent in the time that had begun to change. 
She was floored when you ignored her hands in favor of wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug. It only took a second before she was returning the gesture, though she looked in surprise towards Alexia, who just smiled back at her. Two big steps were taken that day, and Alexia wasn't sure she could pick which made her happier. You were sure that Mapi’s comeback was the highlight of the week for everyone, while Mapi was pretty sure your hugs brought good luck, because training went perfectly, for you two especially. Or maybe, the joy on both of your faces lit up the pitch, and made everyone play better. Happiness was odd like that, sometimes. Contagious and healing. Barça was a place of happiness, you decided. And of healing. 
------
i know a lot of you were excited about this one, so i hoped it lived up to your expectations :)
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Of Oblivious Minds (2)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst!! More pining and yearning
a/n: Here is part two! I love writing this little series :) There will definitely be more! let me know what you think ♡♡
Part 1, Part 3
~~
Sometimes you hated being a scholar. 
There were plenty of upsides to having such a cushy job, especially when your employer was the high lord himself. You got paid generously, got free access to the best libraries, and never had to pay rent. Millions of fae would kill to have your position. 
But as Cassian punched you in the ribs—for the third time—you found yourself questioning your role within the night court’s inner circle.
“Okay,” you breathed out, hunching over with a hand cradling your side. “Okay, please, Cass. Can we take a break?” 
Unfortunately, Cassian didn’t appreciate quitters. So, your feet were abruptly swept from under you and your back made contact with the floor. With a soft oof, the wind was knocked from your lungs. 
“C’mon, y/n, you’re better than that. I know you are.” 
You responded with a wheeze, blinking into the pale sun. 
This morning had been rough.
You’d been having some trouble sleeping, but that wasn’t necessarily unusual. Being alive for so long meant you had seen quite a few things, so nightmares came and went with the tide. You were going through a rough patch with them at the moment, and the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with you.
“You planning on laying there for the rest of the day?” Cassian asked, his large silhouette coming to block the light. 
You squinted up at him. “Maybe.” 
“Yeah, not happening.” 
You fought back a whine as the Illyrian pulled you up by your shoulders and steadied you. He nodded, giving you a moment to ready yourself back into position, and then bent his knees. Gods, you were going to be so sore later. 
It didn’t take long for you to end up on the floor again, this time on your stomach. Your chin cracked against the padded ring, your teeth snapping together at the impact. The sound made your brain vibrate as you rolled onto your side and held your temple. 
Cassian crouched down to the floor beside you and you could make out his worried brow amidst the shakiness of your vision. 
“What’s going on with you?” He brought his hand up to brush against your already bruising jaw. “We’ve been working on that move for weeks. You had it a few days ago.” 
You breathed through your nose and tried not to groan at the ache rolling through your body. “I think I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping very well.” 
At that, Cassian plopped down to a seat, keeping a hand at your elbow as you brought your own body up to mirror his. 
“You want to talk about it?” he questioned. 
“There isn’t much to say. I can’t remember them this time. It’s kind of strange—usually I remember them too much and that’s what makes it worse.” 
Cassian hummed in contemplation. He was always the one you went to the morning after a sleepless night. Cassian would listen as you talked through your nightmares, and you would do the same for him. He was a logical pillar in your life. 
But it was always Azriel you went to in the midst of them. You never talked about what you saw and he never asked. But it was always Azriel in the middle of the night. His shadows were a comfort in the pitch black and he was always quick to wrap his wings around you when it became too hard to breathe. 
You hadn’t gone to him these last few times.
The fact that you couldn’t remember your dreams was an unfortunate factor. Because if you knew what was causing you to wake up in a cold sweat every night, at least then you could talk about it. Or take a moment to rationalize. 
There was no rationalizing when the only thing you had to go off of was fear and hurt. 
“What does Azriel think?” Cassian asked after a small lapse in silence.
“What do you mean?” 
“Well, when you go to his room at night. What does he have to say about you not remembering?” 
You scoffed. And then scoffed again. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about, I barely do that.” 
Cassian stared at you with a blank expression. “So we’re still doing that then. Got it.” He heaved himself up from the ground and then yanked you up alongside him.
“Still doing what?” you asked, trailing behind him as he reached for his canteen. He didn’t answer you, favoring the long gulps of water he was taking. You waited for him to finish and then asked again. He chose to unwrap his knuckles instead. “Cassian.” 
The man sighed. “Nothing, y/n. It’s just… It wasn’t a secret that you would go to his room after you had a rough night. Why do you think I never dragged you out here those mornings?” You cringed at his words. He shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Why do you hide it?” 
You didn’t have a good reason—well, you didn’t used to. You’d always sneak out of his room after the sun rose and never bring it up again. And there was never a solid explanation for why you evaded the topic. You knew Azriel would never hold it against you and you weren’t embarrassed for others to know that you sought out comfort in a friend. It just seemed like something you should keep to yourself. 
Now, though—now there was a good reason to wipe your actions from memory. To pretend they never happened and to never repeat them. 
“Cassian, Elain is my friend. Even if I did that in the past—in a friendly way—it would be wrong now.” 
A muscle in Cassian’s jaw twitched. “Right. Have you ever actually talked to Elain about her feelings?” 
“I don’t need to.” You reached down for your own water, ignoring the twinge in your side and the pulsing in your head. “She never stops talking about him. And they’re always together. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already seeing each other.” 
“Who’s seeing each other?” 
The cool tone of Azriel’s voice washed over you and you whipped around to find him standing at the foot of the training ring, blades in hand. 
A nervous laugh fell from your lips and you fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. “Um, no one, just some friends I know.” 
“Who?” he asked again. 
“Oh, you don’t know them. Old friends.” 
The Shadowsinger raised a brow, sending Cassian a fleeting look. “I thought I knew all of your friends.” 
“You don’t. I know way more people than you. Even though you're older than me. Not by that much, though. Have you talked to Elain lately?” Words were spewing from your mouth in the worst combinations. You were never nervous around Azriel. What in the cauldron was wrong with you?
Azriel’s raised brow turned into a furrowed one and he blinked, assessing your face with a scrutinizing gaze. “Do you have a concussion?” He turned the Cassian, expression going from confused to provoked. “Did you give her a concussion?” 
“Honestly, maybe.” 
“I don’t have a concussion,” you rushed out, cutting off Cassian’s admission. “I was just leaving though. I’m tired. You guys can fight each other.” 
There was so much sudden pent-up energy inside of you that you had no intention of sleeping, but just seeing Azriel made you feel like you were intruding on something. Which was absurd. Azriel was your friend and had been your friend for centuries. Just because he loved Elain didn’t mean you had to avoid him. 
But this energy had to come from somewhere, and that somewhere was telling you to avoid him like the Illyrian flu. 
Making a break for it, you freed yourself from the training ring and attempted to skate past Azriel with a quick side smile, but he apparently had other plans. He caught your wrist as you walked past, glancing up at a “preoccupied” Cassian before turning to you with his wing out, giving the illusion of a private conversation. 
“You’re not sleeping well?” he asked, voice low. 
You warped your smile into one that met both sides of your mouth. “I’m okay.” 
Shadows crept over his shoulders and along his ears. His expression shifted and pinched and then returned neutral. “You know you can come to me if you need it.” 
“I’m okay, Az. Really.” 
“Would you tell me if you weren’t?”
Maybe before. 
“I’m a paper pusher, Az. I’m not out in the throes of battle,” you jested, scrunching your nose as you smiled up at him. “Nothing is that serious for me.” 
A lie. Something was that serious—serious enough to keep you up at night for the past week—but you couldn’t figure out what it was. 
“That is not what I asked,” he countered, sliding his hand up from your wrist to turn your chin. “You need to ice your jaw. Cassian shouldn’t be so rough with you.” 
“I’m okay,” you said again, words a pathetic repetition because your heart was beating so fast now and you needed to leave. Something was pulling at your chest and you needed to leave. 
“As you’ve said,” Azriel muttered, his fingers brushing down along the column of your throat. When his eyes flickered up and met your own, something inside of you lost its alignment.
You looked away before the feeling could return. Everything righted itself. You took a wobbly step back. 
“Have a good training session.” 
You turned on your heel and stalked away, feeling equal parts the betrayer and the betrayed. 
~~
“You mean that girl off-continent? The one from a century ago?” 
Cassian hummed. “Yeah, her. What I wouldn’t give for a visit from her.” 
“You’re a pig,” Mor replied, a scoff sharp on her lips.
“She didn’t think so.” 
You were eavesdropping. You didn’t like to, but somehow, in the time you’d spent in the inner circle, you’d picked up the habit. Oops.
Technically, you weren’t really eavesdropping. You had been in the room first. It wasn’t your fault Cassian and Mor decided to speak very loudly with only a few shelves separating you. If they wanted privacy they should have checked the area. 
“Is it that hard for you to get laid? You have to search off-continent?” 
Cassian’s responding laugh was almost defensive. “I’m sure you’d love to know about my sex life.” 
“I really wouldn’t, actually. You brought it up.” Mor paused. You heard her shift on the lounge chair. “I am, however, interested in Azriel’s.” 
“Aren’t we all,” Cassian droned. “Pretty obvious that he doesn't have one at the moment. Hasn’t had one in a while.” 
You felt your neck jolt at the reveal of that information. Azriel always kept his partners discrete, but you’d always known he’d had them. Many of them. You had no idea who they were or where he met them, but you would hear the girls occasionally... smell their perfume on a few rare nights. 
“You think? This whole time?” Mor asked, curiosity raising her voice an octave. 
“Mor, I think the sight of other females makes him want to vomit.” 
The book in your lap was all but obsolete. 
“Don’t be so dramatic.” 
Cassian tsked. “I’m not. He’s told me.” 
“I suppose that’s what having a mate does to a person.” 
Your fingers became abnormally cold, the center of your chest caving slightly.
Azriel had a mate? No, he would have told you.
He would have told you. 
Mor’s sweet voice slammed against your ears, harsh despite its nature. “Do you think he’ll tell her soon?” 
Cassian’s reply had you standing on shaking knees. “Hope so. He’s so in love with her it's suffocating. You should see when—” 
You were out of the room in a wisp, sliding out the small back door. The book you’d been reading was still clutched in your frozen grip and you held it against your chest as breathing became impossible. With a hand pressed to the wall and your head hung low, you sucked in air, greedy for some type of reprieve. 
You were happy for him. You were so, so happy for him. 
Right? 
The book fell from your grip, clattering to the floor. The pages collapsed in on themselves as it fell face down, and you listened to the paper crumple as your throat closed. Both hands now pressed to the cold wall. Why were you freezing? 
This made sense. It made sense. 
Of course Azriel had a mate and of course it was… Elain? 
No, it couldn’t be Elain. Elain was Lucien’s mate. 
Now you were confused as well as consumed. Your body was left aching from training and your mind was in a frenzy and you couldn’t even understand why you were reacting the way you were. 
It was completely plausible that Azriel had a mate and didn’t tell anyone about it. He was a private male who kept his lovers to himself, so of course he would keep his mate to himself as well. But he did tell someone about it. He told Cassian. And Mor knew. 
Your fingernails dug into stone.
Azriel didn’t love you. 
The thought came on so suddenly that you almost looked over your shoulder. It was as if the words had been whispered in your ear by some cruel, vicious wind. 
You had never cared if Azriel loved you before, because you knew that he did love you. Like a sister. You were Azriel’s family and he was yours. 
But as the thought of Azriel having a mate invaded your mind once more, your shaky legs propelled you forward, running from the creased book and the hallway that contained all of the worst things. 
You ran until you couldn't, until your toes hit the edge of the balcony on the far side of the house and the cool air of winter hit your cheeks. You had been so cold inside, but somehow the breeze felt even colder across your skin. 
“Y/n?” 
You gasped, whipping around and gripping the railing as it pressed into your spine. You couldn’t formulate words as Azriel stood before you. His hands raised up to his waist, reaching for you as he took in the way your chest heaved.
“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” he rushed. 
You only shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Embarrassment and confusion and a twisted sort of fear coursed through you. You couldn't look at him, afraid you would somehow see the bond connected to his chest—somehow notice things about him you hadn’t before. Maybe another shade of hazel in his eyes or a softness to his lips that you had never looked for. 
As you considered it now, it was obvious that you’d never let yourself look. 
Azriel was never supposed to be yours. 
“Talk to me, angel.” Azriel’s sweet whisper brushed against your skin. He was so close to you. You could feel him, but you refused to look. 
To see how everything had changed. 
“Let me fix it.” 
You heard the rush of wind from his wings as he expanded them outwards, followed closely behind by the whirling of his shadows, and it all clicked then. 
The images came quickly, dissipating just as fast. But they did their job, sending heavy, hot tears past the tight scrunch of your eyelids. 
Azriel with Elain. Azriel with Mor. Azriel with random, faceless women.
Him, in every iteration, with everyone that wasn’t you. 
That’s what had kept you up—the dreams plaguing your every resting moment. And you realized then that nothing had really changed at all. That you’d been in love with Azriel for longer than you’d been in love with anything. 
Your jaw trembled, your body rejecting the anguish that swept through you. Wind softly flowed from the west, swaying your skirts with a gentleness that made your breath shudder. That kind of gentleness was impossible. The world felt so cruel. 
“Y/n, tell me what happened. Should I get someone else?” Azriel pleaded. “Should I get Rhys?” 
Rhys could knock you out, and that would surely be a relief. You felt paralyzed by this overwhelming array of devastation. But Rhys would also have access to your thoughts. 
You shook your head. “No,” you said, but the word was lost in the wind. Azriel seemed to hear it anyway. “No, I want—I need to—go to sleep.” 
“You need to go to sleep?” He touched you now, something he seemed to have been avoiding. His hands came to rest behind your neck, thumbs at your jaw, and you pried your eyes open at the contact. You’d never seen the shadowsinger look so ruined, his hair askew, his eyes wild and panicked. “That doesn’t make any sense.” 
His expression was beseeching you for something you couldn’t give him. You hiccuped your next words out. 
“I’m—’m tired.” 
You wished you’d stayed oblivious. That you had never become privy to the depth of your feelings. 
This pain was immeasurable.
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Text
✨Feathers✨
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Hey hey hey, I’m back! Took a tiny break but I had another idea for a spicy Luci scenario! But this one is super tender cuz Luci needs some TLC like nobody's business! 🥺
This turned out a little more dom!reader then initially planned but I'm happy about it
Big thank you to some of the anons I received for the ideas! I very much appreciate everyone who's given anything I've written their love!
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: Lucifer's wings are not in the greatest shape, you offer to help clean them...
Warnings: 18+, smut, handjob, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, cockwarming, dom!reader and sub!lucifer if you squint
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It had been a pretty quiet day in house. Lucifer was off with his daughter Charlie for the day, they’ve had quite a bit of father/daughter bonding to catch up on. But this gave you the chance to work on something that you’ve been wanting to make for some time now. It was a secret project, keeping things from Lucifer was harder than it seemed. But with the home to yourself, you were finally able to finish the gift you wanted to give him! Just as you were admiring your work, a portal opened up behind you; Lucifer was back! Quickly, you hid his gift under your pillow before he could see anything. Lucifer stepped through the portal and into your bedroom; you noticed his wings spread out behind him.
“Hi, honey,” you greeted as you walked over to him, planting a small peck on his forehead. He smiled, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it in return. “How was your day with Charlie?”
“It was really nice! We went for a little flight, as you can tell,” he laughed, gesturing to his wings. Lucifer’s wings always left you in awe, you couldn’t help but stare at them. But upon further inspection, you saw that they seemed a little worse for wear. You wondered when the last time they were properly taken care of, since you've never seen him actually do anything with them.
“Hey Luci, your wings are looking a little…” you hesitated, looking for the right word, “disheveled. Is everything alright?”
"Ahh," Lucifer sighed, "yeah, I uhh...I'll admit, I haven't paid them much attention. Not in a long while."
You knew that he had been by himself for a long time before you came along. He had mentioned his battles with self isolation and depression that he had fought against for years, but he was never too keen on going into more detail than necessary. Looking back, it would make sense as to why his wings are in the state that they are. It saddened you, you wished you could have been there for him. It was time to make up for that.
"How about this," you proposed, "why don't I run us a bath and I'll help you clean them up. How does that sound?"
"O-Oh, are you sure?," he questioned, failing to hide the fact that his cheeks were now flushed. "They're kind of a pain, I don't want you to-" you cut off his protests with a peck. You felt his lips curl into a smile.
"Nothing's a pain when it comes to you, Lucifer," you assured. "Go get ready and I'll see you in a few minutes, alright? Tonight, let me take care of you."
"Of course," he grinned, "thank you, my angel."
*** Lucifer saw you smile and make your way to the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. As soon as the door closed, he let out a long sigh. It really had been years since he’s taken care of his wings. It was a lot easier when there was someone there to help. When Lilith left, it became a much more daunting task. He began to undo his button up shirt, tossing it onto the bed and moved on to undoing his belt. But suddenly, he stopped once the buckle had been unhooked. Shit, he thought to himself, realizing he’d forgotten how sensitive his wings were, my wings being touched are drive me insane! I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it together, especially not after years of just letting them go! He sucked in a few deep breaths and continued removing the belt from his pants. It’s fine, it’s fine…as long as I don’t make a noise or turn around. Just focus, Lucifer. For Satan’s sake, you’re the king of Hell!
Lucifer undid his zipper, letting his pants and boxers drop to the floor and kicking them off to the side. Unfortunately, he could already feel the blood rushing between his legs in anticipation. No, no, no!, he scolded himself, we’re not doing this. We’re getting our wings washed and we’re going to bed! I’m not letting this turn into anything other than a nice bath! She CANNOT think I’m just some touch starved pervert! I’m not! He inhaled deeply and ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to calm down. After a minute, he made his way to the bathroom, placing his hand on the knob.
“I’m so fucked,” he whispered to himself before slowly opening the door.
*** It was fortunate that Lucifer had such a spacious home, that meant a more spacious bathroom as well. His bathtub could easily fit four people comfortably, but this at least gave you room to be able to work with his wings. You turned the water on to a nice warm temperature, making sure it wasn't too hot. You undressed as the bathtub began to fill, grabbing a soft washcloth from the closet and bubble bath soap after discarding your clothes. Once the tub was half full, you poured the soap in, letting it mix with the running water. The bubbles appeared fast, you couldn't see that water anymore after a few seconds. Finally, you brought the flow to a stop and dipped your toes in to test that waters. Perfect. You stepped in and slowly began to sink down into the warm liquid that heated your core. Lucky for you, his tub had seats along the sides so you could sit comfortably instead of sinking to the bottom! As soon as you were submerged just below your shoulders, you heard the bathroom door creaking behind you.
"Knock, knock!," Lucifer joked, hitting the already opened door with his knuckles. You chuckled as he closed the door behind him. Not that it was a new sight to you, but his naked figure never ceased to make you blush, as if he were perfectly sculpted. You shook your head, trying your best to focus on his face and not let your eyes wander anywhere else.
"Alright, let's see what we're working with," you stated, prompting Lucifer to conjure his wings once more. As you looked them over, you could tell it would take a little bit of time to clean them properly, but you were more than willing to help. You shifted over to the edge of the tub and offered Lucifer your hand. Smiling, he took hold as you guided him into the water with you. He sat down next you, turning his back so you could start working on his neglected feathers.
"Thank you for this," he spoke softly as you took the washcloth and began to work on his first set of wings. "I really don't deserve it, or you..."
"Luci, don't say that," you cut in, "I love you, and I want to help you. I'll always be here, I promise."
You heard him hum in response. He had a lot more feathers than you originally thought. You wanted to take your time, combing through every feather from his first set as they were the largest. You moved your attention down to his second set of wings after a few minutes. You were both quiet for a while as you continued your ministrations, running the washcloth thoroughly through each of his feathers, ridding them of any dirt. However, the sound of Lucifer's breathing becoming heavier with each passing minute did not go unnoticed by you. Wings were very sensitive areas after all. A tiny smile crept on your face. You had finally moved on to his last set of wings. They would be the easiest to take care of since they were the smallest, but you wanted to test your suspicions before you finished.
"Almost done," you hummed, "you doing alright?"
"YEAH, yeah," Lucifer answered almost too loudly, "I-I'm fine."
"That's good," you responded, gripping his feathers with just a little bit more force than necessary. You heard a small whimper escape Lucifer's throat, his hand shooting out of the water to cover his mouth. Bingo. "You sure you're alright, hon?"
"M-Mhmm," Lucifer mumbled into his palm.
"All clean," you purred, causing Lucifer's wings to disappear in a flash.
Lucifer stood up a little too fast trying to exit the tub, his back still towards you. "Thank you love, I really really appreciate you doing that for me, but I'm kind of tired so I'm gonna-" You didn't let him finish his sentence, grabbing onto his hips and pulling him into your lap, causing a large splash. "D-Darling, what are you doing?"
"And where do you think you're going?" you questioned, letting your hands run down his hips and towards his thighs. You heard Lucifer's breath hitch as your hands roamed dangerously close to his hard on. "What's the matter, baby? Were you hoping I wouldn't notice that you were getting turned on by all my touching? How cute."
You let your hand wander until you finally gripped his hardened cock. Lucifer could only let out a strangled yelp. All too pleased, you began to stroke his cock at an agonizingly slow pace. Lucifer tried to buck up at your touch, but your other arm was wrapped around his abdomen, keeping him flush to your chest. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“Now why would you try to hide this from me, Luci?,” you teased him as you began peppering kisses along the back of his neck.
“Hhng…I-I’m sorry, love,” he swallowed, “it…shit…it’s embarrassing. I shouldn’t h-have had that reaction while you were…ffffuuucckk…” He completely trailed off, only being able to focus on your movements. You had only picked up your pace slightly since you started, you wanted to make this last as long as possible. But unfortunately, you could feel your own arousal start to pulse between your legs. Without warning, you let go off his cock, causing to Lucifer to whimper at the loss of your hand. You swiftly stood up and hooked your arm under his legs, carrying him bridal style out of the tub. He looked up at you with a mixture of shock and arousal. Once you were fully out of the tub, you placed him onto the white marble floor.
"Stay," you commanded. Lucifer held his arms down at his sides, completely immobile. You sauntered over to the rack and grabbed the two fresh towels hanging there. After opening the bathroom door, you dried off your soaking body as quickly as you could before making your way back over to Lucifer with the other towel in hand. You patted his hair down first, then moved to his face and shoulders, working it down to his chest and stomach. You avoided touching the area he needed you to touch the most and finally finished by drying off his legs. "Get ready," you told him as you stood up straight once more. Before he could respond, you scooped him up in your arms again with the towel placed underneath him. You couldn't help but smile down at him once you say how flushed his face had gotten. You effortlessly carried your lover into the bedroom and placed him down on the edge of the bed. You took the towel and placed it on the floor, giving your knees some much needed cushion from the hard wooden floor.
"Sweetheart, p-please," Lucifer said, finally finding his voice again, "you don't have to-" You gently wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, cutting him off mid-sentence. He could only yelp in response.
"I told you that I would take care of you tonight, did I not?" you replied with a coy smile. "That's exactly what I intend to do."
You lowered your head and gently pressed your lips to the head of his cock which was already covered in precum. Your tongue circled the tip, causing Lucifer to grip the sheets beneath him, not being able to focus on anything else. You relaxed your jaw, forcing your mouth down onto his shaft as far as you could manage. You didn't want to choke, after all! You absolutely adored the sounds leaving Lucifer's lips, desperate moaning and incoherent babbling. You quickened your pace, your hot mouth leaving trails of saliva down your hand. You felt Lucifer's legs begin to shake.
"L-Love," he choked out, "if you don't stop, I'm g-gonna...FUCK!" You didn't stop bobbing your head up and down. If anything, it only made you work faster. You felt his hands reach out to your shoulders, seemingly trying to push you away, but he wasn't trying very hard if that was the case. You refused to budge. "OHFUCKME," was the last thing he could mutter before his orgasm hit him, spilling his hot seed into your mouth. It was salty, but not unpleasant. You kept your mouth firmly on his cock as he rode out his high. You felt him soften in your mouth and you finally removed yourself from him with a *pop*. You caught some of his cum on your finger that had leaked from your mouth, licking it clean. Lucifer caught you doing so and buried his face in his hands.
“You’re going to kill me one of these days, darling,” he mumbled.
You chuckled, pulling his hands away to see his bright yellow eyes staring back at you. “I don’t think I have that kind of power!"
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," Lucifer sighed, "my wings are very...sensitive to say the least. I completely forgot about it until it was too late. I thought I could tough it out, but umm, that's clearly not what ended up happening. I didn't want you to think I was some maniac who couldn't control himself..."
You brought your hand up to his cheek, caressing it softly with your thumb. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. " You don't have to apologize to me, Luci, it's alright," you comforted. "Besides, seeing you so worked up is extremely hot!"
"Pfft!" Lucifer laughed, picking up on your attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, I'm glad you think so! I was dying the entire time in there!"
You smiled at him and got up from your kneeled position." Do you feel better now? Got it all out of your system?”
"Not quite," he breathed.
As if to take revenge from your stunt from earlier, Lucifer grabbed you by the hips and pulled you on top of him. "HEY!," you protested, but it was already too late; your cunt that's been aching for attention was now perfectly hovered over Lucifer's maniacal grin. Without warning, he pulled your legs down towards him and began to lick up your folds vigorously. His tongue attacking your clit with every lap he took. Your arms gave out almost immediately, forcing you onto your elbows to keep yourself propped up while the dirtiest moans filled the room. "Fuck...Fuck Luci, you feel s-so good...SHIT!," you cried out. His forked tongue worked at your sensitive nub relentlessly, causing the pit in your stomach to tighten. You weren't going to last much longer at this rate, he was too good and he knew it. Every time he ate you out, he always acted like a starving man who would never taste you again. It only took a few more nibbles at your clit before your walls spasmed uncontrollably, cumming hard against his tongue. He hummed in approval as he helped you ride out your orgasm, swallowing every drop of you. You managed to crawl away from him and plopped chest down on your mattress.
"You're insatiable, aren't you, Lucifer?," you teased, still trying to catch your breath.
"And you're irresistible, aren't you, my angel?" Lucifer joked back. He sat up straight against the pillows next to where your head laid. You couldn't help but notice that he was rock hard again. It filled you with pride to know just how much tasting you on his lips could illicit such a response. A thought popped into your head at that moment, your lips forming into a devious smile. You weren't going to let him have the last word. He was done for.
You pushed yourself up from your prone position and straddled Lucifer's lap, leaning down and crashing your lips into his. He moaned into your kiss, licking across your bottom lip, almost like he was begging you for access. You opened your mouth wide and felt his tongue slip past your lips, deepening your kiss. To his dismay, you pulled away from him, panting and breathless. You lined up your entrance with his cock, sinking down onto him in one quick motion. Both of you moaned at the sensation, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. Lucifer eagerly started to buck his hips into you, but you had other plans. You let the rest of your upper body weight fall onto his hips, rendering him immobile.
"Wh-what are you doing?," Lucifer whined as he tried desperately to rut up into you to no avail. "Please...please, need to move...."
You adored him in this state, begging and pleading for you to let him chase his release. "Teaching you a lesson," you grinned, shifting your hips every so slightly and making him bury his head into the crook of your neck.
"PLEASE! Please, I'll do anything!" Lucifer begged, his breathing becoming more and more labored. "Whatever you want!"
"I want you to promise me something, Luci," you cooed, placing your hand under his chin and lifting his head to meet your gaze. "Promise me that you'll come to me if you need help from now on. And in return, I'll promise you that I'll always be there whenever you need me. Do we have a deal?"
Tears welled up in his eyes at your words and the lack of stimulation. He buried his head into your chest, wrapping his arms around you. "YesyesyesIpromiseIpromiseIwill," he sobbed. You smiled and kissed the top of his head, his blond hair brushing against your face.
"That's my good boy," you praised. You decided to end his torment by lifting your hips and slamming back down on his cock at a break neck pace. His wanton moans went straight to your core, you knew another orgasm was fast approaching. He bucked his hips up into you, his cock hitting your G spot just right with every thrust.
"So close...sososoclose," Lucifer whimpered in your ear.
"L-Let go, baby," you choked out in your cock drunken state, "c-cum in me, Luci, pleasepleasePLEASE!"
Lucifer leaned down and bit into your shoulder, muffling his cries as it only took him a few more thrusts before spilling his seed into you. His bite pushed you over the edge as well, pulsating around his leaking cock. You both took a minute to come down from your highs, neither of you wanting to pull apart. At last, you pulled yourself up and out of Lucifer's lap and completely collapsed next to him. You reached over the edge of the bed and picked up the towel from earlier, handing it to Lucifer so he could clean himself up. You were about to fall asleep when you remembered something important.
"OH!," you shouted, startling Lucifer a little bit. "I almost forgot! I made you something!" You reached under your pillow where you had hid his gift from earlier. You pulled out a small duckling keychain with the words "My Little Duckling" beneath it. You passed it to Lucifer who cupped it in his hands, staring at it like it was made of diamonds.
"You...you made this...for me?," he stammered, completely enamored with his present. He clenched his fist around it and held it up to his heart. "I...I love it so much, darling! This is the best gift I've ever received! I'll cherish this forever! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He pulled you in for the tightest hug he's ever given you while peppering small kisses all over your face. You giggled and managed to capture his lips before he could get another peck in.
"I'm really happy you like it," you smiled. "We'll figure out where you can hang it in the morning, yeah?"
"I'd love nothing more, my dear" Lucifer grinned. "But for now, let's get some sleep, shall we."
You nodded and yawned in agreement. You shifted yourself flush against Lucifer's chest, letting his arms wrap around you. You felt his tail wrap around you leg right before you lost consciousness, letting you know he would never let you go.
~~~~
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IT'S FUCKING DONE BABY, LET'S GOOOOOOOO
1K notes · View notes
palioom · 4 months
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starving
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summary: joel comes back from patrol to find you have kept your promise to him.
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
word count: 2.8k
warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; established relationship; overstimulation; orgasm denial/edging; dirty talk (joel has a filthy mouth); oral (f receiving); fingering; unprotected p in v; creampie; some softness in the end; choking (a lil)
a/n: we're back after almost a month of hiatus, with a fic also written last summer! I hope you enjoy
thank you to my love @aurasjournal for the moodboard 🖤
IMPORTANT as tlou is made by a Zionist, as well as part 2 being based on the oppression of Palestine by Israel, I urge you to educate yourself in the light of the genocide happening in Palestine, specifically Gaza, right now. I cannot in good conscience post for Joel without bringing awareness to the horrific things that have been going on for 5 months.
banners by @/saradika-graphics
follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates
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She had been wound up tight all week - always was when Joel was on patrol somewhere, made worse by the fact that the way back had been cut off by an unexpected, small avalanche.
She was worried about whether he was safe up there with Tommy. He would be. Joel was good at surviving things, she gathered that much from the little talking he had done with her.
He was an interesting man, only too quiet, never liked to talk about his past too much, so she had gathered everything of importance from Ellie or Tommy once they had become a little more serious.
Of course he’d be fine.
But if she had known he’d be gone for a little over a week instead of a day or two, she never would have promised him shit before he left.
“Don’t you dare touch yourself, darlin’.” He had said to her before he left, his rough, calloused palm on the softness of her cheek. “Wanna see her dripping and needy for me when I come back.”
Oh, dripping and needy she was. And it was even now, having fought the urge back ever since day three.
Day one was easy, two became just a little annoying, so used to having his thick length buried inside of her almost daily. Unless he had to patrol, which really was the only time he didn’t fuck her. 
Because even when he was too exhausted, she would simply turn him onto his back and bounce on his dick until she was satisfied. Much to his amusement.
On day three, the throbbing between her legs became more than annoying, it bothered her, clouding her thinking. It was tempting to just sneak her hand into her underwear at home and get herself off with her fingers.
But she didn’t, only squeezing her thighs together to find some semblance of relief.
After that, things had only gone downhill.
So when he was finally back, safe and unharmed, it hadn’t taken long to go from sweet kisses by the entrance to demanding ones in their bedroom.
Ready to burst right here.
Joel had barely managed to take his thick winter coat off before she had dragged him there, his large hands now opening her flannel, then wandering beneath her undershirt to feel her warm skin.
A hiss left her, caught by his mouth as he pushed his tongue against hers, goosebumps breaking out on her skin at how icy he felt. Pressing himself against her as if to warm himself.
He was fucking freezing, his fingertips a little numb despite his thick gloves, and she was so damn warm, he just couldn’t help himself.
“Fuckin’ missed you, sweetheart.” Joel rasped, hands leaving her skin to open her jeans as quickly as he could, slowly regaining the feeling in his fingertips. “Been a good girl for me?”
She hummed affirmatively, stilling when he shoved his hand down the front of her jeans.
“Oh, baby, she’s desperate.” 
His cold fingers pressed against her clit over the wet material of her panties, the change in temperature making her shiver. That was almost enough to make her cum, her hand coming to claw at his wrist.
“Not like this- Fuck me, Joel.” She whispered, desperate and impatient. 
Surprised that he just pulled his hand back out, now hastily working to get her undressed, her own hands started working on his pants.
The air felt even colder when he had her naked, pushing her onto the bed, leaning over her to kiss and nip at her neck, then down to her chest.
His beard scratched over her skin, her hands in his grey hair, slightly wet from the snow. 
Like a man starving, he sucked bruises into her skin, bit at her until small imprints showed. Showed she was his.
Joel knew he didn’t have to worry, there were no signs she would ever stray. Not with the way he fucked her, the way he took care of her.
She had it too damn good with him, he kept the creeps away and generally kept an eye out for her.
Still, he liked to show she was his, that no one else could have her, even if they tried.
His tongue found her pebbled nipple, sucking it into his mouth while his hand squeezed and pinched at her other breast, making her arch into his touch with a drawn out whine.
She was always so responsive to his touch.
So cold but so good, goosebumps on her skin, hands tugging at his hair.
“Stop teasing.” She whispered breathlessly, earning a harder bite from him, his dark eyes finding hers as he looked up at her. So hungry.
“Someone’s impatient.” His mouth wandered lower, despite his words, hands staying on her breasts when he found her wet heat.
Joel's tongue dipped into her and made her moan, just about ready to burst. Especially with the way his tongue flicked over her clit, sucking on it before letting the tip glide over it again.
Joel noticed how quickly her legs started shaking, her fingers curling into his hair tightly, his own digging into her thighs as he spread her open. Feeling her muscles spasm below her skin as he kept licking at her, eating her out like she was his last meal.
It happened way too fast, throwing her head back as the coil inside her tightened and snapped so suddenly, her body shaking as her orgasm rushed through her unexpectedly.
“Oh fuck- Joel-” She moaned, her legs fighting against his broad hands but he kept her spread open, working her through it.
Too worked up from him having been gone that she just couldn’t last any longer, feeling a little self conscious about just how quickly he had pulled her apart already.
“Seriously, sweetheart?” Joel asked when he lifted his head, looking up at her from where he kneeled between her open thighs. His beard was wet with her, a ravenous expression on his face. “That was way too damn short, darlin’.”
His words burned on her skin, unable to look him in the eyes so she stared at the ceiling instead. 
That really was embarrassingly fast, her fingers carding through his silvery hair.
“Sorry, Joel. I’ve been so damn horny all week and-”
He shushed her, pressing his lips to the inside of her thigh. His beard scratching her, making her shiver.
“Let’s go a little longer, I’m not done with you yet.” His chuckle was deep, tongue finding her middle again with a hum.
She whined, still a little sensitive as he worked his tongue over her clit repeatedly, back arching and her fingers curling back into his locks.
The heat came back immediately, settling in her abdomen, his tongue now moving down to find her soaking entrance, pushing inside.
Feeling her pulse around him when he fucked into her, his nose bumping against her clit in time with his movements, making her whine.
“Right there, Joel, yes!” She breathed, already feeling another orgasm approaching rapidly. “I’m close already, fuck. You feel good.”
Pushing her over a second time, he made her cry out, her legs shaking as he once again worked her through it.
But he didn’t stop. 
Joel just kept going, not giving her time to come down from her high, the buzz steadily moving through her body.
It was then that she realized he really was far from done with her, looking down at him with furrowed brows, while the glint in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.
“Joel-” She whined, feeling another rush coming, trying to scramble away from him somehow but he had an iron grip on her thighs.
He hummed against her, shaking his head No. She could swear he was grinning, doubling down on his efforts, tearing another orgasm from her.
The pleasure bordered on pain at this point, every nerve feeling like it was on fire as she shook, his tongue alternating between her clit and her pulsing hole.
God, he could be such an asshole, going on until tears were in her eyes, right on the brink of the fourth one.
Leaning back and licking his lips while he looked at her, squirming and shaking. A gasp left her when he worked two of his thick fingers into her, her legs clamping shut around his arm as he began to pump them in and out of her.
“Told you I’m not done with you yet, darlin’.” He rasped, using his other hand to open her legs again, teeth sinking into the soft skin before his tongue soothed over the marks. “She’s hungry still, must’ve been starving the whole time.”
Her hands fisted the sheets, head rolling from side to side as he built her up, scissoring his fingers before pushing into that soft spot inside of her again.
Then he let her fall, pulling his fingers out, laughing at the long whine that left her, the tears that rolled down her cheeks.
Like she didn’t know what she wanted, to cum again or to be left alone.
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry.” Joel chuckled, like he was mocking her. Somehow she liked it, the pulsing between her legs becoming worse, feeling empty. “Thought I’d give your little pussy some lovin’, she must have been so neglected.”
She lifted her head, trying to glare daggers at him but failing when his fingers rubbed over her clit, once again building her up just short of the peak, then removing them, his hand finding her breast, groping and squeezing at it.
What wonderful sounds she made, first feeling too much and now too little.
Maybe he should leave for extended periods more often, she clearly enjoyed the way he treated her right now, making up for time lost but also depriving her of what she really wanted.
“You’re mean.” She gasped, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.
She looked so fucked out already, yet he hadn’t even gotten his fill.
“I can be mean, sweetheart.” Joel said, letting go of her again and standing up, just watching how she writhed, deprived of his rough palms. “Wouldn’t like me when I am.”
“Joel, please!” She cried, one of her hands wandering over her stomach and to her aching pussy. But Joel was quicker, grabbing her wrist tightly.
“Don’t worry, baby, gonna get what you want when you’re fucking patient.” He said, letting go of her, moving to take off his pants. “Spent a whole week without me, can wait a couple minutes longer, can’t you?”
She watched him, growing frustrated at just how slowly he seemed to take off his jeans, then his underwear.
Then, finally, his hard cock was springing free, head glistening with precum.
Hovering over her, he nestled in between her legs.
She squirmed more, her hands running over his arms, feeling his muscles flex beneath the skin, coming up to cup his cheeks.
“So, so needy.” He chuckled, taking himself in hand, hitting her sensitive clit with the fat head of his cock a few times. The action made her whimper, fingers curling into his arms. 
Shooting electricity through her, her whole body taut, just needing him to push inside of her.
“Joel, can you fucking move?”
The corner of his lips curled slightly upwards, finding her entrance before pushing inside with one fluid motion, knocking the air out of her at the sudden intrusion.
His lips attached to her neck with a groan, feeling how tight she was gripping him. Like she wanted to strangle his dick, always so damn tight.
“Don’t get mouthy with me, sweetheart.” Joel said, hooking her leg over his hips, squeezing the soft flesh.
“‘M not.” She gasped, feeling so full of him, ready to burst again.
Slowly he began to move, shallow at first before thrusting deeper.
Pushing her up higher on the bed with each thrust, making her cry out and hold onto him, her head too dizzy and hazy as he fucked into her, letting out the week’s frustrations.
All that escaped her were incoherent ramblings, slurred whimpers and moans as she threw her head back, exposing more of her neck to him, his lips still dancing over the skin. 
“Shut up pretty fast with some cock in you, sweet darlin’.” He chuckled, voice strained and clearly losing himself slowly. Her wet pussy and her cockdrunk face were too much even for him after he’d been away from her that long. 
He’d gone without it for longer, but now that he could fuck her every night, even just a day had seemed like an awfully long time.
“Joel-” She mewled, voice high-pitched and so, so desperate.
“Yeah, tell me who makes you feel this good.” Joel said, lifting his head to look at her, one of his broad, rough hands coming up to wrap around her throat. Making her gasp as he squeezed the sides lightly, feeling her pulse throb in time with her sweet hole around him. “Say it, baby, keep sayin’ it. Whose cock is feeding your starvin’ pussy?”
She opened her eyes, finding his dark ones. 
“You- Yours, Joel!” She cried out, feeling her head become lighter as he cut off the blood flow, hazy smile on her face, jaw slack as he fucked into her. The words caught on her breath as she forced them out, stuttering. “Your cock, fucking- Fucking me so good!”
Joel almost snarled, thrusting harder, losing his rhythm. Jaw set so tight she could see the veins throb on his neck.
“That’s right, pretty girl. Hungry little pussy, what a poor thing.” He groaned, grip tightening around her throat, grinning at the way her eyes rolled into the back of her head. “C’mon, be a good girl and let me feed it.”
The coil inside her snapped again, almost painfully as she sucked in a shaky breath, her cries muffled by his mouth when he bent down to slot his lips over hers. Her heels dug into his lower back, pulling him deeper as she trembled, nails digging into his skin.
Everything hurt as he kept pounding into her, her veins filled with fire, his skin against hers hot, like it was burning her, her clit too sensitive as the coarse hair above his dick kept brushing against it.
But she loved it, the pleasure that wasn’t bordering on pain anymore, but actually hurt her in the best way possible, her entire body too stimulated.
It didn’t need much more for him to break, stilling inside her with a hiss that was swallowed by her mouth as he spilled himself inside of her, giving her exactly what she needed. Filled to the brim by his cock and his cum, humming as the pulsing of him didn’t seem to end, his hand around her throat just tightening a little more.
He loosened his grip when he felt her legs falling away from his waist, moving back to look at her face, blissed out while her body became boneless beneath him.
“My good girl.” He said, seeming less tense as he hovered above her still, the corners of his mouth slightly curled upwards, his hand moving up to brush some hair from her damp forehead. “Been too hungry.”
She giggled, catching her breath, feeling the blood rush back into her head as she laid there, feeling him soften inside of her.
“Not anymore.” The words were barely more than a quiet mumble, her weak hand coming up to cup his cheek, his coarse beard biting into the soft flesh of her palm. “Really missed you, though.”
In the quiet afterglow, the worry finally crept back in. She had been too pent up, too excited when he had walked into the door earlier, relieved to see him back but her need for him drove away all the worries of the past week.
Joel saw the change in her face, kissing her forehead tenderly.
“Been at the lodge when it happened, don’t worry, sweetheart.” He said, seeing her nod in understanding.
Silence fell between them, and she grew tired as she looked up at him, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Joel had worn her out pretty well, boneless and spent.
After pulling out slowly, he helped her get under the covers, his body finally warm again as he pulled her against his chest.
“You can take longer patrols, you know.” She said, her hot breath fanning over his neck where she had buried her face. “Hated you being away but if you fuck me like this every time you come home…”
Her words trailed off into the silence, making him chuckle.
“But no avalanches.” He said, making her giggle. “Love when she’s starved for me, sweetheart. Will see what I can do tomorrow, yeah?”
She nodded, eyes closing and enjoying his warmth again, his firm body against hers, strong arm wrapped around her waist.
Yeah, if he fucked her like this every time he came home from a long stretch of patrol, she definitely could manage being away from him for some time.
Starving for his touch and his cock.
1K notes · View notes
onlymingyus · 5 months
Text
First Snow
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pairing; jeon wonwoo x f reader
genre; fluff, angst, smut (minors dni)
warnings; ceo!wonwoo, single mom!reader, reader has a son, divorce is mentioned, ex-husband, parent of reader mentioned, svt members cameos, eating/drinking, alcohol, slight power imbalance (assistant!reader), unprotected sex, sexual health talk/reader iud, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, teasing, pet names, switch!wonwoo, switch!reader, manhandling (wonwoo can lift the reader), tears of pleasure, scratching, breast play, body worship, begging -- i am sure i am missing something.
w/c; 33k and some change + 1.1k of bonus content exclusive to patreon
a/n; this was a pleasure to write and it certainly got out of hand. i love a good plot. i hope you enjoy it and merry christmas/happy holidays my babes. thank you to @wonwussy for proofreading.
before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here
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“Hello?” 
Wonwoo rests the phone against his shoulder as he turns in his office chair towards his desk. He had been answering his own phones for the past twenty minutes since you were already running late. It wasn’t usually a common occurrence but lately it has become more frequent. 
“I am so sorry. I’m literally in the parking lot, Mr. Jeon. I just have Jacob with me. His babysitter is sick. I’m waiting for someone to get back to me about coming to pick him up.” 
Your voice made Wonwoo smile. You were a good assistant and a good mother. He had met your son a few times since you started working for him about two years ago. Shaking his head, Wonwoo glanced out of the glass window that separated his office from the rest of the building and the others already working before he sighed softly. 
“Until they can get here, just bring him inside. There’s no reason to sit in your car, Y/N. I’m sure he’s not thrilled sitting in his car seat.” 
Wonwoo had no idea how right he was. Three year olds were, in your opinion, worse than the terrible twos. You weren’t even sure who had come up with that bullshit. Jacob’s eyes were red from crying as he clawed at the straps, keeping him safely contained in the seat in your backseat as he pouted at you in the mirror. Yet, the idea of taking him inside and sitting at your desk outside of Wonwoo’s office sounded like a nightmare. Jacob wasn’t the quietest child. 
“I couldn’t. He’s–” Like clockwork to put emphasis behind your point, Jacob screams “momma!” and it breaks your heart as big, fat tears stream down his face. 
“He’s bored in your car. You can work out of my office with me until someone comes to pick him up. It won’t be a bother. I like Jacob; we’ve always gotten along.” 
You can’t help the sigh that slips from your lips. They had always gotten along. Wonwoo had probably met your son a handful of times but it was true that at that time he had a way with kids. It was a shock to you that he didn’t have some of his own. It was a bigger shock that he wasn’t already married, but that wasn’t any of your business. 
“Out! Momma? Take shoes off!” 
Jacob’s demands make Wonwoo laugh as he sighs, leaning back in his chair and looking at his computer screen. His finger moves over the scroll wheel of his mouse, moving the screen down as he reads every other word. It was cute hearing your little sighs of uncertainty. Everything about you was cute to Wonwoo, though he wasn’t sure it would be very professional to tell you that. 
“I–Jacob, calm down. Fine, yes, okay. We will be right up. I’ll catch up on your schedule. Oh, Wo–Mr. Jeon? Call Mr. Kim. I meant to put that on your calendar first thing this morning. He wants to set up a lunch.” 
Before he can say anything, the call disconnects, causing Wonwoo to laugh under his breath, feeling his cheeks burning. He had asked you to call him Wonwoo on several occasions, but you insisted that since he was your boss, he deserved respect. 
Shaking his head, Wonwoo glances towards the window behind him to watch you wrangle your bag and an upset toddler to your hip, along with his things, before you move towards the door. You were amazing. Parents in general were amazing, but there was something about a single parent that made Wonwoo just take a step back in wonder. 
He was sure that you had some help. You had mentioned your parents helping you in the past, and other relatives too, but he knew you still did almost everything on your own. Just the simple act of carrying another human and all of those belongings seemed overwhelming to Wonwoo and you did it without a second thought. 
Using your badge on your keys, you let yourself into the building, already apologizing as Jacob sniffles back tiny sobs, catching the attention of your co-workers. You hadn’t wanted to bother any of them but especially not Wonwoo. The sheer thought of him drew your eyes up the stairs, where his office door was next to your desk. 
“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. You know that my Jenny is around the same age. Your little one won’t be a problem.” 
Lia’s voice brings your eyes back to her as she smiles at you, moving towards you to offer to help carry something. She had always been so kind to you. Everyone had, and you had really gotten lucky with this job. Everything had fallen apart and you had vowed to Jacob that you’d pull yourself together and figure it out. This job had shown up in the listings and two years later, it was still the best place you had ever worked. 
"Thanks, Lia. Oh no… I’ve got it. I have to go upstairs to Mr. Jeon’s office. Jacob is so fussy. He said I could work in there until my mom comes to pick him up.” 
A knowing smile spreads across the woman’s lips as she stops and lifts her fingers to brush away Jacob’s tears, causing the small boy to smile at her and grab her fingers like a toy. 
“Did he? That’s so nice of him. He’s such a kind boss.” 
Sighing, you laugh, letting her pull her hand away from your son carefully so you can start up the stairs and hear her small laughter as you whisper back to her. 
“Don’t even start. I’ll text you later.” 
Waving at you, Lia returns to her desk but you know she wasn’t the only one to note your words. You had worked hard not to start any rumors about you and Wonwoo. Mainly because there was nothing to talk about. He was just a kind man and there was nothing happening, but that didn’t stop some people from thinking otherwise. 
Swallowing hard, you start to knock on Wonwoo’s office door when the door opens just before your knuckles can make contact. He had been watching and waiting for you to make it up the steps. 
"Here, let me, uh? I can take this.” 
You start to tell him no but Wonwoo takes Jacob’s bag from you before you can tell him otherwise. A sigh of relief leaves your lips at the weight taken off of your arm as you step into the room and hear the door close behind you. 
“Thank you. I could have handled it, though.” 
Wonwoo just grins, putting the bag onto a leather couch before making his way back towards his desk, choosing to lean against it. You have to look away when your brain screams about how handsome he looks. It was amazing how he could look like the lead in some drama. The hot CEO of a company was just sitting on the end of his desk, about to deliver some profound lines. 
“I know you could have, but you don’t have to do it all alone. At least not today. Unless you are just wanting to hold him, I don’t mind if Jacob is down on the floor.” Seeing the look on your face, one of uncertainty as you look around for anything breakable or any uncovered outlets, Wonwoo laughs and continues, “There’s nothing he can mess up. Everything is replaceable, and I babyproofed everything months ago.” 
Swallowing hard, you feel Jacob wiggling in your arms to be put down upon hearing his name out of Wonwoo’s mouth. With a sigh, you lean to let him on to the floor, watching him crawl towards the couch and reach for his bag just out of his reach, prompting you to walk towards it, opening it, and handing him his sippy cup. 
"Uh, why would you? I mean, why did you babyproof your office? You don’t have a kid of your own? I–shi…I mean, not that I’m aware of. That seemed out of line. I apologize.” 
Laughing, Wonwoo watches Jacob with his drink, finding the small boy adorable as he holds both handles and looks up at him with curiosity. Shrugging, Wonwoo finally finds your eyes again before shaking his head and gesturing towards Jacob. 
“My assistant has a child. It would be irresponsible of me not to. Even if something like this hadn’t happened, what if we had some other reason for him to be in my office and he wound up hurt because I hadn’t?” Shaking his head again, Wonwoo moves back around his desk, letting out another long sigh. “No, I couldn’t allow that. He’s far too important.” 
Smoothing his tie down his abdomen, Wonwoo sits down before looking up at you to find you staring at him as if he had just read you a complex piece of literature. Tilting his head, Wonwoo laughs and clicks his tongue against his teeth before leaning to pick up his phone. 
“I’m going to call Mingyu and set up that lunch. Do you want to go get your laptop so you can work from here for a bit? I can watch Jacob while you do.” 
Surprised by Wonwoo’s words, you look down at Jacob, who smiles at you, holding his sippy cup up at you before smacking it against the floor and laughing. That would be fine, right? You would just go outside, get the laptop, and do a couple of other things.
“Yeah? Yeah…sure okay. I’ll be right back. Jacob? Momma will be right back. Behave for Mr. Jeon.” 
God, what were you even saying? Giving one more look to Wonwoo, you watch him smile as he leans back in his chair. His eyes move to the toddler on his office floor, and his attention splits between him and the phone, allowing you to slip out the door. 
Wonwoo shakes his head, a chuckle on his lips, when Jacob babbles a few words before looking up at him and showing him the sippy cup. The phone was ringing, waiting for Kim Mingyu, his best friend and partner, to pick it up. 
“Yeah? You got your cup, little man?” 
Mingyu smirks a bit, pulling his phone from his ear at Wonwoo’s words, before narrowing his eyes and letting out an amused breath. 
“Since when do you call me little man? Do we need to hit the gym together again?” 
Wonwoo’s cheeks were burning but he knew that Mingyu was full of shit. He had just picked up at the wrong time. Laughing, he adjusts himself in his seat to follow Jacob as he shakily moves himself to his feet and walks towards his desk, babbling about momma. 
“No, shut the hel–shut up. Y/N said you wanted to set up lunch.” Distracted, Wonwoo leans to watch as Jacob moves around the desk, grabbing at his pants and offering him his sippy cup, trying to pull himself up into his lap. “I–momma will be right back. Do you need—? Hang on, Mingyu.” 
Confused, Mingyu just laughs, walking towards his office and offering a wink to his own assistant before closing the door behind him as he listens to Wonwoo. The sound of shuffling and then the same toddler he had thought he had heard in the background makes Mingyu stop in his tracks before he even reaches his desk. 
“Alright, as I was saying—" 
“Dude, do you have a kid right now?” 
Wonwoo smiles at Jacob, who smacks his sippy cup on Wonwoo’s desk before he sighs and nods to answer Mingyu before doing it out loud. 
“Yeah, it’s Y/N’s son. She’s getting her laptop so she can—” Realizing the details of that weren’t important, Wonwoo just sighs again and laughs, reaching up to smooth Jacob’s hair and trying to change the subject. "Lunch. When do you want to get lunch?” 
Dropping his briefcase on to his desk, Mingyu scoffs, trying to imagine his best friend with a baby but then hearing who’s baby it was makes it all make sense. 
“Ah, Y/N’s son. So is it “bring your hot assistant’s kid to work day” at your office?” 
Scowling at Mingyu’s words, Wonwoo looks towards the door, afraid you will overhear him. He had kept it professional with you as much as he could, but that didn’t mean that he had drunkenly mentioned his crush on you to Mingyu once or twice. And clearly, his best friend was an asshole who wasn’t going to let him live it down. 
“No, shut up. She was in a bind; someone should be coming to get him in a bit. Can we stay on track?” 
Mingyu purses his lips, sliding into his chair with a relaxed groan, a smile playing at his lips. He could get used to hearing Wonwoo flustered. Wonwoo might remember just a couple times talking about his “crush” on you, but Mingyu recalled multiple times of Wonwoo detailing his wish for a life with you. This was serious. 
"Yeah, sure. Make you a deal? We can get lunch tomorrow and go to our usual spot. I’ll pay as long as you ask the hot little milf out.” 
That was it—the last straw. Groaning in annoyance, Wonwoo pulls the phone from his ear and hits end, knowing it wouldn’t be the last time he talked to Mingyu today. The man was like an annoying little brother he could never get rid of. 
Balancing your laptop and a mug of coffee, you use the toe of your shoe to open Wonwoo’s door, only to stop in your tracks when you see Jacob sitting in his lap. A quick train of thoughts races through your head. One: Oh my god, what if Jacob spills something on his suit? Two: Oh my god, he looks so handsome with a kid in his lap, especially your kid. And three: just, oh my god. 
“I was gone too long. You didn’t have to pick him up. He’s clingy.” 
Now you were rambling. Moving into the room quickly, you place your laptop at the end of Wonwoo’s desk before letting him take the mug of coffee from you with an appreciative smile. 
“He’s just fine and you weren’t gone too long. You didn’t make yourself a cup of coffee?” 
Glancing at the laptop and the mug, you laugh just as Wonwoo does before he slides his cup towards you and Jacob lifts his cup towards Wonwoo’s mouth. 
“I can get another in a few minutes. Sit down and get settled for a few minutes. You’ve been running from the moment you woke up, it seems.” Glancing down at the toddler and the cup, Wonwoo laughs, taking it and pretending to drink from it before offering it back to Jacob, who giggles. “Thank you, buddy. See, I can share with him.” 
Sliding into the chair, you take a breath while watching him with Jacob. It seemed so natural and easy for him. You shouldn’t enjoy watching your boss with your son so much. Shaking your head, you clear your throat and open the laptop before bringing the mug to your lips and taking a sip of the coffee, letting it warm your throat and chest. The caffeine is a welcome hit to your system as you watch the device in front of you power up. 
“Mm, oh. My mom will be here in about less than an hour to get Jacob. Thank you for being so patient and kind about this.” 
Wonwoo nods, a smile on his lips as he looks over your pretty face. He could see you were tired and yet you always managed to look so put together at the office. He wished there was a way to help you out and let you get the rest you needed but yet he had a feeling that if he gave you time off, you’d just use it to do something else productive. 
“It’s really not a problem. I talked to Mingyu. Can you put a midday lunch on my schedule for tomorrow? Also, once things are up and running, could we go over what I have for the day?”
Wonwoo watches you switch into assistant mode, the mug back onto a coaster on his desk. You cross your legs, drawing his attention unknowingly to your thighs as your skirt hugs them perfectly. 
“Do you want to start with what you have first? I can already see things are going to overlap after lunch. We will need to reschedule your meeting with Mr. Hwon. I can do that easily; his assistant is easy to work with.” 
The hour passed too quickly for Wonwoo’s liking. Jacob had found his way back onto the floor, and you had given him some toys from his bag to play with as the two of you worked as if nothing was different. Wonwoo was beginning to enjoy having you in the same room as him instead of having to call for you either through the door or to send you a message. Besides, the view was much better than usual. 
When you make a sound of surprise looking at your phone, Wonwoo looks up from his computer again to watch you stand up and move around to collect Jacob’s things. Your mom must be outside. It almost made him sad to know things were going to go back to normal so quickly. Sighing softly, Wonwoo slides out of his chair and around his desk to offer his assistance, causing you to laugh and shake your head. 
“I–oh, Mr. Jeon. I’m okay. I will just run him downstairs and be right back up. Say bye bye to Mr. Jeon, Jacob.” 
Pouting, Jacob looks up at you and then at the tall man before babbling about his shoes. Wonwoo can’t help but smile, noticing one of the pieces of velcro had come undone, making it probably uncomfortable for the toddler. 
“Bye bye, Jacob. Here, let me fix it. Is that better?” 
You can feel your heart tightening once again as Wonwoo kneels down to adjust the velcro on Jacob’s shoe, making the little boy smile. Nodding, Jacob babbles bye bye a few times, moving to hug Wonwoo’s leg and Wonwoo can only close his eyes. It was his turn for his heart to feel heavy. He liked this kid. 
“Have fun with your grandmother.” 
“Nana…” 
“Ah, with your nana.” 
With your quick correction, Wonwoo laughs and ruffles Jacob’s hair before watching you pick him up and leave the room. He was in trouble. He wanted to see you like this again. Something more casual, and he wanted to see Jacob again. 
Outside, you lean into your mother’s car, adjusting the straps over Jacob’s chest and waist as he babbles about his cup and toys before finally landing on Jeon. Your mother’s brow lifts in curiosity as she tries to hide her smile, but fails when you meet her eyes and shake your head. 
“Stop it; don’t even start with me. He hears me say my boss's name all the time, and we were just upstairs. I told him to say bye bye to Mr. Jeon. He’s learning new words all the time.” 
Nodding, your mom leans in to press a kiss to your cheek before laughing against your warm skin. All she wanted was for you to be happy and you had been happier than you ever had in the past few months. Things seemed to be finding a normal pace but she still wanted you to find someone to settle down with, but all you ever seemed to do was work and talk about Mr. Jeon. 
“I didn’t say a thing, darling. We will see you after work. Have a good day. I love you.” 
Muttering that you love her back, you then turn to Jacob to tell him how much you love him and beg him to behave. It isn’t until he realizes that he is leaving you that he starts to pout and cry, making your heart hurt as you have to go back upstairs and work. 
Giving Wonwoo a courtesy knock on his office door, you slide back in, offering him a sad smile before moving to the laptop to start to collect your things. His eyes move over you curiously as he tilts his head. 
“You okay?” 
Nodding, you laugh softly, pulling your purse onto your shoulder as he stands watching you move so closely that it makes you feel like the room is smaller. 
“Oh yeah. It was just hard to see him crying after spending more time with him today. I’m fine, though. I’ll get to my desk and get back to work. Again, thanks for accommodating me today.” 
Wonwoo wanted to tell you that you didn’t have to go back to your desk but he knew that working from a corner of his wasn’t ideal. The chair you had been sitting in wasn’t good for your back and as much as he wanted to keep sneaking peeks at you, this was work. 
“Of course. Really wasn’t a big deal. Thank you for…you know. Being great at your job.” 
Furrowing your brows, you can’t help but laugh under your breath at Wonwoo’s wording. He was usually so well spoken, but that was a bit clumsy and almost as if he were flustered. Biting at your bottom lip a bit, you just smile and lower your head before leaving his office, letting Wonwoo catch his breath. 
Maybe it was getting a later start in your day or the fact that you were desperately trying to keep yourself busy so that you’d stop trying to sneak peeks at Wonwoo, but the end of the day came quickly. Sighing softly, you send one last text to your mom, letting her know you’d be on your way soon when Wonwoo’s voice pulls you out of your little world and back to reality. 
“Have a good evening, Y/N.” 
You smile at Wonwoo, whispering for him to do the same, when he bites at his lips, stopping and turning back towards you, pointing with his briefcase in your direction. The action makes you laugh and tilt your head. Had he forgotten to tell you something or had he forgotten something in his office? Glancing over your shoulder, you start to speak when he beats you to the punch. 
“Are you busy this Saturday evening?” 
Wonwoo watches you look from his office door and down to your desk. Your eyes were wide and you looked like you had seen a ghost. He hadn’t even said why he was curious but he knew you weren’t an idiot. 
“I–well…” 
Jacob…fuck. You have a kid. Wonwoo thought to himself, thinking he was such an idiot for even bringing it up without giving you much time to prep for his question. 
“Probably right? Stuff with Jacob?” 
You shake your head and Wonwoo’s head tilts curiously this time. No? That was different. To be fair, Wonwoo wasn’t sure what you really did on weekends. 
"Actually, he will be with his dad this weekend. He gets him once a week... Why are you asking?” 
Right, he would need to answer that question. Wonwoo could feel his palm go sweaty around the handle of his briefcase the moment you answered the question. Licking his lips, Wonwoo reaches up to scratch the back of his neck with his free hand, offering you a smile. 
“I wanted to see if maybe you wanted to get dinner and drinks. Especially if you have the night free." 
Your boss was asking you out. That wasn’t something your brain was making up, was it? Looking past Wonwoo to make sure no one else had heard him, you take note that at least no one was in ear range when you let out a nervous laugh. 
“I–is that appropriate? I mean…fuc–” Swallowing hard, you take a break to recenter yourself before meeting Wonwoo’s eyes to find him grinning at you. “You are my boss…” 
Wonwoo knew who he was and who you were. He already knew there were rumors about him dating you swirling around the office, so it wouldn’t be like he was doing something to shock anyone and there were no rules that said he couldn’t. 
“I don’t find it inappropriate. I mean, if you do, we can forget that I asked. I just didn’t want to miss out on this brief moment of bravery that I had and not ask you out.” 
His words cause your head to spin. He had to work up the courage to ask you out. Him? Be brave enough to ask you? In what world did any of that make sense? Smiling, you bite at your bottom lip as you fiddle with a few papers on your desk out of nerves before daring to look at Wonwoo again and shrugging. 
“I don’t really want to forget that you asked.” 
A small laugh escapes Wonwoo’s lips at your words. What did that mean? Did that mean yes? You’d go? Stepping towards your desk, Wonwoo watches you take in a breath. He finds himself wondering, if he touched your cheek, if it would be warm with how you were acting. 
“Does that mean you’ll go out with me?” 
When you nod, Wonwoo grins and looks down, reaching up to push his glasses up his nose and clearing his throat. He needed to keep his cool. It was just dinner and drinks. It wasn’t like he had asked you to marry him and you had said yes or something. He wasn’t some high schooler asking a girl to the prom. He was the CEO of a multimillion dollar company asking his incredibly attractive assistant out on a date, and she had said yes. 
“Great. I’ll see you in the morning, Y/N. Have a good evening.” 
You whisper out the same to Wonwoo, watching him jog down the steps before he gets to the door, leaving enough space between him and you that you feel like you can let out the breath you had been holding. It comes out with a small squeal as you lean forward on your desk, a smile on your lips, finding everything that had just happened to be unbelievable. 
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Pulling into the parking lot next to the matte black Lamborghini, Wonwoo shakes his head at how ostentatious the car seems. Putting his own car into park, he sighs, hitting the lock button on his keyfob, noting that he didn’t have much he could really say. His own Mercedes wasn’t that much better, but at least he wasn’t driving a Lambo.  
When he had been in university, he and Mingyu had swore to one another that they would make it. At the time, they weren’t even sure what that meant. Earning business degrees and keeping their heads down for a few years had been the first step, but quickly they had both learned the ropes and now they were two of the most influential people in the business world. 
What had started as a pipe dream of two sleep deprived broke university students became a hard earned reality. Each was now the CEO of their own company, in charge of dozens of employees, and making 7 figure salaries a year. 
Wonwoo kept himself a bit more grounded than Mingyu, but he couldn’t blame the younger man for enjoying his wealth just a little here and there with things that he loved, like cars. Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s money was invested and while his car was nice, his true wealth could be seen in his choice of house and accessories. 
Walking into the restaurant, Wonwoo glances at the Roger Dubuis watch on his wrist, pursing his lips. He wasn’t late but he hated leaving the office, but mostly you, as the phones were persistent today. You had told him to go enjoy his lunch, despite him offering to take you along. 
“Mr. Kim said this was a leisure lunch, Mr. Jeon. You don’t need your assistant for that.” 
He wanted to punch Mingyu for telling you that. Couldn’t he play it off as a business lunch? He was the one who wanted him to ask you out in the first place. Sighing, Wonwoo simply offers a nod to the hostess, who directs him to Mingyu, already seated at their usual table. 
“You could at least look happy to see me…” 
Mingyu smirks as Wonwoo sits down across from him. Their chosen restaurant was familiar; not only did they visit often but being friends with the owner had it’s perks. 
“Just been a long morning. I am happy to see you. Has Junhui been out to the table yet?” 
Shaking his head, Mingyu shifts in his chair, studying Wonwoo. Something was on his mind and he wasn’t as open as some of their other friends when it came to sharing their feelings. 
“No, apparently he’s already making our food. We don’t get to pick.” 
Scoffing, Wonwoo scoots the useless menu away from him before leaning to pick up the glass of water meant for him and taking a long sip. 
“Sounds like Junhui. Whatever he serves us will be delicious anyway.” Clearing his throat, Wonwoo swipes his finger across a bead of condensation on his glass, looking down at it as he speaks. “Y/N told me this was a leisure lunch. You have something on your mind you want to talk about?” 
There it was. Mingyu knew Wonwoo would get around to the reason he looked like there was a stick up his ass eventually, and this time he didn’t even have to try. Pursing his lips, Mingyu tilts his head, scooting one of his legs out under the table as he sighs. In truth, there hadn’t been a reason for the lunch. He had just missed his friend and tried to make it a weekly occasion to meet for a meal but Wonwoo made it harder and harder every week. 
“Do I need to have something on my mind? Do you have something on yours?” Offering Wonwoo a smile when he receives a dirty look in return, Mingyu can’t help the chuckle that follows. “We should see if Junhui can whip something up for Y/N that you can take back to the office for her.” 
That wasn’t a horrible idea but Wonwoo’s only reaction is to lift his brows and sit down the glass of water in his hand. He hadn’t told Mingyu that he had asked you out yet. The silence becoming deafening Wonwoo is pleased to hear the familiar voice of Junhui drawing his and Mingyu’s attention. 
“The coconut chicken for Wonwoo and the huang men ji for Mingyu.” 
Food sat in front of him. Wonwoo grins at the bowl of food. It was simple but it smelled like comfort. Mingyu laughs while standing up to hug the man they had both known for the better part of a decade before Wonwoo does the same. 
“You didn’t come by last week. I thought you didn’t like my food anymore.” 
Wonwoo feels an instant pang of guilt at Junhui’s words. He knew it was his fault that he and Mingyu hadn’t come by. He had cancelled their lunch at the last minute because of business but Mingyu is quick to cover for him like always. 
“You know that’s not true. Just some work bullshit got in the way. He’d live out of this place if he could. Wonwoo would sit in your kitchen and let you make him ramyeon or sweet and spicy chicken.” 
Seeing Junhui smile the way he did after Mingyu spoke was truly a gift. Mingyu was always good at making people happy and being genuine. He was a bit of an ass sometimes but at the root of it all, he was a good person. 
“Well, I just hope you enjoy lunch today. I’d stay and chat more but you know how hectic lunch can be. Let one of the servers know if you need anything." 
Taking a breath into his words, Wonwoo stumbles on the first before finally meeting Junhui’s eyes, making the man stop in his tracks. 
“Actu–actually…Could you, you know, if you aren’t incredibly busy, make something for my assistant? I want to take her some lunch back to the office.”
Mingyu grins, looking down at his food, at how Wonwoo stumbles over his words and at how he has taken his advice. Maybe that wasn’t the only time he had taken it?
Junhui simply smiles and furrows his brows, trying to remember your name, before nodding. “For Y/N, right? No problem. I’ll have it ready before you all finish.” 
Nodding, Wonwoo looks down at his food, unwilling to meet Junhui’s or Mingyu’s eyes just yet. It isn’t until Mingyu clears his throat, shirting in his chair to pick up his chopsticks and then a piece of chicken that Wonwoo looks up, meeting his eyes. 
“Don’t say it.” 
Mingyu smirks, the chicken almost against his lips, before he shakes his head, pausing to speak before taking the first bite. 
“I didn’t say a thing.” 
Wonwoo groans, picking up his chopsticks and a piece of his chicken and eating it with more force than necessary. Mingyu didn’t have to say anything; he was saying it all with a look on his face. 
“The chicken isn’t going to fight back, Wonwoo. Why are you so defensive when Y/N is mentioned? By the way, you brought her up with time. I was going to wait until at least dessert.” 
He knew he was being ridiculous about you. He was almost 30 years old. There was no reason for Wonwoo to be acting like some teenager afraid of a crush but you made him feel that way. Especially when he considered everything about your life and how he wanted to make it better for you and Jacob. He had never even considered children until you showed up and started working for him. 
“I–I don’t know. She makes me nervous.” 
That much Mingyu knew. Everyone in a ten mile radius could see that. Taking another bite of his food, Mingyu licks his lips and lets out a breath, appreciating the taste before wiping his mouth with his napkin. 
“It’s not like she knows you like her. You won’t even ask her –” 
“I did ask her out.” 
The surprise is evident on Mingyu’s face as Wonwoo confesses to asking you out on a date. He is proud and impressed but also a sinking feeling of nervousness takes over him as he tries to read Wonwoo’s face before finally just biting the bullet and asking the question he needed the answer to. 
“And? What did she say?” 
Wonwoo tries to hide his smile but it only ends up making it harder to keep his lips from turning up at the corners. Glancing down at his food, he licks his lips and shrugs before meeting Mingyu’s eyes, narrowing his own as if the words might backfire on him. 
“She said yes.” 
Tossing his chopsticks to the table, Mingyu reaches over to smack Wonwoo’s arm harder than necessary, causing the slightly smaller man to grimace at the shock of the hit. 
“Fuck yeah, man. I knew she would. I mean, why wouldn’t she? What’s the plan?” Rambling, Mingyu suddenly thinks of your son and his eyes widen, cutting Wonwoo off before he can answer, “What about the kid? You aren’t taking him on the first date, right? Surely someone can keep him?” 
“Can I speak now?” Getting a nod from Mingyu, Wonwoo watches him pick up his chopsticks, going back to his food as he grins at the younger man fondly. Mingyu was always excitable, but Wonwoo couldn’t help but indulge him. 
“I haven’t decided on a place to have dinner yet but I have some options. I’m surprised she said yes. She was concerned because I’m her employer.” Swallowing hard, Wonwoo furrows his brows before shrugging and pushing around his rice. “She said Jacob will be with his dad this weekend so Saturday is a good time.” 
Sitting up straight like a puppy that had heard a new word, Mingyu tilts his head and blinks a few times at Wonwoo. That was the first time he had heard anything about your ex. I mean, it made sense. It took two to make a kid but he had just assumed the guy was completely out of the picture. 
“Dad? Do we have a name? How close are they?” 
Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo picks up a bite of his food, chewing it before even trying to answer Mingyu. He knew what he was trying to do and while he appreciated it. He didn’t need Seungcheol to do a background check on your ex. 
“Yes, Jacob’s father. I don’t know his name; I didn’t ask and she didn’t offer it. I have no idea how close they are but they share a child, Mingyu.” Sighing, Wonwoo meets Mingyu’s eyes, seeing the incredulous look in them, before adding, “But they are also not together so I can assume they are not terribly close.” 
Mingyu wasn’t thrilled with Wonwoo’s answer but he figured that if his friend changed his mind, he could do some digging in the meantime. He did have a point, if there was a good relationship there, you and your ex would be raising Jacob together in the same home. 
“Fine, I won’t call Cheol…yet. Let me know if you change your mind.” 
Shaking his head, Wonwoo picks up another bite of food, sighing heavily before laughing humorlessly into his words. 
“I can promise you, I will not change my mind.” 
The rest of lunch was as normal as possible. Beyond Mingyu offering date options and letting Wonwoo borrow his car for the date, it was back to their normal topics of conversation before Junhui joined them for the last part of the meal. Desserts were served and a takeaway container sat beside Wonwoo. Junhui grinned at Wonwoo suspiciously before Mingyu filled him in on the “good news” about the upcoming date. 
“I’m happy for you, Wonwoo. You need to date more often. It’s been months since you’ve even tried. All I’ve even heard about is Y/N since she started working for you and no one comes close to your standard of Y/N.” 
Rubbing the back of his neck, Wonwoo could only smile sheepishly. Junhui wasn’t wrong. You were not someone that most people could dream of living up to and no other woman came close. 
“I..I just want to see where it goes. I’m not going to force it. I know she will have Jacob on her mind.”
Junhui nods, his fingers running over the tablecloth under them as he listens to his friend talk. He could tell how important this was to Wonwoo and he wanted it to work for his sake. 
“Then just tell her how you feel and what you want. It seems to work out in books and movies.” 
Laughing, Mingyu just shrugs when Junhui shoots him a look. It wasn’t that he was wrong but it was the fact that he was sourcing books and movies as his knowledge bank. Wonwoo just smiles fondly at his friend and nods before leaning back to sigh into a groan. He needed to go back to work now. He wanted to see you and give you lunch but already the butterflies were fighting for space in his stomach. 
“Thanks, both of you, and Junhui, for the food. Ours and Y/N’s.” 
Mingyu echoes Wonwoo’s words before hugs are exchanged, along with more well wishes. Wonwoo finds himself wondering when they had gotten to the age where this was the topic of lunch conversation and not the next kegger. Either way, he didn’t mind as he held your food in his hands, heading for his car, willing the butterflies to calm down. 
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Watching Wonwoo as he raised the spoon of cereal to his mouth, Mingyu smirked and shook his head. It was the fourth jacket his friend had put on and taken off before even waiting for his opinion. That had been his entire purpose for being here—well, and to raid Wonwoo’s pantry but mostly emotional support. 
Wonwoo had been stressed out over this date the entire week. You had noticed his being a bit more awkward than normal, including offering you the food after his lunch with Mingyu by clearing his throat and all but dropping the box into your hands. 
He wasn’t trying to make this harder than it needed to be but you were important. No other woman had made him feel like this. It wasn’t the fact that you had a kid; that didn’t even phase Wonwoo, even though he had many other friends who thought it was a red flag or a reason not to pursue you, no matter how attractive you were. He had quickly shut them down, reminding them to mind their business. 
“I–fuck. What about this one?” 
Mingyu wipes his lips with his thumb tilting his head, his eyes narrowing at the mirror in front of Wonwoo. The jacket looked suspiciously like one he had put on three jackets before and he remembered telling him it looked sharp. 
“Isn’t that the same one as before? Look at the tag. Did you buy out Dior? Do you own the entire collection in that pattern?” 
Scoffing, Wonwoo pulls on the lapels of the jacket before reaching up to adjust his glasses and sweep the curls of his brown hair from his forehead before he mutters under his breath. 
“Shut the fuck up.” 
Smiling, Mingyu shrugs, sitting the bowl aside so he can stand up and move towards Wonwoo, smacking his shoulder and sending the man forward a step. 
“I’m trying to get you to lighten up, man. You look good. You look classy. I know you wanna impress her but I don’t think you have to try so hard.” 
Wonwoo knew Mingyu was probably right but he didn’t want to ruin this and lose his chance with you. If he tried too hard, he might scare you off, but if he didn’t try hard enough, you might think he thought you were just every other woman. There was a fine line, and Wonwoo had to walk it like a tightline. 
“Yeah, maybe.” Swiping his phone from his dresser, Wonwoo checks his email, confirming his reservations and making Mingyu laugh once again. Hissing out an annoyed sound, Wonwoo pushes back his elbow into his friend’s ribs, hearing the taller man grunt before taking a step back and putting up his hands in submission. “I get that I don’t have to try so hard but I’m going to. She…deserves it.” 
The last of Wonwoo’s words are quieter, as if he says them too loudly, it might give too much away. He worked with you almost every single day and yet he hated having to say goodbye to you when 5 o’clock rolled around. Wonwoo felt like there was something else on the tip of his tongue as he watched you smile up at him and finish the last of your tasks as he glanced back at you, his briefcase in hand. 
Pursing his lips at Wonwoo’s words, Mingyu crosses his arms and studies the man. He was whipped and there was no other way of putting it. He had known he was falling for you about two weeks after Wonwoo hired you. He had listened to call after call about the wonderful new assistant that Wonwoo had found and how it all just seemed to work. Mingyu remembered thinking even then that that wasn’t how you spoke about your employees, no matter how wonderful they were. That was how you spoke about someone you were falling in love with. 
“Hey, I’m not saying shit, man. I support you, and I support this. You are as happy as I have seen you in a long time.” 
Taking a breath, Wonwoo slips his phone into his pocket and shakes his head at Mingyu’s words. He didn’t disagree with them per se; he just didn’t know how to feel about them or even what to say in response to them. Mingyu wasn’t wrong. He was happy and he was excited. For once, he felt like there was possibility. 
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Smoothing your dress down at your sides, you slide into the chair at your vanity, already feeling your leg bouncing under the table. You could hear Jacob just behind you talking to his toy about his juice but your mind was still a blur. You couldn’t help but glance away at your own reflection in the mirror. 
This was the first time you had dressed up like this besides work dinners and even then, you didn’t dare try to be anything anyone would consider sexy or bordering on it. You were a mom. That was your first job—the most important job. 
“Momma, ‘ook!” 
Drawing your attention from your thoughts, Jacob’s excited words cause you to turn in your chair to look at him as he picks up the car in front of him, making something that sounds between a roar and an exhaust. 
“Wow, you are so cool. What is that, baby?” 
Looking down at his toy, Jacob giggles, pushing the wheels with his fingers, before smiling at you with a smile that melts your heart. 
“Car!” 
Nodding, you can’t help but laugh and clap, encouraging him before Jacob keeps repeating the word over and over again to show you he knew it for sure. You knew he was smart but speech had been a bit difficult for him in the beginning. You had a hard time not blaming yourself or the situation; stress, change—kids were so resilient and yet fragile. So when he started to pick up more and more words—full sentences—no matter how broken they were, you couldn’t help but feel your heart get fuller with pride. 
Watching Jacob for a moment longer, you rest your chin on your arm before letting out a soft, slow breath. You were excited and nervous for your date with Wonwoo but you always dreaded anything new. Just like you always dreaded any time you had apart from Jacob, you knew it was something you needed to get used to and it wasn’t like you didn’t want his dad to have a relationship with him. You were just attached. It was hard not to be when he was the most important person in your life. 
Finally, turning back to the mirror, you get the courage to look into it, meeting your own reflection. You could tell you were tired. You knew you needed the break. Working a full time job and taking care of a toddler wasn’t easy. Reaching for your concealer, you dab a bit under your eyes, pursing your lips as you use a brush to blend it in with the rest of your makeup. You couldn’t get more sleep but at least you could attempt to hide how much sleep you hadn’t had. 
When the doorbell rang, Jacob squealed in excitement. Not even knowing who was at the door, your son was always excited to see anyway. You knew you needed to teach him more about stranger danger but there was something beautiful and whimsical about seeing a child so eager and loving to meet someone. 
His little feet hitting the carpet and then hardwood, Jacob calls for you as he reaches the door, only to smack at it, trying to figure out how to open it when he hears the voice on the other side. 
“Is that my buddy?” 
“Dadda! Dadda! Momma, dadda’s here!” 
You had been trying to watch the time but 4 o’clock had snuck up on you. Biting your lip, you struggle with your bracelet, hurrying towards the door to unlock it and usher Jacob back all while trying not to drop the delicate gold chain around your arm as your ex-husband moves into the house. 
Flinging his arms around his dad’s legs, Jacob giggles as he feels his fingers brush over his head. Your ex, Daniel, grins, muttering another hi to his son before finally giving you an appraising look and letting out a low whistle. 
Rolling your eyes, you feel your cheeks warm at his attention. There were no longer romantic feelings between the two of you but you were both lucky that a friendship had remained. It had been easier than anticipated after the divorce to be close for Jacob’s sake and to actually be there for one another when each of you needed it. 
Daniel laughs at your reaction, watching your fingers struggle with the bracelet before he reaches out to help with the tiny clasp, earning himself a small thank you. Shrugging, the man simply offers you another smile before leaning down to pick up Jacob with a groan, pretending that he hurt his back. 
“Don’t mention it. You, however, can. Are you eating all the vegetables? You are twice as big as last week!” 
Smiling fondly, you watch Jacob giggle as his dad kisses his cheeks, your son holding on to the man like an anchor. Stepping to the side, you allow him to move further into the house with Jacob as the boy babbles about his car, making your ex glance at you, noting the new word as you just smile and nod. 
“Car huh? Dadda has a cool car, you know. Momma doesn’t let me bring it to pick you up but I’ll show you when we get home. It’s not as cool as yours but it’s close.”
You roll your eyes again, letting out a scoff that cues Daniel to smirk at you. His eyes once again move over you before he lifts his brow, letting Jacob down to play as he watches you gather the last of his things, putting them into his bag. 
“It is a nice car. You used to like it when we’d go out on the town. Speaking of –” 
Looking up quickly, you watch Daniel lift his hands at the look on your face. Another laugh slips from his lips before you zip Jacob’s bag, offering it to him. 
“Your car is dumb, just like you. I–yes I’m going out. Do I look…you know?” 
Narrowing his eyes playfully at the comment about his car being dumb, Daniel lets it go instead, choosing to focus on what you had said next. Shaking his head, he takes a step back, giving you another once over before letting out a breath. He might be your ex-husband and your friend but he had eyes and there were very good reasons he had been attracted to you in the first place, besides your amazing wit. 
“You look hot. You said “going out?” Out as in…” 
Groaning, you narrow your eyes at the man as he smirks at you. He was worse than your girlfriends when it came to things like this. He was worse than your mother and that was saying something. You knew things with Daniel were good and that what had been there had ended long before the divorce had even been finalized, but there were times like this when you started to talk to him about a man you were going to go on a date with that you felt like you were talking to your husband again. 
“Just…out. With someone, a friend.” 
Not believing you, Daniel glances towards Jacob as he pretends to run the car over the couch cushion, making the same car noise he had for you. The sound brings a smile to his lips but it’s short lived as the attention is brought back to you. He wanted you to be happy. It wasn’t like he hadn’t dated or wasn’t currently dating. You should do the same, even if you have primary custody of Jacob. 
“A friend? A man? Y/N? Are you going on a date? Why are you so afraid to tell me?” Scoffing softly, Daniel leans against the kitchen counter next to him, studying you as you look down almost in shame before he reaches up to hold your shoulder as he talks. “Why in the hell would I be mad that you are trying to be happy? I’m not an asshole." 
Fighting the tears that were threatening to well up in your eyes, you shrug as Daniel leans down ever so slightly to meet your eyes fully. His smile is genuine as he watches you try to keep your composure. 
“Y/N, we have a cool ass kid. We didn’t work married but we work as friends. I’m not going to tell you that you can’t find a man who will love you like you deserve.” 
Closing your eyes, you laugh but the tears fall to your cheeks, causing Daniel to sigh apologetically. He reached up with his thumbs to delicately push them off your face, knowing that you had probably worked hard on your make up. 
“Don’t cry; I didn’t mean to do that.” 
“Momma cry! Don’t be sad, momma. I’m ‘ere. I love you.” 
Feeling Jacob trying to climb your legs causes your heart to tighten in your chest. Daniel laughs a bit, trying to calm him down, trying to tell him you are okay. Your son doesn’t listen, too concerned about you, until you reach down to pick him up, letting the little boy look at your face. His small hand moves over your face with less care than his father as he tries to help with your tears, before he leans in to kiss the corner of your lips and cheek. 
“You love a lot of people, Y/N. You teach him to love people fiercely so he loves you just as hard.” 
Daniel’s words make you smile as you lean your forehead to rest it against Jacob’s, whispering that you love him and that you are okay. Your son smiles, running his fingers over your cheek again, checking for more tears. He's happy when he can’t find any more. 
“Momma’s okay, bud. She’s gonna have a good night with a friend. Me and you are gonna stay up late and eat pancakes.” 
Jacob gasps at hearing his dad’s words, glancing back at him and babbling about pancakes, making you laugh, and letting him wiggle his way over to his arms. 
“Thanks, Daniel.” 
Shrugging, you watch him lean his head against Jacob’s, his eyes mirroring your sons and making your heart warm. 
“No problem. Text me later and let me know how the date goes. I’ll send you pictures of him later but I won’t bother you too much. Don’t wanna interrupt. I want you to have fun and actually enjoy a night out.” 
Agreeing to the text and promising to at least try to relax, you walk your ex-husband and son to the door, kissing Jacob’s forehead once more before watching the two of them leave, knowing it was going to be a long couple of days before he would be back with you. 
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Checking his watch at 6:45, Wonwoo looks at the outside of your house before pulling into the driveway. He knew he was a little early but he had a habit of it. You couldn’t be late if you were early. It has always worked for him thus far. 
Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo straightens his chosen jacket of the night and takes the first step towards your front door. It wasn’t that long of a driveway but by the time he made it there, he felt like he had been walking for an hour, despite checking his watch to see that it was now only 6:47. He was letting his nerves get the best of him. 
Wonwoo could hear Mingyu’s voice echoing in his head even as he lifted his hand to the doorbell and waited for you, wondering if you would change your mind. Stay calm, man. Don’t try too hard. You look like you have a stick up your ass. Wonwoo did not, in fact, have a stick up his ass. He was just nervous. So fucking nervous. 
You had heard the vehicle pull into the driveway so you couldn’t really explain the dread that was in your stomach when you heard the doorbell ring. You knew it was Wonwoo and you were excited, but you were also terrified. You had spent an hour cleaning up everything he could possibly see from at least the front door and even if he were to come into the kitchen, but as you walked towards the door you let out a squeal when you see another toy, picking it up and putting it behind your back before pulling the door open. 
He smiled, his brows furrowing at the sound he had heard behind your closed door. Wonwoo can’t help but tilt his head in concern before he finally gets a good look at you and loses his resolve. You were stunning. He had seen you in business professional clothes and even a nicer dress for a work dinner but this... you looked amazing. 
“I–wow. Hey.” 
Your cheeks are burning, and you feel a bit confused as you hold the small toy behind your back, balancing your toes on the hardwood next to your other foot as you look at Wonwoo in your doorway. He looked amazing. He always did. He looked expensive, but you knew that he was. You weren’t a complete idiot. That was another reason that this was all making you so nervous. Your life was nothing compared to his. 
“Hi, I mean…  hello, Mr. Je–” 
“Oh…no please. Don’t call me that tonight. I told you at work, just Wonwoo. It would be so strange to hear you call me that on a date.” 
A date. Yeah, you were going on a date with your boss. Fuck, your stomach was churning. Swallowing hard, you offer Wonwoo a smile before looking down and stepping to the side to let him step in. The air was crisp and your heat was already kicking on. 
“Come in…  I need to get my jacket and, uh, shoes.” 
Smiling as he steps inside, Wonwoo glances around, thinking that your house was perfectly you but it lacked all the things that he had expected when it came to Jacob. He had expected toys to be lying around and perhaps shoes in the entryway. Things he had seen in his own childhood home growing up but it appeared you either kept an incredibly kept house, or you had cleaned up prior to his arrival. 
“I know I’m a bit early. Kinda sad I won’t see Jacob today.” 
Watching you back away from him, Wonwoo watches your hand slide from behind you to in front, making him grin when he sees the toy in it that you had been trying to hide from him. So you had just cleaned, and that made him feel a bit better. 
Nodding along with his words, you toss the toy into a basket before moving to slide your feet into your heels as Wonwoo watches you. His eyes are moving along your frame with interest before he stops at your face, listening to every word you have to say. 
“I’m sure he will stumble back into your life unceremoniously in the near future because my life is a mess. Uh, but his dad came and got him a few hours ago.” 
Wonwoo chuckles at your wording but he can’t help but enjoy the idea of Jacob and you both stumbling into his life. He didn’t mind it and he didn’t feel that he ever would. Glancing at the jacket on a hook near him as you start towards it. Wonwoo makes a sound, drawing your attention to him before he takes your jacket down and holds it open for you, surprising you. 
Carefully sliding your arms into your jacket, you step backwards, careful not to get too close to Wonwoo but no matter how much you try not to, you can still feel the warmth of his body close to yours as he situates the jacket on your shoulders. 
“Thanks…” 
With a small smile on his lips, Wonwoo takes a step back, letting you grab your purse and offering you a nod in response. To him, it hadn’t been anything special, just something he wanted to do, but to you, it had been the beginning of something special. 
“No problem. I have reservations for us at 8 o'clock; it’s a bit of a drive so I hope you won’t mind.” 
Wonwoo watches as you shake your head. You seemed shy and sweet. Not that you didn’t give off a similar vibe most days but today it was different. You were reserved and Wonwoo knew that it might take just a little bit of time and some conversation to get you past what you were holding on to about him being your boss. 
Walking you to his car, Wonwoo surprises you once again by joining you at the passenger's side door and pulling it open for you. It wasn’t that you hadn’t had men do chivalrous things for you in the past. It wasn’t even that Daniel hadn’t done similar things for you; it was the fact that it was Wonwoo. It was the fact that he was one of Forbes 30 under 30 and he was treating you like the most important person in the world at the moment. 
Sliding into the Mercedes, you let your fingers glide over the leather seat, enjoying the soft feeling before you reach for the seatbelt as Wonwoo closes the door and makes his way around to get in beside you. He was already enjoying having this extra time with you. Neither of you needed to say a thing but one look in your direction granted him a sweet smile that melted Wonwoo’s heart. 
He could see you glancing around the car as he drove. Your fingers are moving nervously in your lap on top of your purse. You were possibly more nervous than he was and that was saying something. Reaching out towards the radio, Wonwoo turns it on, letting it play quietly so perhaps that will help you feel less awkward before he lets out a sigh, smiling over at you. 
“You look beautiful tonight, Y/N. I’m really happy you accepted my invitation.” 
Your face was hot again. All you could do was look down and grin like an idiot at Wonwoo’s compliment. Lifting your hand, you swipe away a loose bit of hair from your cheek before glancing back over at him, whispering a thank you and clearing your throat to regain your composure. 
“Th-thank you. I was, well, you know, surprised you even asked me. Beyond the facts that I brought up at work...  I just assumed you would be seeing someone.” 
Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo tightens his grip on the steering wheel with his left hand, his right resting on the gearshift as he leans his head back against the headrest. 
“Like who?” 
You can’t help but let out an amused scoff at Wonwoo’s question. He actually sounded intrigued or maybe even confused, by your assumption. You could think of plenty of people better than you for him. 
“Well, any model you wanted for one. I believe Mr. Kim had one on his arm at the last dinner…” 
Trailing off, you look out the passenger’s side window as Wonwoo looks at you. He wasn’t Mingyu and he didn’t want a model; he wanted you. He wasn’t even sure Mingyu wanted a model; that date was for the press, but that was a fact that even you didn’t seem to pick up on. 
“He barely knew how to say her name and she spoke maybe three times to him that night. It was a publicity arrangement. I turn them down frequently because I am not interested in helping to boost anyone’s image, especially when I have someone I’m already interested in.”
Pressing your lips together, you can’t even dare yourself to look over at Wonwoo after hearing his words. He was interested in someone. You weren’t stupid and you weren’t going to play that card. He wouldn’t have said those words with you in the car if he hadn’t been talking about you. It was making you feel short of breath and your heart was beating like a drum in your chest. 
“Mingyu does it because he likes the playboy persona, even if its a lie. It looks good on paper and it’s fun for him. But, Y/N…please look at me." 
There is a slight whine in Wonwoo’s voice as he asks you to look at him. He knew you could hear him but he wanted to make sure you understood what he was going to say next. He knew that his lifestyle was different from yours in many ways but not as different as you might want to believe. 
Finally turning your gaze to his as Wonwoo slows down to a stop at a red light, you press your lips together, drawing his attention to them for a brief moment before he looks back into your eyes. He was entranced by you; he wanted nothing more than to see you happy and for this date to go well and so far he was afraid it was off to a rocky start because of your assumptions. 
“But I am not Mingyu and I am not a rich playboy. I’m just... me, and I like you.” 
Your lips parted slightly with a tiny breath and Wonwoo wants nothing more than to act on how he’s feeling. You look kissable. Your lips parted just slightly, a rosy color making them already look bitten but a honk from behind him made him smile and he pressed down on the gas, putting the car back in motion. 
“I didn’t mean to sound like I was accusing you of something, Wonwoo. It is very clear you aren't. You know a play–” You stop and laugh to yourself, not sure what you were even saying. Wonwoo made you so nervous. You hear him laugh, your eyes moving over his handsome face as his cheeks become fuller, his eyes almost catlike, letting you know the laugh is real. “I’m serious. I know you are a good person. I’m just not in your circle.” 
Wonwoo’s laugh and smile fade with your words. It wasn’t that he hated being wealthy or successful. That had been the plan, and he had worked hard for it. It was the fact that you felt less and unworthy of him because of his wealth and success when, in his eyes, you were far more wealthy. 
“You are. I don’t even know what that means. Do you mean part of my friend group? You can meet them if you want. You already know Mingyu.” 
Sighing, you smile and lean your head back against your headrest, looking over Wonwoo’s handsome face. He was perfect in every single way that you could think of. He was every girl’s dream and you couldn’t think of a single reason not to want this, yet every single alarm was going off in your head. 
“I do know Mr. Kim, but as kind as he is do you think the rest of your friends would be as enthused by meeting me? Your assistant, who is a single mother to a three year old?” 
His brows furrowing, Wonwoo grips the steering wheel tighter once again. He remembers a couple of his friends bringing up your occupation and a few others bringing up your status as a single mother. He didn’t care what those friends thought because the ones who really cared about him supported him and encouraged him, just like Mingyu had. 
“Y/N…” Wonwoo sighs out your name, glancing down at your hands, before looking back out at the road in front of him. He wished he was close enough to you to take your hand, to glide his thumb along yours and to explain this while having that contact with you. “You’ll meet them one day and they will fall in love with you so easily. It’s impossible not to.” 
The silence in the car was deafening. You didn’t know if he had meant those words the way they had come across but even Wonwoo seemed to realize what he had said as he tugged on the turtleneck that now seemed to be suffocating him as he drove. 
Smiling, you look out the window, opting to hum along with the radio for a moment before finally putting Wonwoo out of his misery by glancing over at him. It was clear he was stressed; this conversation wasn’t going exactly as planned but in truth, he wasn’t sure how he had planned it. 
“I’m sorry I’m being so difficult, Wonwoo. I’m not trying to push you away. I’m just…nervous.” You look down and away from Wonwoo as he glances from the road to you, listening to you speak. “I haven’t really dated much since I got divorced. It’s not exactly a conversation starter.” 
Divorced. Right. Wonwoo nods and licks his lips. Your ex was your ex-husband. Why hadn’t that dawned on him before? It didn’t change anything; it just meant he needed to figure out more about you and your life. 
“How long were you married?” 
You laugh, surprised that Wonwoo was going to literally use what you had said as a conversation starter. He was different, that was certain. Shrugging, you decided to just lay out all of your cards. The worst that could happen was losing your job and the date going poorly, so what else could go wrong?
“Four years. We got divorced about a year and a half ago.” Glancing at your phone, you look at the date and count in your head before nodding. “Two weeks ago.” 
Wonwoo does math in his head and lets out a breath with a long sigh. That was a longer time than he had anticipated and yet it was a short amount of time when you considered what he wanted from a marriage. 
“What is his name?” 
Picking at a string on your purse, you run your tongue along your lips, considering Wonwoo’s question before just answering it. 
“Kang Daniel, and he is Jacob’s father.” 
Grimacing at how you had answered his question, Wonwoo glances over at you and tilts his head. 
“I figured he was, Y/N. If you don’t want to talk about—" 
“It’s fine…  I’ve just had men assumed that perhaps that was why Daniel and I weren’t together anymore. I cheated and had Jacob. It’s not; we were happy with Jacob. We just weren’t happy together.” 
Wonwoo hated that people treated you that way; the thought had never even crossed his mind. He never assumed the separation had ever been your fault. He knew there were a million reasons marriages failed and for a great many of them, neither party was at fault. 
“I would never assume something about you. I would rather learn about you. You are a great mother." 
Smiling softly, you nod, the string between your fingers like a safety net as you whisper out your words just loudly enough for Wonwoo to hear. 
“Thank you. I try.” 
“It shows. Jacob is a great kid. You can tell he has a really good life.” 
You worked hard to make sure he did and you knew that Daniel tried to do the same. His life was different from yours and that had been part of the problem with your marriage. He was always gone, and when he was there, he was still gone in his head until it came to Jacob. 
“I do my best and I know Daniel does too. I have primary custody of Jacob. It’s just easier. I'm more stable.” You knew that Wonwoo didn’t ask for the details but he did say he wanted to learn. This was the most important part of your life, your son. If anything, he needed to learn about it. "Daniel travels for work often but sees Jacob once a week for two days. I’ll get him back Monday morning before work. It’s the hardest two days of my life, every single week.” 
Wonwoo watches your finger wrap a loose string around it and he wants to grab your hand again and offer you comfort. While its clear there is no animosity between you and your ex, your love for your son is even more evident. 
“I’m sure he misses you too.” 
You laugh and shrug, reaching into your purse to take out your phone to show Wonwoo the picture that Daniel had sent you of Jacob. The small boy's face was covered in bits of syrup, and a destroyed pancake was in front of him. The next picture shows the man and your son, both leaning against an older model Mustang as Jacob holds up a toy car. 
“He’s having a great time with his dadda. He needs that time with him. I’d never take that time away from him.” 
Smiling at the pictures, Wonwoo then smiles at you, in awe of you. It would be so easy to be the type of person to want to keep Jacob all to themselves and instead you wanted him to love and be loved. It said alot about you and who you were and it made him want you even more. 
Turning into the parking lot of a smaller restaurant, Wonwoo watches you perk up out of the corner of his eye as he pulls into a reserved space turning his car off. You look around curiously before finally turning to him as clearly this wasn’t what you had expected. 
“Hm? I promise it doesn’t look like much but it’s the best money can buy. I wanted something special for you.” 
Holding up his hand, you smile at Wonwoo as he tells you to wait for him when you go to reach the door. Rolling your eyes, you turn to watch him jog around the car and make it over to you, opening the door and offering you his hand. He was ridiculous but you were starting to enjoy it. 
Wonwoo waits with his fingers extended, slightly trembling out of nerves, until you slide your hand into his and step out of his car next to him, looking up into his eyes with your bright, sweet smile. Wrapping his hand around your fingers, Wonwoo keeps his touch loose but dares to brush his along the back of your hand as he gestures with his right towards the walkway. 
“There isn’t even a sign for this place, Wonwoo…” 
A small grin plays on Wonwoo’s lips at your hushed words. He nods and leans towards you, causing you to take in a sharp breath when you feel the warmth of his breath against your ear as he speaks in hushed tones as he whispers like it’s a secret and dozens of people are listening. 
“I know, it’s invite only. Like I said, special.” Standing up straight, Wonwoo moves your hand to his arm, resting his right hand over it for a moment as he takes in a breath of the crisp air and walks you to the front of the building. “It’s called Éblouissante.” 
Running your fingers over his jacket, you feel goosebumps spread along your skin at how soft the fabric is under your touch. It was expensive; he was just expensive and here you were feeling like you were cheapening his brand. 
Meanwhile, Wonwoo was thinking the furthest thing from what was on your mind. He felt like the luckiest man in the world with you on his arm. You were beautiful and he didn’t care how much your clothes cost or how much you spent on your accessories. All Wonwoo cared about was you, and you were worth more to him than anything money could buy. 
Smiling at the hostess, Wonwoo offers her his phone, letting her check his reservation code before she grins widely, welcoming him in. Her gaze then falls to you and you are surprised when it doesn’t change from how she had been looking at Wonwoo. She gives you just as much respect before offering to take your jackets and leading you to your table, of which there were only ten in the entire restaurant. 
“Oh my god, this place is wild. I swear that Yoon Jeonghan was sitting across the room.” 
You shake your head as you speak, making Wonwoo tilt his head before he leans up, looking for the man and grinning. You watch him wave before you see; in fact, Yoon Jeonghan does the same back to him. 
“You’ve got to be kidding me." 
“He’s not that important; he just thinks he is. His last movie sucked and he knows it.” 
Of course, he would know Yoon Jeonghan. Why wouldn’t Jeon Wonwoo know actors, multi-million dollar CEOs? Hell, he probably knew politicians by name as well. 
“I liked it…” 
Wonwoo grins at your words, crossing his leg over his knee as you look at your menu, noting the lack of prices attached to any of the listings. 
“You can let him know.” 
Jeonghan glances over your back before walking past you to lean down and hug Wonwoo with a chuckle. It had been too long since he had seen his friend. You watch, trying to keep your mouth closed, as two of the most handsome men you have ever met in your life talk as if they had known each other for the better part of their lives. Perhaps they had. 
“Fancy running into you here, Wonwoo. The last time I saw Gyu, he said you ditched because of work. Junhui was sad…tell me you’ve gone back to his place and eaten at least." 
Wonwoo sighs as Jeonghan reaches out to pat his cheek before laughing once again. Of course Mingyu had said something and of course he had missed someone else at that last lunch. 
“I have and in my defense, Mingyu didn’t tell me you were going to join us.” Glancing at you as you try not to intrude, instead you choose to look over the wine list, Wonwoo grins, letting out a soft breath and gesturing towards you. “Jeonghan, this is Y/N Y/L/N.” 
His eyes widening, Jeonghan mouths your first name towards Wonwoo, who gives him a look, only causing the actor to smirk. Turning his attention to you, Jeonghan gives you a dazzling smile, reaching his hand out for yours and saying your name sweetly. 
“It’s so nice to finally meet you. You are even more gorgeous than Wonwoo let on. My god…” 
With your fingers resting in his, you feel your face burning from Jeonghan’s words. You figured he would be a smooth talker given his career but then again, you had never dreamed in a million years that you would be talking to Jeonghan much less like this. 
“I–thank you? He’s spoken about me?” 
Jeonghan trails his thumb over your fingernails, assessing you as he nods, feeling Wonwoo’s eyes on him, knowing he is annoying the man. He knew exactly what he was doing and he wanted to rile him up because he wanted that fire inside of his friend to flame hotter when it came to you. He was tired of watching his friend pine and pine and never go for the gold. 
"Oh, often, and always good things, scouts honor. I’m so happy to see him finally taking you out, like he’s been wanting to. He’d be an idiot not to. I mean, seriously, Y/N…you are stunning.” Grinning at how you shy away from compliments, Jeonghan glances towards Wonwoo, who purses his lips, glancing to where your fingers barely hang on to the other man’s.
Jeonghan laughs, leaning down to press a kiss to your knuckles before letting you take your hand back completely. “If you aren’t 100% satisfied with your date, let me know. Think of me as quality assurance.” 
You scoff into a laugh at his blunt flirting in front of his friend as Wonwoo groans in annoyance. Jeonghan simply laughs, winking at you, before knocking his hip against Wonwoo’s arm as he grumbles about having his own date to get back to. 
“I do, and she’s a sweetheart but not really my type. However, she is my next co-star so I need to be nice and treat her to a meal. You two have the most wonderful evening, and remember what I said, Y/N.” 
Watching Jeonghan saunter away, you shake your head before looking back at Wonwoo, who pinches the bridge of his nose as if he’s getting a headache. You can’t help but pout towards him, feeling bad for your own actions. It wasn’t as if you had flirted back with his friend, but you hadn’t exactly told him to back off. 
“I–I’m sorry…” 
Glancing up at you, Wonwoo looks confused before he smiles at you, reaching out to take your fingers in his hand and shaking his head. 
“For what? Jeonghan? I should be sorry. I knew exactly how he’d act. He’s predictable. He was trying to get a rise out of me, and he got what he wanted. He made me jealous.” 
Wonwoo was jealous? Jealous of another man flirting with you? You can’t help but smile and bite at your bottom lip, looking down at your hand in Wonwoo’s grasp as he rubs your fingers before letting go of them in place of picking up his menu. 
“You don’t have to be jealous. I–well, I’m not interested in him. He’s handsome and funny but I don’t know him, and I don’t feel anything towards him.” 
A small smile threatens the corners of Wonwoo’s lips as he scans over the different wines. His eyes are glancing at you once again over his glasses, before he rubs his lips together and lifts his head to meet your eyes completely. 
“That is relieving. I’d hate to have to ruin his date.” 
Laughing softly, you shake your head at his dramatics before sighing towards your menu. You weren’t even sure what half of the words said. Making a face, you look back towards Wonwoo, whose eyes had never left you. It was clear you were struggling but he could only smile. 
“Could…okay. You seem to understand what this menu says. So could you pick something to drink and something to eat?” 
Nodding, Wonwoo uncrosses his legs in order to lean towards you, showing you his menu. 
“Have you eaten much today?” 
Shaking your head, you watch him furrow his brow out of concern before he simply nods and runs his finger over the menu, pointing out a few things. 
“We can stay simple. I don’t like this place because it is incredibly fancy, Y/N. I enjoy it because the food is out of this world. The wine is old and worth the price every time I take a sip. I wanted you to experience that.” 
Your cheeks once again flair up with warmth, a bit of tingling in your stomach as you simply nod and mutter an okay to his words as he walks you through his ideas for dinner. You were hungry and everything sounded amazing. 
“Have we made a decision on what we will be enjoying this evening?” 
The server's voice pulls you and Wonwoo out of your little bubble and causes Wonwoo to let out a soft sigh as he nods. 
“We have. Two glasses of Gevrey-Chambertin François Leclerc. We will share the half baguette while we wait for the rest of our food. For the lady, she will have the truffle and mushroom risotto, and I will have the Bouillabaisse.” 
You watch Wonwoo order with such ease, the words slipping off his tongue as if he had ordered food such as this a hundred times before, when you realize he probably has. The server smiles at the order and collects the menus, promising to be back as soon as possible. 
Wonwoo leans back in his chair, his eyes moving across your face and down to where your hands nervously mess with the end of your napkin, causing him to smile softly. You were anxious again. He was still trying to figure you out completely, and he had a feeling he would be doing that for a long time. 
“What’s on your mind?” 
Looking back up when he speaks, you smile, meeting Wonwoo’s eyes. Your fingers are still rubbing over the cloth napkin as you laugh softly and shake your head. You watch as he picks up his glass of water, taking a long sip and giving you time to collect your thoughts. He never rushed you; he just waited and listened. 
“Well, I’m thinking about a lot of things. About Jacob, about what he is doing and should be doing right now. It’s his bedtime but I doubt Daniel has put him down. He never does it on time.” 
Smiling, Wonwoo tilts his head a bit as you take in a breath and furrow your brows. You loved talking about Jacob; that was the easier point of conversation. Everything else was hard. 
"Uh, thinking about work. I’m thinking about how nice all of this is and how much it must cost.” Knowing you are starting to ramble, you laugh into your words, lifting your hand to brush your fingertips against your lips before finally giving in and being vulnerable. “I’m thinking about you and how much I am enjoying spending time with you and what that means.” 
Wonwoo had known there was something on your mind, perhaps a lot but hearing you say it out loud made him take a pause and take a deep breath. He understood your hesitation but all he ever wanted to do was put you at ease with all that he could. 
Leaning forward once again, Wonwoo rests his arm on the table as he looks at you in the candlelight. You were seamlessly beautiful without trying. Even though he knew you had tried tonight to hide the circles under your eyes, he could see them in the lighting and it didn’t matter. The thought makes Wonwoo smile, seeing you in what you were tonight or in just sweats on his couch, your hair messy, no makeup. 
“Let’s go one by one."
Watching you nod, Wonwoo sighs, only pausing long enough to watch the server drop off the wine and bread. He watches the man pour wine into your glass and then he nods at him and looks back at you, continuing. 
“You trust Daniel with Jacob so I’m sure he is just fine, but at any time you are with me, if you want to call and check on him, you are welcome to. I will never stop you from being a mother. That is the most important thing to you and therefore the most important thing to me, Y/N.” 
Swallowing hard, you feel the tension in your chest lessen. One fear you always had with any man was that he would feel jealous of your relationship with your son or try to change it. So hearing Wonwoo on a first date put that fear to rest made you take a sigh of relief. 
Picking up his wine, Wonwoo gestures towards you, urging you to do the same before he places his glass against his lips, taking a small sip while watching you do the same. He wanted to make sure you approved of his choice. Wonwoo watches your brows furrow, then rise. You pull the glass from your lips and smile, causing Wonwoo to do the same. 
“Good? It’s smooth; in this one, I can taste the strawberries and liquorice. It’s nice.” 
You laugh softly, only nodding to agree as you take another sip and enjoy the feel of the wine on your tongue. Wonwoo grins, thinking to himself how much he enjoys watching you enjoy something. It was something he could get used to. Picking up a piece of bread, Wonwoo puts a bit of butter on it, taking a bite of it with an approving sound before continuing what he had started. 
“Then you mentioned work.” He watches you nod as you reach for your own piece of the baguette to follow his lead. “There is nothing in the rules about my company that says anything about relationships in the company. I expect people to act like adults. That includes myself.” 
He wasn’t wrong; you had read your company policy book back to front after joining the company and recently, just to check on the rules about dating your boss, there had been nothing. Swallowing the bite in your mouth, you wipe your lips and take another sip of your wine before furrowing your brows and gesturing towards him. 
“People already talk about us, Wonwoo. Isn’t that going to be uncomfortable for you?”
“Is it uncomfortable for you?” 
With the question put back on you, Wonwoo watches as you take a breath, leaning back in your seat. 
“Slightly. I don’t want them to think that I slept my way into a position.” 
Smiling, Wonwoo attempts to keep the laugh from slipping between his lips but fails, causing you to gawk at him in disbelief. 
“I’m serious!” 
“So am I, Y/N. I couldn’t care less what they think about me. As long as they are happy in their position in my company, that is all that should matter to them. If they think so little of you, perhaps they aren’t happy in that position.” 
Your brows furrow once more at Wonwoo’s words and how much sense they make. You hadn’t considered that. It wasn’t as if you were making much more than anyone else on the second floor or the first for that matter. The salaries weren’t kept a secret, bonuses were given regularly, and promotions were announced publicly in the company. 
Gesturing to the wine and the table, Wonwoo shakes his head before looking back up at you with a small sigh. 
“As for this, how much does it cost? How much anything costs that I give you or treat you to doesn’t matter to me. I’m not saying that as a way of gloating.” He could already see the look in your eye and you weren’t impressed, but he wasn’t trying to impress you like that. “I’m simply saying that I am not concerned with how much dinner costs when time matters more to me. Enjoying delicious food and drinks long with it? That is just a bonus. We could do this in my living room, eating chips and drinking beer and I’d still be just as thrilled because I’m spending time with you.” 
You start to speak but Wonwoo holds up his finger, giving you an apologetic look. He wanted to hear what you had to say in response but he wasn’t finished just yet. 
“Money isn’t everything, and I can tell it’s something that is weighing on your mind. I’m not trying to use it to impress you. I wasn’t always living the way I do now, Y/N. Sometimes, it’s even too much for me. But I won’t apologize for wanting to treat you to nice things.” 
The last of his words takes your breath away. You bite at your lips before lifting your wine to take a larger sip of it as the server approaches your table once again, sitting your meals in front of you with a quick bon appétit before leaving you both once again to enjoy your food. 
“Wonwoo…” Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo smiles as you say his name, even though he can feel the apprehension behind it. You hadn’t meant to offend him or make him defend his success but that is what had happened in a way. “I’m sorry. I do appreciate this meal. I appreciate you wanting to treat me to nice things; I am just not used to it. It scares me a little.” 
That was understandable. Wonwoo could remember the first time money really started hitting his bank account and how terrifying it was to think it could all just vanish as quickly as it had appeared. He had been smart then and he was smart now. 
“I get that; I really do. I’ll do whatever I can to help you not be so scared. Try your risotto. It looks great.” 
Smiling, you let your shoulders relax when you realize he isn’t upset with you but instead he is still trying to make you feel okay about the situation. Dipping his spoon into his soup, Wonwoo watches you eat a bit of your food, your eyes closing as you take in the explosion of different flavors on your tongue. 
“Oh my god…” 
Wonwoo grins, eating a bit of the soup with a nod as you open your eyes to look at him as if he had given you the most special gift in the entire world with the first bite of food. Taking a second bite, you shake your head and allow Wonwoo to just enjoy you for a few moments before he sits back, sipping his wine, before swirling the red liquid in the glass, almost as if he’s lost in thought. 
“Before, the last thing you said that was on your mind was me. You said that you were thinking about me, how you are enjoying spending time with me, and what it means.” 
Clearing your throat, you reach for your water, taking a large drink of it before wiping your mouth clean with your napkin and nodding subtly to Wonwoo’s words. The man smiles, running his thumb along the bowl of his glass as he looks over your face before biting at his bottom lip and sighing. 
“What do you think it means, Y/N?” 
Why was he always turning this around on you? You could once again feel your face heating up. Now you were reaching for your wine as Wonwoo chuckled quietly, tipping his own wine back to his lips, savoring it on his tongue as you just let it hit your throat quickly. Only when it feels like the wine is down do you try to speak. 
“I’m not—I don’t know. I think it means that I like you. God, that sounds stupid, because I know I like you. I’ve liked you for... Jesus, ever.” You whine as you gesture towards Wonwoo, making him laugh nervously, his face heating up this time as well as his neck as he reaches up to pull at his turtleneck out of nerves. “How could anyone not? You are gorgeous and, well, you. You are so kind and treat Jacob so well. I couldn’t help but start to fall—I started to like you.” 
Glancing down, Wonwoo tries to play it cool and not smile like an idiot but fails. You were too cute, and the answer was too sweet. God, he liked you; he more than liked you. You were perfect. You watch Wonwoo’s nose scrunch in the most perfect way as he smiles and your heart melts as you feel yourself falling even harder for the man in front of you. Why did he have to be perfect? 
“For a long time huh?” You just nod and Wonwoo laughs nodding along with you reaching across the table to run his fingers along yours, letting you take his hand this time. “Me too. I think I started talking to Mingyu about you two weeks after I hired you. About how pretty you were and how my day had never felt so bright.” 
Whining, you look down at your half eaten risotto making Wonwoo laugh against as he pulls his fingers from your hand to reach for your chin tilting your head up so you will look at him. Your eyes were beautiful and just had to see them again, especially with that almost desperate love sick look in them as he ran his thumb along your jaw and you leaned into it. 
“I’m serious, you are so beautiful and I am so lucky to have found you. Not just as my assistant…like this. I’m sorry I was such an idiot and waited so long.” 
Reaching up to wrap your hand around his wrist you shake your head not knowing what to say. His words didn’t seem real, and you felt like if you tried to say anything you’d just make a fool of yourself, so luckily you were saved by the voice of the server. 
“How is everything? Would you like a dessert? How about a cocktail to end your evening?” 
Wonwoo sighs into a laugh, dropping his hand from your face. He wasn’t upset with the man but he had some timing. Looking back over to you, Wonwoo waits for your answer but as you look at the menus, a bit confused, he sighs and clicks his tongue against his teeth before pursing his lips in thought. 
“Sure, make tonight special. The moka French cheesecake, a parisian blonde, and a carajillo.”
Pleased with Wonwoo’s order, the server takes the menu’s back and leaves you alone once again, causing the silence to be deafening. You can’t help but smile as you take one last bite of your food and sigh, daring to look up and meet Wonwoo’s eyes as he looks at you intently. 
“You’re staring at me.”
Grinning, Wonwoo tips back the last of his wine. You were observant. He had been staring but he just couldn’t stop looking at you in the candlelight. 
“Sorry, you can’t see yourself in this light but it’s hard to look away.” 
Tsking, you try to ignore his flattering remarks, knowing you can’t look as good as he is trying to make you feel, though you appreciate his efforts. Rubbing your hands together in your lap, you swallow hard and glance around the room to the other tables, noticing Jeonghan getting up to leave. A quick two finger salute in your and Wonwoo’s direction makes you shake your head, before you nod at him and Wonwoo sighs while doing the same. 
“He’s encourageable, but he does mean well. I hope you’ll meet some of my other friends. They aren’t all like Jeonghan. Some of them are even likeable…” 
Smiling at his words, you pick up your wine, finishing off the last of it, savoring what you can before offering him a soft, amused laugh. 
“I like Mr. Kim. He’s very funny and not that hard on the eyes.” 
Wonwoo rolls his eyes and scoffs before pausing once again as the server returns with drinks and the largest slice of cheesecake that you have ever seen in your entire life. Leaning forward, he slides the cocktail towards you and pulls the smaller, simple, dark drink towards himself.   
“Just call him Mingyu. You seriously boost his ego too much. He isn’t even here, and I’m sure it’s inflating by proxy.” 
Running your fingers along the bottom of your glass, you laugh so sweetly that Wonwoo feels his chest tighten. He loves your laugh, especially when it sounds like that. It’s like bells on the best day of the year, marking every hour something good is happening. But every single thing that is good is you. 
“He’s my best friend but honestly, I have a tight friend group of about..." You watch Wonwoo do a quick count in his head as he narrows one eye closed before nodding. “Twelve guys. They each have their issues but they are all good people. You met Jeonghan tonight; despite his bullshit, he’s reliable.” 
Twelve close friends. God, you weren’t sure you had two people you could call close friends. Wonwoo was incredibly lucky. Shaking your head, you simply smile before taking a sip of your cocktail, making a surprised and happy sound to the taste of it before pulling back from it to look at Wonwoo, who grins. 
“I thought you’d like that one. It is one of my favorites when I’m in the mood for something sweeter and some rum.” 
Pointing to his drink, you take another sip before licking your lips. 
“What did you order?” 
Wonwoo lifts his drink, tilting it before taking a sip and nodding to the taste. It was simple but what he wanted for the night. 
“A carajillo. It’s liquor 43 and espresso. Simple but delicious.” 
Taking another sip, Wonwoo then sets the drink aside in place of picking up his spoon, cutting off the tip of the cheesecake, and turning it towards you. 
"The first bite is yours. It’s their signature dessert.” 
Pressing your lips together, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol making your face feel warm or the idea of Wonwoo feeding you but you just smiled. Wonwoo’s lips curve up into a matching smile before he lifts the spoon upwards to entice you, causing you to finally give in and lean in, taking the dessert from his spoon as he watches. 
The entire act is more intimate than you intended, but you quickly feel that embarrassed feeling fade as the luxurious dessert starts to melt on your tongue and you reach up to cover your lips in shock. Wonwoo just grins at your reaction and cuts into the dessert, turning his spoon towards himself this time to take a bite. 
“Mm, I don’t admit this to many people but I usually order an entire cheesecake to take home when I eat here.” 
Laughing at Wonwoo’s confession, you put your hand over your chest, reaching for your own spoon to cut off another bite as you shake your head. It was like eating happiness from a plate and sharing it with Wonwoo, which somehow made it even better. 
“I don’t think anyone would blame you, least of all me. I don’t even know how much it costs, and I would still buy an entire one to take home.” 
Smiling around his spoon, Wonwoo lifts his hand to get the server's attention, who comes over promptly with a smile on his face. 
"Yes, sir, are you enjoying the dessert?” 
You look up midbite with a smile on your face, causing Wonwoo to laugh and nod. 
“Absolutely. Could we please get a full cheesecake to go? Also, give my compliments to the kitchen." 
Reaching into his pocket, Wonwoo watches the server start to say something he doesn’t like but the moment a business card is in his hand and the man reads it, he brightens and agrees, walking away. 
“You’re like magic. He was going to say no.” 
Shrugging, Wonwoo cuts off another bite, leaving the rest for you as he sips on his drink, enjoying watching you finish off the dessert. 
“They don’t sell the whole dessert. I’ve been told no before.” 
Furrowing your brows, you sit up, picking up the last of the cheesecake, tilting your head as you do. 
“But seeing Jeon Wonwoo, CEO of Jeon Infrastructures LLC, changes their mind." 
Turning your spoon towards Wonwoo this time causes the man to perk up. You watch Wonwoo lean forward, accepting the last of the dessert from you this time, before he smiles and nods, feeling a bit proud of himself. 
“Mm, usually. I don’t use it much but getting the dessert I want seems like a good enough reason to bring up that you are Forbes 30 under 30 blah blah bullshit.” 
You were falling for this man. Most people in his position would use his name for discounts and to get free things in designer stores, but no, Jeon Wonwoo used it to buy cheesecake. You loved that he didn’t take himself so seriously or the Forbes title. Leaning in your elbow on the table, you smile at Wonwoo, sincerely causing him to laugh, feeling shy at your attention. 
“What did I do?”
Shaking your head, you use the straw of your drink to take a sip before lifting your brows and sighing happily. 
“Exceeded my expectations.” 
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With the cheesecake securely placed in the backseat floorboard, you watch Wonwoo grin at you from his driverside window before he opens the door and slides in beside you, starting the car. 
“Will the cheesecake make it?”   
Laughing, Wonwoo purses his lips and leans his head back against the headrest before nodding firmly. 
“She’ll make it. Couldn’t have something so precious sliding around the backseat or the trunk. Speaking of…” 
Furrowing your brows, you laugh when Wonwoo leans across the center console to reach over you, grabbing your seatbelt to click it into place. 
“Now everything precious in my car is secure.” 
“You are so full of shit, Jeon Wonwoo.” 
Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo glances down at your lips with a small chuckle before moving back into his seat. He wanted to kiss you but like this, in his car? That wasn’t the move. No matter how pretty you were, no matter how much he wanted it, he could wait. 
“Maybe, but it’s true.” 
You could tell he wanted to kiss you and you were almost sad when Wonwoo moved back from you. Your breath had hitched in your throat but at the same time, you felt relief when he hadn’t kissed you. You needed time to get your brain in the right place. Shaking your head, you reach up to brush your hair from your forehead and clear your throat into a small laugh as Wonwoo drives back in the direction of your house. 
“Such a smooth talker. Not as smooth as Jeonghan, but pretty smooth.” 
A gasp of faux shock leaves Wonwoo’s mouth, causing you to laugh as he reaches over from the gearshift to slide his fingers along your wrist and into your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 
“I’m appalled.” 
Glancing down at your hand and Wonwoo's, you feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around to the point where you feel queasy. You can’t help but smile like a girl falling in love for the first time as you bite at your lip and shake your head, trying to regain your composure. 
"Oh, I’m sure you are. Entirely appalled and disgusted.” 
Wonwoo grins, his thumb gliding along yours as his hand rests on your lap. He feels the fingers of your other hand tracing the back of his hand and Wonwoo thinks he has died and gone to heaven over such a simple action. 
“I am, completely.” 
You just smile, looking down at Wonwoo’s hand as you trace each of his fingers, watching as he extends them to let you do so. Your head is tilting as you marvel at how pretty his hand is and how much you are enjoying his attention. You had almost forgotten what you were talking about, so much so that you just hummed out a sound to his words, making Wonwoo glance at you and smile as you lean your head back on the headrest and close your eyes. 
“Take a nap; it’s a long drive.” 
Wonwoo watches you shake your head no, muttering something about keeping him company but as soon as he starts to tell you it’s okay, he’s smiling at your soft breath, knowing you lost your own fight. 
Sliding his hand from yours, Wonwoo reaches up to brush his fingers over your cheek before keeping his hands on the wheel, unwilling to let anything happen to the most precious thing in the car while he was driving. 
When you feel the car come to a stop and hear Wonwoo’s deep but soft voice say your name, you furrow your brows, instantly realizing what had happened. Opening your eyes slowly, you frown, seeing the front of your house, before looking over to a smiling Wonwoo who chuckles at your cute frown. 
“You let me sleep.” 
Wonwoo nods, reaching to brush his thumb across your cheek as you whine his name, feeling frustrated with yourself. 
“Of course I did. You had drinks and I know you don’t sleep enough. You weren’t asleep for more than an hour. Come on, don't be upset.” 
You just pout at Wonwoo as you undo your seatbelt, causing the man to laugh once again. You were unbearably cute and all he wanted to do was take care of you. He wanted to take you inside and make love to you, let you curl up against him, and sleep the night away but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight. 
“Seriously, I’m happy you got some rest. Let me walk you to the door.” 
Watching Wonwoo slide from his seat, you are surprised to see him stop at the backseat, taking out the cheesecake, before he moves to your door to see you looking at him suspiciously. 
“I got it for you.” 
You wanted to hit him but you were afraid he would drop the probably incredibly expensive cheesecake and it was far too delicious for that. 
“Why? It’s your favorite.” 
Wonwoo hums in agreement, moving to the side so you can stand beside him and lead him towards your front door. 
“But you are my favorite and you liked it so much. Maybe I can enjoy a piece of it sometime soon.” 
Swallowing hard, you understand the underlying message of his words. Did he want to be invited inside? For cheesecake, were you the cheesecake? God, you were being ridiculous and reading far too much into this. 
Wonwoo can almost see the wheels turning in your head as he stands beside you on your porch. It was cold; you were already shivering and as much as he wanted to stay and talk to you and be with you for longer, he didn’t want you to catch a cold. You watch as he turns to set the bag down in a chair on your front porch before turning back to you with a smile. 
“I hope you had a good time." 
You tilt your head a bit like a confused puppy and Wonwoo can’t help but coo at you under his breath, taking a step towards you to not only block the wind but also run his hands along your arms over your coat. 
“Yeah, I did. Thank you. I would love to see you again.” 
That made Wonwoo smile brighter than you had seen all night. He knew he had done this right. Nodding, Wonwoo bites at his bottom lip, glancing at yours, before sighing your name and closing his eyes briefly before biting the bullet and speaking up. 
“May I kiss you?” 
He was asking? God, your head was spinning. You couldn’t remember the last date you went on, and at the end of the date, the man actually asked you before he kissed you. This was some romance novel shit and you were living for it. Nodding, you whimper out a yes as Wonwoo’s thumb brushes your jawline up to your ear. 
A small smile pulls at Wonwoo’s lips as he nods to let you know he heard you before he leans down to brush his lips against yours for the first time, listening to your whine into the kiss. You were so cute and the sound went straight to his head and his pants. 
Gripping your arms briefly to calm himself, Wonwoo then slides his hands down to yours, taking them into his own and linking his fingers with yours before deepening the kiss. He wanted more; he could taste the chocolate still on your tongue but mostly he could just taste you and that was intoxicating. You were better than he had even imagined. 
Leaning up to meet his kiss, you tighten your hands in Wonwoo's, digging your nails into the back of his hands when Wonwoo’s tongue glides along yours. This was one hell of a first kiss. He was making your knees feel weak, your stomach was doing flips, and all your body was doing was screaming his name. 
Pulling back from the kiss gently, Wonwoo nudges your nose with his as he smiles, feeling you chase him. He wanted to give you more. He wanted to give in and ask to come inside but he knew he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to be that guy. He didn’t want to give you that impression of him. So instead, he leans to kiss your cheek and then your jaw, listening to your whimper as he catches his breath, keeping his voice low. 
“Goodnight, Y/N.” 
Holding the cheesecake in your arms, you rest your back against the door, listening to Wonwoo’s car drive out of your driveway and disappear down the road before you can make yourself move. Your lips still tingling, you close your eyes and stomp your feet like Jacob during one of his tantrums before walking towards the kitchen, putting the box into the fridge, and shutting it with more force than necessary. 
You weren’t mad at Wonwoo for leaving. You knew it was for the best. You weren’t that girl. You didn’t give yourself up the first day but for him...  God, you would have. After that kiss, you were uncomfortable and needy and all you wanted was to call him and tell him to come back and finish what he had started but instead you kicked your shoes off and fell on your bed, whispering Wonwoo’s name like a prayer. 
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Leaning against your counter, you look at your phone, wondering if you were being silly or if you were being dramatic. It was just a phone call. He could say no. He could say yes. Which would be worse? Neither if you never called. 
Groaning to yourself, you hit Wonwoo’s name in your contacts list and put your phone to your ear, listening to its ring as you bite at your thumbnail. Finally, you hear his deep voice say your name on the other end. Instantly, you can’t help but smile and feel shy, just whispering back a hi. 
Wonwoo had wanted to call or text you all day but he didn’t want to see you desperate or crowd you. He felt like he had done enough of that the night before with his kiss but he couldn’t get you off his mind. Not that he wanted to. All he could remember was the taste of your lips and the feeling of you against his chest. So hearing you smile through the phone made Wonwoo feel giddy. 
“Hey, how are you? What are you up to?” 
You had called him; he shouldn’t have to lead the conversation but you were glad he was because the moment you heard him speak, you felt like a teenager trying to remember how to talk to a boy. Flexing your toes on the tile under your feet, you smile into your words, wrinkling your nose as you try to calm yourself down, knowing where you want this conversation to go. 
“I’m okay; how about you? And, uh, I’m just lazing around the house...  I wanted to see if you wanted to come over and watch a movie. Eat some of that cheesecake.” 
Wonwoo leans his head back on his couch and grins. He wasn’t even sure how he had been feeling a moment before you asked him over but now he was nothing but perfect. Laughing into his words, Wonwoo tries to hide the smirk in his voice but fails. 
“I’d love to. Anytime, or did you have something in mind?” 
God, why did he sound so sexy today? Maybe it was because you were letting yourself think about him that way. Whereas yesterday you were keeping it more professional and trying not to let yourself get ahead of the game, but now... there was a rasp to his voice. You could listen to him talk all day long. You could listen to him telling you what to do all nig–
“Y/N?” 
Fuck, you had started daydreaming and hadn’t answered out loud. Clearing your throat, you press your thighs together and let out a breath away from the phone before nodding. 
“Anytime is good.” 
Wonwoo could hear your voice shake, and it made him curious as to why that was happening. It caused something in his brain to fire off, his hand tightening into a fist over his knee as he smiles and looks down at the floor. 
“Then I’ll get ready and head over. I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”
Shit, holy shit. You just whine out an okay to finish the call when Wonwoo calls you beautiful as a pet name. You had gone far too long without being touched, and now you were acting like some touched, starved lunatic even after touching yourself last night. 
Smacking your hands against your thighs, you shake them out as if shaking out the anxiety and glance at the clock, trying to calculate how much time you would have before Wonwoo showed up, and you needed to be as normal as possible. 
Perhaps Wonwoo broke a few speeding laws in order to make the best time he could to get to your house, but he had figured out what that sound was in your voice. You had sounded needy, and now Wonwoo was fighting an internal battle with himself to keep it in his pants. That wasn’t why he was over at your house. He was here for cheesecake, a movie, and your company. 
Ringing your doorbell, Wonwoo is a bit shocked at the difference in time it takes for you to open the door compared to the day prior. Today, you still took his breath away. Your makeup was light; you looked a bit better rested, but your clothes were casual. He loved you like this. You looked perfect. 
He hadn’t dressed up either, opting for a simple black longsleeved shirt, jeans, and a jacket now discarded. You were still looking at him like he was dressed in a suit that cost more than your paycheck. 
“Hey.” 
“Hi…”
Things were awkward but it wasn’t because neither of you wanted to be there; instead, there was so much unspoken and undone. There was tension in the air and Wonwoo wasn’t sure how to ease it so instead he just laughed softly, leaning to press a gentle kiss to the corner of your lips. 
“You look pretty.” 
God, he had to stop saying things. Just stop speaking all together, or you are not going to make it. Giving him a pained smile, you just laugh, lifting your hand to your neck to rub it as you move into the kitchen, letting him follow you a bit confused. 
“Did I say something wrong?” 
Wonwoo watches you shake your head. His eyes follow you as you take the cheesecake out of the fridge and then a plate from your cabinet to put one slice on it. 
“Not even close.” 
Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo leans towards you over the island as you take out a spoon and finally glance up at him. 
“Then tell me what’s going on. I don’t wanna fuck this up.” 
Biting your lip, you sigh and lean your head back, making Wonwoo laugh softly as he watches you be dramatic. 
“I really like you, Wonwoo. Last night was perfect, and the kiss... I don’t know how to ask for any of this.” 
Tilting his head, Wonwoo smirks a bit when you shoot him a look, turning away to put away the rest of the cheesecake. He follows you, laughing once again, as you seem to almost run away from him with the cheesecake in hand, towards your living room, plopping down on the couch with a pout on your face. 
“Ask for this? I–Y/N…” Reaching out for the plate, Wonwoo sits it on the coffee table before sitting beside you, leaning towards you, and brushing his thumb along your neck, causing you to shiver at his touch. “You want me to kiss you again?” 
When you whine instead of answering, Wonwoo can’t help but coo at you like he did the night before. You were so cute when you couldn’t just speak. You weren’t used to this; you weren’t used to asking for what you wanted or getting what you wanted. Wonwoo was going to change that. 
“I’ll kiss you. Anytime you want. As much as you want.” 
With his lips hovering over yours, Wonwoo smiles when you lean forward, trying to make him keep to his word. You feel his thumb press to the side of your neck, gently keeping you back from him as he tsks softly. Wonwoo brushes his nose against yours and whispers your name as your lips part for him and he gives in by pressing his lips to yours softly. 
Wonwoo loved kissing you already. You were soft and tasted so good that he felt drunk off of you. It didn’t take much for him to want more. Your hands are pulling at his shirt, one tangled in the front and the other pulling him closer to his side. He wanted to push you down on your couch and climb on top of you, but he wanted to take it slow. This wasn’t why you had said you had invited him over. 
Pulling back slowly, Wonwoo gently pecks at your lips before smiling and sitting back, completely listening to you catch your breath. His eyes finally open, and Wonwoo feels his cock twitch already starting to get hard from just kissing you. You looked like a dream. Your lips were bitten and slightly swollen from his kiss. Your chest was rising and falling quickly from how excited you were. 
Wonwoo watches you start to calm down as he leans towards the coffee table to pick up the plate with your cheesecake, cutting off the tip of the dessert, waiting for you to open your eyes before he offers it to you. You can’t help but laugh as he does. 
“In my opinion, the first bite of any dessert is the best bite, and for cheesecake, there is no better bite than the tip of the triangle. You deserve the best.” 
Furrowing your brows, you lean forward, taking the dessert from him, only to smile at the now welcome and comforting taste. Wonwoo’s words make your chest feel tight and warm as he smiles at you, watching you enjoy the first bite as if it were him doing it instead. 
“So what movie are we watching?” 
Halfway through The Family Stone and the second slice of cheesecake, you find yourself wrapped in Wonwoo’s arms. Your legs pulled up onto the couch as he rested his feet on the coffee table once he knew it was okay to do so. 
This was your idea of a perfect evening and the perfect date, but you were still stealing glances at Wonwoo as he chuckled at the movie occasionally and reached up to brush his fingers against your cheek. He was so handsome it was hard not to watch him instead of the movie, and around the twentieth time you had done it, Wonwoo glanced down into your eyes and grins, grabbing your chin between his index finger and thumb before you could look away. 
“Not so fast.” 
He watches as you laugh, knowing you are caught. Wonwoo’s eyes look over your pretty face so close to his own before he leans in to press a kiss to your lips slowly and gently. There was no urgency behind his kiss but it still took your breath away. You couldn’t help but furrow your brows, feeling his tongue play with the idea of touching yours before he would just catch your bottom lip between his teeth and let go with a soft, happy breath. 
Sliding your hand along his chest, you find yourself whining when Wonwoo’s hand slides from your face to your neck and lowers to rest just above your chest. You can feel his thumb pressing against your collarbone, and you want nothing more than to feel his hands all over you. So you press your fingers into his chest and drag them downward over his stomach,feeling him suck in hard and smile against your lips. 
“Fuck—careful. Trying to be good.” 
Shaking your head, you grip his shirt and tug at it, feeling Wonwoo’s hand slide along your arm up to your wrist, keeping your hand in place as you nip at his lips this time. 
“Y/N, I want you too much. If you keep that up…” 
“Why do you think I’m doing it, Wonwoo? Touch me, you idiot.” 
Wonwoo laughs against your mouth as you insult him and then tug at his shirt, pulling your leg along his thigh and begging for him to touch you. God, how could he say no to that? You felt so good against him, and even your breaths sounded so pretty on his lips. 
“You want me to touch you? Here?” 
Sliding his hand from your chest to your shoulder and along your back, your whine furrows your brows as you all but growl annoyed against his lips. Wonwoo grins into the kiss, deepening it as his hand finally moves to your ass, gripping it tightly and earning himself a moan from you as he does. Your hand loosens on his shirt and goes back to scratching at his torso over his shirt until you find a bit of skin just above his jeans and slide your hand under his shirt over his abs, causing Wonwoo to groan your name. 
“Shit…baby.” 
Wonwoo hadn’t meant to call you a pet name, but your nails felt too good scratching his skin as your mouth moved to his neck. You just smile, enjoying it as his fingers dig into your pants under your ass before he presses his fingers between your legs, making you arch your chest towards him, your breath getting caught in your throat.
“This okay?” Wonwoo watches you nod, a soft yeah falling from your lips as he rubs at your pussy through your sweat pants and panties feeling your soft breasts press against his chest through your clothing. “You’re warm, baby. Wanna…God, I wanna —” 
He wasn’t sure he could finish the words but he didn’t have to as you whined his name and met his eyes. The need is evident in your gaze before the words ever leave your lips. 
“Take me to bed, Wonwoo. I need you.” 
He wasn’t even sure where your bedroom was but Wonwoo nodded and let you grab his hand, tugging him up from the couch and towards the hallway. His eyes only move from you once or twice to glance into rooms, noticing which one is Jacob’s before you pull him into your bedroom and drop his hand, letting him decide what to do next. 
Wonwoo just stares at you for a moment in awe. He was overwhelmed with what he could do and what he wanted to do. He had dreamed about this for longer than he was willing to admit. He had pictured laying you on the bed and having you moan his name, and now you were standing in front of him, wanting him to fuck you. 
Stepping forward, Wonwoo shakes his head as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you back into his arms so he can lean down and kiss you deeply once more. He knew he would never get tired of the feeling of your lips against his or the way you melted into his arms as he did it. Your panting moans against his lips are the only reason he pulls back and works his finger tips under your shirt as he walks with you back towards the bed, letting you sit on it as he smiles down at you. 
“I’m so fucking lucky... before we go any further. Baby…I didn’t come over here to plan this. Do you have a condom for me?” 
As you shake your head, Wonwoo feels a bit of disappointment rush through him, but he just nods. There was still plenty he could do. He simply smiles and leans down to press a kiss to your jaw as he lays you back on the bed, dragging your shirt up to your chest over your breasts. 
“That’s okay. I can just take care of you.” 
You shake your head again, lifting your leg to rub along the outside of his thigh before doing the same between his legs, carefully listening to him groan quietly against your stomach as he presses kisses on your skin. 
“No, I have an IUD. I haven’t been with anyone in over a year. Wonwoo…I want you.” 
Burying his face against your breasts, your bra soft against his cheek, Wonwoo groans at your words before glancing up at you with a nod. You were trusting him with something important and he wasn’t going to fuck that up. 
“It’s been over 6 months for me, but I get tested. I am clean…baby if this is what you want, I’m…yeah, I want you too.” 
Arching off the bed, you roll your hips towards Wonwoo’s to answer his question, making him groan into a laugh as you do. 
“Okay…yeah. I got you.”
Wonwoo’s hands find the end of your shirt as you lift your arms, letting him drag it up and over your head. His eyes move over your upper body as if he were looking at a piece of fine art. You can’t help but smile, feeling your cheeks burning at his attention when Wonwoo grins down at you, the back of his right hand running between your breasts as his left moves behind you, working the clasp open. 
He was intoxicated without taking a sip of alcohol and it was all because of you. Wonwoo could picture himself dreaming about this moment every night. He could envision waking up next to you and burying his face against your neck and his fingers between your legs, listening to your moans. 
“Wonwoo…” 
There was that needy sound in your voice once again. It was making Wonwoo painfully hard; he could feel how much he was leaking in his boxers. It was driving him insane how much he wanted to be inside of you. Each one of your moans drives him a little bit more insane with lust. 
“Baby, you’re killing me…” 
You could feel Wonwoo’s cock pressed against his jeans as you rubbed your leg against him. You wanted him out of his clothes and you wanted him to get your clothes off of you. He was moving too slowly for your liking. 
“I might kill you if you don’t get inside of me.” 
Laughing, Wonwoo drags the straps of your bra down your arms as he shakes his head. He knew it was an empty threat and yet he knew he wouldn’t keep you waiting for long. Every time he glanced up at your face, your eyes were on him; your lips were either parted or you were biting on them. He was dying either way. 
Arching towards Wonwoo, you whimper as his breath fans across your chest. His hands slide along your sides until his thumbs press under your breasts, pushing them upwards. Wonwoo smiles as he looks up at you before pressing a kiss on the swell of each of your breasts. He was enjoying watching you fall apart. He was enjoying watching your mind melt as all coherent words fade away into nothing but Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo...
“You are so beautiful. Please don’t make me rush, baby. Not this time…” 
This time. The words make you laugh into a moan as Wonwoo’s lips wrap around your right nipple, his thumb and forefinger lightly massaging your left. This time, you think again. He wanted another time. How many times did he want? You wanted forever with how he was making you feel. 
Wonwoo smiles upon hearing you moan his name, his eyes moving back up at your face as he rests his teeth against your nipple, just barely applying any pressure. He watches as you push your head back into the pillow, your hand reaching up for the headboard, only for your nails to scratch at the fabric lightly. Wonwoo groans against your skin as you roll your body like a wave towards him, enticing him to move further and give you more. 
“Don’t rush me…” 
His voice is a whisper between kisses as Wonwoo works his lips across your breasts and up your chest to your throat as his fingers slide towards your sweatpants. You weren’t trying to, not consciously, but your body was begging him to hurry. He could feel the goosebumps spreading along your skin at his touch. He could feel the hitching of your breath in your throat under his lips as his fingers slipped under the top of your pants and over your panties between your legs. 
“Mm… Won—Wonwoo…” 
All that need and desire. Wonwoo hisses as you moan his name again. His teeth scratch against your neck as his middle finger presses to the center of your slit, feeling your warmth and how you were soaking through the lace covering you. 
“I’m here. Let me tell you what I’m gonna do, mm—okay?” 
You nod and let out a loud breath as Wonwoo’s teeth catch your ear, only for him to breathe against your ear and then laugh at your reaction. It wasn’t a cruel laugh, but instead, you could tell that he was overwhelmed with his own desire. He was fighting every instinct to fuck you into the mattress without ceremony. He knew you deserved better. 
“I’m going to finish undressing you and myself.” Wonwoo smiles as you grab at his shirt, making a happy sound. “Then I’m going to taste you; use my fingers to prep you for my cock…” 
Furrowing your brows, you whine to Wonwoo’s words, looking up at him as he leans back, opening his eyes. You could feel him through his jeans as he laid against your hip on the bed. He was big, perhaps bigger than any man you had been with before. Hearing his words while his finger pushed your panties to the side and you felt his skin slide between your wet folds caused you to say his name with even more lust laced in your voice. 
He had told you what was coming next and yet when Wonwoo slid his hand from your pants you still wanted to cry. You could hear the soft coo in his voice as he tried to keep you calm. 
“Shh… I’m not leaving you. Told you what I was doing, didn’t I?” 
You nod as you watch Wonwoo take off his glasses and lean to put them on your nightstand. He looked good either way you instantly think to yourself but there was something mildly dangerous about Wonwoo without his glasses. A smirk forms on the man’s lips as you watch him drag his shirt over his head. He can feel your fingers in the loops of his jeans as an anchor to keep him tethered to you, forcing him to keep his promises. 
You had begun to play with the button, keeping his pants closed but you weren’t sure if you should. You didn’t know if Wonwoo would be okay with you undoing it but one low chuckle that went straight to your core, causing a new rush of arousal, told you otherwise.
Glancing down at your fingers as you circle the button, Wonwoo bites his bottom lip before looking up at you. Your fingers were delicate compared to his. There was something about that that was causing his brain to misfire and picture the dirtiest things but he would never tell you not to undo his pants, especially as he had already been undressing you. 
“Go ahead, baby. I’m yours…” 
Wonwoo’s words make you look up at him in surprise. He just smiles at you as you rest your fingertips on the top of his jeans before you let out a breath and mutter something under your breath. Wonwoo feels pressure release as you unzip his jeans; a bit more space is given for his hard cock but he can’t help but tilt his head and reach down to your face, titling it back towards him out of curiosity. 
“What did you say? You were so quiet.” 
Your cheeks were already burning from his attention but when Wonwoo wants you to repeat what you had barely whispered above a breath, you all but whine in protest, causing him to laugh. Shaking his head, Wonwoo slides back from you to kick off his jeans before reaching for the top of your sweatpants, beginning to drag them down as he looks into your eyes and asks again. 
“What did you say, sweetheart?” 
Closing your eyes, you swallow hard at the pet name and the feeling of Wonwoo’s knuckles running along the length of your legs as he pulls your pants from your body completely. 
“I–just…that I want to be yours too. If–” Your words get caught in your throat as Wonwoo kisses your inner thigh, his fingers wrapped in the sides of your panties pulling them down just like your pants, before he groans for you to go on. “Wonwoo! I can’t talk like this when you are kissing my thighs.” 
Chuckling once again, Wonwoo opens his eyes as he leans back to lift your legs, pulling lace from your feet, and drop your panties onto the floor onto a growing pile of clothes. He keeps your legs closed on purpose as he looks over your body up to your face, lifting his brow in a daring look, allowing you to finish. 
This hadn’t been what you had wanted. You hadn’t wanted him to stop. You wiggle in Wonwoo’s grasp, his hand holding your ankles as his free hand runs along the back of your thigh. You could see the patience in his eyes and it was frustrating. 
“Wonwoo…” 
“Finish what you were saying.” 
Damn him. Pressing your head back against the pillow, you scratch at the comforter under you, listening to Wonwoo smile into a breath as you do. 
“If you are mine, then I want to be yours.” 
Wonwoo knew what you were going to say. At least he had a good idea of where you were going with your words but he had to hear them. It was all that he wanted—for you to be his…completely. 
“Then you’re mine.” 
You feel Wonwoo’s fingers let go of your ankles in place of lifting your left leg and placing it on the bed. A soft whimpering moan slips from your lips when you feel the way your folds pull apart between your legs as Wonwoo pushes your legs up, giving him room to lay between them. 
Licking his thumb first, Wonwoo then presses it between your wet lips, barely putting any pressure on your clit to watch your reaction. The way that you hold to the bed, rolling your hips towards his hand, Wonwoo can only smile as he leans to press a soft kiss to your thigh. 
With a brush of his knuckles, Wonwoo teases his fingers down to your leaking opening while leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of your mound. The center of your legs is warm and inviting and Wonwoo thinks to himself how he could be here for hours if you’d let him. He could picture himself listening to your whimpers as he ran his tongue along your soft folds, avoiding your clit as he slowly rutted his hips against your bed for some bit of relief. 
“Shit, baby… You taste good.” 
Wonwoo couldn’t help but lick his lips, already tasting the arousal you were leaking that was running along his fingers from just teasing you. He needed more and he was getting greedy. Slipping the first finger into you, Wonwoo groans when your soft walls not only welcome him in but they also tighten and quiver. 
He can’t help but breathe hot breath against your pussy as he slides in closer to you, getting addicted to the feeling of the warm velvety walls around his finger and thinking how good it will feel around his cock. Groaning your name, Wonwoo circles his finger inside of you and curls it back towards him before adding a second. 
Your reaction is like bliss for Wonwoo and he can’t stand it anymore. You arch your back, feeling his tongue run flat from the base of his fingers over your clit and back. It’s messy between the way you are leaking from each pump of Wonwoo’s fingers and how he groans, pulling back from your folds with spit covering you and his mouth. 
“You’re so tight.” 
You aren’t even sure if Wonwoo is actually speaking to you or if he is just saying the statement out into the room as he leans back in to pull at your folds with his lips. You could feel how tightly you were closing in around his fingers but you were going to cum and there was no way you could stop it. Whimpering his name, you lift your hips only for Wonwoo to push them back down his mouth, finding your clit when your whisper becomes a sound from your chest as you orgasm hard around his fingers for the first time. 
Wonwoo smiles, feeling you cum, his tongue teasing your clit until you reach between your legs to tug at his hair, making him chuckle against your pussy. It was bad enough his fingers were still inside you, fucking your cum back into you lazily. You couldn’t stand his skillful tongue abusing your tender clit anymore, not right now. 
With one last kiss to your thigh, Wonwoo groans, slipping his fingers from your pussy. His eyes move from your now swollen folds to his fingers before he glances up at you and sucks them clean with a groan to your taste. When you smile and lift your hand to cover your face, you hear Wonwoo laugh. You feel his knee rest between your legs and his clean hand pulls your hand from where you were trying to hide. 
“What’s that about?” 
Looking up at him, you watch as he once again sucks his fingers clean before leaning over you to press a kiss to your jaw as you sigh happily. 
“You’re lewd.” 
Wonwoo laughs surprised against your cheek, turning his face so he can look at you even so close. He shakes his head and rubs his thumb along your wrist, holding your arm to the bed as he hums out an amusing and thoughtful sound. 
“Am I? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word said aloud, first of all, and secondly, I’ve certainly never been called it before. All of this because I was cleaning my fingers.”
You smile, turning your head to the side so you can feel Wonwoo’s lips press against your throat. He was giving you time to come down from your first orgasm and you could appreciate that but you were already rubbing against his thigh and you wanted him out of his underwear. 
“You should find more sophisticated circles if you’ve never heard the world ‘lewd’ spoken aloud, Jeon Wonwoo. And it was...you–" You laugh, trying not to feel embarrassed by what you wanted to say and the action you wanted to repeat but Wonwoo's chuckling against your ear caused you to rub your lips together. “It was my cum you were licking from your fingers.” 
Grinning, Wonwoo rolls his hips towards you so he can press his thigh up flush with your warm pussy. He could feel you trying to ride his thigh as he ran his fingers along your arm and his lips along your neck. There was something special about hearing you say something dirty, even if it made your face hot against his touch. 
“How lewd of you to say, Miss Y/L/N.” 
When you push playfully at Wonwoo, he laughs, sliding back and drawing your eyes with him. Any bit of playfulness that you had fades away as you watch him step off the bed and press his thumb into the top of his boxers. Instead, you swallow hard and fight over whether you should look away or just take in what is in front of you. 
Wonwoo watches your face start to turn when he is about to push his boxers over the top of his cock and he can’t help but smile at you. You were perfect and you were his. There was no reason for you to look away from what was yours. 
“Baby…” 
His voice drawing your eyes back to him, you hum out a soft yeah in question only to hear it die on your lips as Wonwoo pushes his boxers down for you and steps out of them. 
“You don’t have to be shy around me, okay?” 
You were fully looking at every inch of Wonwoo now and he was telling you not to be shy around him. Whining, you look up from his cock to Wonwoo’s eyes, causing the man to laugh at your reaction. Sliding back on to the bed, Wonwoo trails his hand along your stomach and to your hand, picking it up and guiding it to his hip. 
“Talk to me.” 
Shaking your head, your eyes fall to where he had placed your hand, noting that he hadn’t left you there by yourself. Instead, Wonwoo was dragging your fingers along his skin and somehow that made it more sensual. Your brain was cloudy with want, your mouth was watering, and now your eyes were back on his very well endowed cock that rested on your thigh as he let your fingers to it. 
“Big.” 
Well, Wonwoo thought to himself with a smile on his lips as you spoke one word. He had told you to speak to him and that was speaking. Shaking his head, Wonwoo chuckled a bit, lifting his brows as he wrapped your fingers and his around his shaft, causing himself to shiver and groan. 
“Boosting my ego?” 
Letting Wonwoo guide your hand over his head and collect some of his pre-cum making the glide smoother, you press your head back against the pillow, glancing from your hand up to Wonwoo’s face and back as he speaks. You weren’t necessarily trying to do that; you were just saying what was on your mind and that was that Wonwoo was big. You could already feel the stretch between your legs but it was all you wanted. 
“Wasn’t my intention? You don’t seem like the kind of man who looks for ego boosts.” 
Wonwoo grins; you were right. He didn’t need his ego boosted. He wasn’t like some of his other friends when it came to things like that. It was enough to see your delicate hand and fingers around his cock. This was what he had pictured when your fingers were on his pants earlier and he had given into his own dirty little desires. Now he was leaking pre-cum on to your thigh like an excited teenager, but he wasn’t going to apologize for that when you looked like a goddess spread out under him. 
“I’m not. I don’t need them, not when I can have you. I have a feeling that I’m not going to need much of anything if I have you in my life, Y/N.”
You suck on your bottom lip at Wonwoo’s words. Did he even know what he was saying or was it the lust going to his brain? Watching him pull your hand back from him, you almost pouted, but you could see it was getting harder for him to control himself. 
“Can I? I — I wanna be inside of you." 
Your head spinning with his words, you moan, feeling Wonwoo’s hand sliding along your thigh up to your hip as he asks to fuck you. You hadn’t expected him to ask. You were enjoying what he was asking. With your nails digging into his skin, you hold on to Wonwoo’s forearm as you nod, watching him smile in response. 
“Fuck…okay.” 
Wonwoo was quickly remembering that he had the privilege to be with you just the way he was. There was no need to get up and find a condom. No latex kept his cock from feeling those warm, smooth walls that had hugged his fingers before. Cursing under his breath, Wonwoo shakes his head to push the thoughts away for the moment, feeling his cock jerk against your thigh. If he thought too hard about it, he would cum before he got inside of you from the anticipation. 
You watch Wonwoo lay on his side, your brows furrowing, until he smiles at you and helps you do the same. Pulling your leg over his hip, Wonwoo reaches up to push your hair back over your cheek before glancing between your bodies to line himself up with you. 
The stretch, as you had anticipated, is intense but welcomed. Wonwoo is slow and steady, his hand moving to the back of your thigh once he knows he is nestled inside you deeply enough. He uses the movement of his hips and pulls you towards him to bury himself inside of you the rest of the way before staying still and listening to your breath as you adjust. 
Though there was nothing wrong with lying on your back and having a man on top of you, there was something special about laying this close to Wonwoo, feeling your body press up against his as he breathed against your lips. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you as he did everything he could not to start to beg you to let him move. 
Instead of using your words, you roll your hips towards Wonwoo, granting yourself a deep moan from his chest. Wonwoo smiles against your lips at the feeling of your soft, warm walls constricting around him as you slide over his cock, finally muttering on his lips to move. 
Simply nodding, Wonwoo digs his nails into the thickest part of your ass, pulling you back towards his hips so he can roll his hips towards you, burying himself deeply inside you once again. Both of you seeing stars, you moan his name before Wonwoo swallows it in a deep kiss, repeating the movement with his hips. He could already feel the pressure building in his stomach, his thighs tightening as his climax balanced on the edge of a cliff, threatening to barrel over. 
“More Wonwoo…please.” 
Hissing against your lips, Wonwoo listens to your whispered request, pressing his fingers into your skin. He wanted to go slow to keep you in this position but there was only so fast he could go like this and you wanted more. Groaning, Wonwoo rests his forehead against yours and nods. 
You gasp in surprise when Wonwoo puts you on your back, his body easily finding its way between your legs. With one hand holding yours, Wonwoo presses his lips to your throat, reaching between his legs to press his cock back into you while listening to your loud moan. 
He was deeper. The thrusts were more urgent and he was giving you what you wanted. You had asked for more and this was more. You could feel every inch of Wonwoo as he made sure to press his hips flush with yours and roll his hips upwards, listening to your cries of pleasure. You were close and he could feel it as your pussy clenched around him as you had around his fingers before. 
"Baby, oh my god. Are you gonna cum for me again?” 
Wonwoo feels you nod against the side of his face. He doesn’t pull his lips from your ear; instead, he just chuckles, a warm and soft feeling that makes you shiver uncontrollably under him as you fall over the edge. 
Just as quickly as he laughed, the sound faded from his lips to the feeling of you cumming on his cock. Pushing back from you to look down at your face, Wonwoo groans, seeing the way your lips parted in the perfect way before you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to silence yourself. Even then, he can hear you say his name as he quickens his thrust, burying himself so deeply inside of you that he hopes you won’t want or need anyone ever again. 
“Perfect, you’re perfect, Y/N. Shit… I’m gonna cum too. Where do —” 
Hearing his words, you try to process them as quickly as possible but your leg is quicker than your mouth as Wonwoo starts to pull out of you. Wrapping your leg around his back, you pull him back against you and Wonwoo groans into a laugh at your possessive nature until you roll your hips up and he’s a goner. 
The sound of Jeon Wonwoo cumming isn’t one you thought you would ever hear but it isn’t one you want to ever forget. His voice is deep and if you would ever admit it to him, it caused you to get wet even at work but his groans as he came were a bit higher and mixed with deep praises for how good you had made him feel. 
Collapsing onto you, Wonwoo groans against the crook of your neck, feeling your fingers through his sweaty, damp hair. He was still inside of you, though he could feel himself softening. He could feel the sticky combination of his cum and yours against his skin and between your thighs, and he knew that should make him feel gross, but instead he could only think about laying between your thighs to clean you up with his mouth.
Perhaps another day, he thought to himself with a smile before pushing back on his right hand to look down at you. You were a vision to behold. Sweat running down your temples, tears of pleasure still on your cheeks, and those bitten lips inviting him to kiss them. Wonwoo groans your name before giving in and kissing you softly, his thumb wiping away your tears gently. 
Taking a breath, you run your fingers along Wonwoo’s arm humming out a happy sound to his attention as you come down from your orgasm. You feel him finally slide from you, hearing his soft grunt and you can’t help but to pout at the empty feeling. 
Seeing your pout, Wonwoo grins, kissing your lips once again, wiping your other cheek and letting out a soft sigh before he bites at his lips in thought. He was trying to tell himself to chill but the more he looked at you the more he knew there was no way he could. He was in love with you. 
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Your alarm clock made your brows furrow deeply. You could feel warmth against your back, an arm wrapped around your waist, and then the soft breath of Wonwoo against your neck that caused you to smile. The memory of the night before flooding back in and how it had all ended. 
You had asked him to stay the night despite knowing it was Monday the next day. You couldn’t bear the idea of him leaving you alone in that bed after he had held you in the shower and ran his fingers over your body, working your body wash over your skin as if he had done it hundreds of times. 
Reaching over to tap the stop button on your phone, you turn in Wonwoo’s arms to look at the still sleeping man, enjoying the moments to yourself. He was so handsome. You loved the shape of his mouth, the perfect sharpness of the bridge of his nose, and the way he scrunched it when you dared to touch it in his sleep. 
You would have stayed like this forever if it wasn’t for the sudden realization that it was Monday. Monday was the day Daniel would be bringing Jacob back. Jacob was coming back and Wonwoo was in your bed. Wonwoo was in your bed and he was naked. He was very, very naked. 
“Wonwoo!” 
Hearing your panicked voice, Wonwoo’s eyes flutter open in alarm, his hand grabbing your waist before he sits up, looking around for any signs of danger. Furrowing his brows when he realizes there is nothing, you watch Wonwoo blink a few times before he looks at you sitting up, a look of confusion on his face. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“Jacob will be here soon.” 
Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo wonders if you are panicked because you don’t want Jacob to see him in your house or if it’s about your ex but you put all of his fears aside with your next words. 
“We are naked, Wonwoo…” 
You watch Wonwoo reach up to rub his neck, a laugh slipping from his lips as he nods in agreement. You were right; both you and him were naked. That wouldn’t be ideal for a toddler or an ex-husband to see. 
Sliding out of your bed, Wonwoo moves to pick up his clothes, sliding them back on as he sneaks a glance at you moving to your closet. He knew he would have to go by his house and change before coming into the office, but being the CEO of the company did have it’s perks…he could be late. 
You could feel Wonwoo’s eyes on you as you got dressed. Your cheeks were burning almost as badly as they had when he had been undressing you but you couldn’t help but smile at the feeling. You knew you could ask him to leave but for some reason, you couldn’t find the words or the will to do it. Instead, you wanted to make him coffee and offer him food. There was still time. 
"Uh, they will be here anytime. Do you want—want some coffee? I can make eggs.” 
Wonwoo smiles, sliding his glasses up his nose. You were still acting nervous around him. You had slept with your body pressed up against his all night long and yet you were still stumbling over your words. God, he was in love with you. He just couldn’t say it yet. He was terrified of scaring you away. 
Reaching out to catch your hand as you start to walk past him, Wonwoo pulls you back into his arms so he can lean down to press his lips against yours. He smiles to the happy sound you make, his fingers pressing against the small of your back as you give into the kiss and melt against him, wrapping your arm around his neck. 
“I’d love eggs and coffee. Do you want help —” 
The doorbell stops Wonwoo midsentence, his lips hovering over yours. He could feel his heart start to race in his chest. He had seen Jacob plenty of times but not in this house, and he found himself suddenly very intimidated by the idea of meeting your ex-husband. Putting on a brave face, Wonwoo smiles as you lean back, clearing your throat, to look up at him. 
“Told you…anytime.” 
Following behind you, keeping a safe distance, Wonwoo stops in the living room just out of sight, not sure if you want him to be seen as you move to the front door to open it. He can hear Jacob’s happy voice saying momma as you greet him. He can hear a man’s voice telling you good morning and your own voice saying the same. It sounds friendly but nothing raises any alarms with him. 
Small feet hit hardwood, and then carpet, as Jacob moves towards the living room for his toys, only to stop when he sees Wonwoo gasping up at the man in surprise. You hear the sound and make a face that Daniel can only raise a brow at. 
“Something wrong?” 
“No, uh, no. My—I have a friend…  Wonwoo is here. Jacob…Mr. Je–uh Wonwoo is here. 
Your voice trails off as you get confused on how to approach the situation, moving towards the living room, only to hear Daniel laugh at your struggle. Stopping, you shoot him a look and point in his direction, muttering for him to shut up. Watching the man put up his hands, he follows you, still holding Jacob’s bag, into the living room to see the taller man leaning against the couch. 
Jacob claps excitedly, moving back to his dad to pull open his bag, taking out the toy car, before turning towards Wonwoo to hold it up towards him, showing it off. 
“Car! ‘Ook! Car! Play with me!” 
Laughing, Wonwoo reaches down with a gentle hand to ruffle Jacob’s hair before squatting down to his level and looking at the car with the same excitement that Jacob had shown it to him. 
“That’s so cool. Is it your favorite?” 
Nodding, Jacob moves in closer to Wonwoo’s chest, making his car sound as you and Daniel watch for a moment. With a fond look on your face, Daniel can only smile and nod, clearing his throat softly, drawing your attention back to him while at the same time drawing Wonwoo’s. 
“We can look at it in just a second, okay, little man? Momma said something about eggs.”
“Eggies! Tots too peese!” 
Jacob giggles at his own request, moving to the couch and running his toy across it as Wonwoo stands back up, offering a friendly smile towards the other man. 
“Uh, hey. I’m Wonwoo.” 
Glancing towards you, Daniel raises his brow playfully before offering Wonwoo his hand to shake, reconizing the name. 
"Daniel, it's a pleasure to meet you. Thanks for treating Jacob like that. It's clear to see he likes you. I know he can be a little hyper, especially after a couple days with me.” 
Swallowing hard, you watch your ex-husband and your—what was he? Your boss, your friend, or your boyfriend? Your brain was going crazy now as you watched the two men laugh and shake hands like friends before they glanced at Jacob and then back to you. Wonwoo sighed softly and shook his head. 
“It’s no big deal at all. He’s a great kid, and I really enjoy being around him. You two clearly do a great job with him.” 
Reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, Wonwoo watches you stare at him for a moment before Daniel smirks at you and lifts Jacob’s bag, only to put it on a chair, breaking your concentration. 
“Thanks, Wonwoo. Well, I have to get going. Let me say bye to Jacob and I’ll be out of your hair so you two can get back to your morning.” 
Groaning, you catch the teasing in Daniel’s voice, which in turn makes Wonwoo catch it. His cheeks start to burn as he looks down with a chuckle. 
“No problem. Uh, Y/N…I’m gonna go see how your coffeemaker works.” 
You just nod at Wonwoo, letting him slide his fingers over yours as he passes by you, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Daniel even as he hugs Jacob and kisses the top of his head. Moving back around the couch, your ex-husband chuckles, leaning to poke at your arm before he glances into the kitchen, watching Wonwoo open cabinets like he lives there. 
“You little slu–” 
“If you finish that sentence...  I will knee you right in the dick, Kang Daniel.” 
You knew he was teasing and you were smiling but you couldn’t handle it right now. Not with Jacob so close and Wonwoo in just the other room. Pointing at the front door, you listen to Daniel laugh as he offers Wonwoo a wave in passing, getting one in return before he walks with you to the door. 
“I know who he is.” 
Sighing heavily, you stomp your feet on the tile, lightly glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one is watching you as Daniel speaks. 
“I know you do; now hush.” 
Shaking his head, Daniel grins and reaches up to pat your cheek once before dropping his hand. He loved to see you happy and to tease you. You were always so cute when you were flustered. 
“I like him. If you don’t date him, I will.” 
“Oh my god, if you don’t get out of my house..." 
Laughing a bit louder than intended as you try to kick his leg, Daniel puts his hand over his lips to stiffen the laugh, opening the door to the cold air to escape your attack. 
“Fine, fine. I will talk to you later. Have a good rest of your day, Mrs. Jeon.” 
Pushing his shoulder hard, you listen to Daniel laugh as he stumbles on to the porch when you close the door behind him, leaning against it. Your heart is racing but there is a smile on your face. As annoying as your ex could be, you didn’t mind the name hitting your ears. 
Taking a moment, you collect yourself, enjoying the smell of fresh coffee filling the air as you move back towards the living room to find Jacob. You half expected him to rush towards you like he did most mornings after being with his dad. He usually wanted to tell you all about his trip but today you press your fingers to your lips as you lean against the wall, watching him sit on Wonwoo’s lap, going through his toys one by one. 
“Oh yeah? What’s that one?” 
Jacob laughs, trying to say bear, only for Wonwoo to help him get the word right on the third try. Wonwoo grins and holds the boy a bit tighter, only then seeming to notice you watching him. Offering you a smile, he tilts his head, starting to move but you shake your head and lift your hands. 
“I’ll start breakfast.” 
Smiling up at you, Jacob babbles about tater tots once again, making you and Wonwoo laugh. 
“I’ll make you tots; show Wonwoo your book.” 
Wonwoo smiles, reaching for the small book and offering it to the boy, who points at it and says book, then at the word on the cover. 
“Colors.” 
Grinning, Wonwoo smiles against the small boy's head and nods. 
“That’s right. You’re smart, little man.” 
You can only put a hand on your chest, feeling your heart tighten with how much you love the sight of Wonwoo with Jacob. Pulling open the fridge, you smile, listening to both of them laugh as Wonwoo helps Jacob through the book, reading each color and listening to your son repeat them back to him. 
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“So, if you aren’t busy tonight, would you want to come over for dinner?” 
Wonwoo glances up from his computer to look at you standing next to his desk. Your tablet is in your hands as you scroll through his schedule. The two of you had done a great job at pretending like nothing had changed at work when the door was open but behind closed doors, it was a bit harder for him not to want to put you on top of his desk and eat you out. Your skirt was hugging your thighs deliciously, and all Wonwoo could think was how it had been days since the first time he had been with you. He knew he was being insatiable. 
“I’m not busy; I’m never busy when it comes to spending time with you.” 
You smile, unable to keep it from your lips, at Wonwoo’s words. He was a charmer and it had only gotten worse since your date and night together. You had wanted to see him again but work and Jacob made things a bit more difficult. You couldn’t just get a babysitter and take time from your son to spend it with a man. You were a mom first and Wonwoo understood that. But then Jacob started asking for “Woo,” and you knew you had to do something. 
“Okay…Jacob will be with me, of course but he’s been asking to see you. He’s been asking for Woo to come back over and see him.” 
God Wonwoo’s chest was tight. His heart felt like it was going to burst upon hearing that. He was desperately in love with you and he adored Jacob. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen himself as a father, but the moment Jacob sat down in his lap at your house and started showing him toys, asking him how to say them, he knew he wanted to be in that little boy’s life for the rest of his life. He wanted to be in your life. 
“Oh yeah? I’d be happy to see the little man. I’ve missed him and his momma.” 
That shouldn’t make you want him. That was a sweet comment. It wasn’t flirty, so why did your thighs push together on instinct? You were down bad for this man. Clearing your throat, you push together your lips, trying to stop yourself from smiling so broadly but it’s impossible as Wonwoo watches your own smile on display. 
“Then I’ll see you after work, Mr. Jeon.” 
Your bright smile and the use of Mr. Jeon cause Wonwoo’s breath to hitch. You were testing him. He was going to put you over the desk if he looked at you for much longer but much to his dismay, you laugh sweetly as you close his door behind you, leaving him half hard in his dress pants. 
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“I could do the dishes, Y/N.” 
Wonwoo sighs as you smack at his hand, lifting the plates from the table. You had already told him no several times but he was trying to be insistent on helping. 
“No, seriously. Go relax. Jacob will have to go to bed soon and he wanted to see you. You can’t see him if you are helping me load the dishwasher.” 
Grumbling under his breath, Wonwoo leans to kiss your cheek, making you smile, and glances around for Jacob, making sure he can’t see it happening. Wonwoo had been good up to that point. He had snuck in a couple of kisses here and there, but he seemed to know to watch his hands when your son was around. You were appreciative of that. 
Moving into the living room, Wonwoo smiles when Jacob perks up seeing him. He loved that look on the toddler's face and that he could be the one to put it there. He wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve it but he would do anything to keep it there. 
“What’s up, little man?” 
“Woo! Turn tv on." 
Wonwoo wasn’t sure what the after dinner rules were but you haven’t said that Jacob wasn’t allowed to watch television so he shrugged and slumped down on the couch, picking up the remote as Jacob pulled himself up next to him. 
“What are we watching?” 
Smiling, Wonwoo lets Jacob wiggle his way into his lap and back against his chest as the boy looks at the television. 
“That! ‘Ook! Cars!” 
Wonwoo laughs as he stops watching the movie, putting the remote next to him. It was well into the movie, the red racecar riding around the town with the tow truck as they talked to one another but Jacob seemed happy as he held his own toy car to his stomach. 
Dinner had been delicious; Wonwoo’s stomach was full and now he had a warm toddler laying against him like a blanket. Jacob giggled at the movie and then curled up against him, running the wheels of his car over Wonwoo’s leg before his breaths became more steady. The little boy was starting to fall asleep as Wonwoo’s hand ran along his back calmly. 
Smiling down at him, Wonwoo couldn’t help but run his fingers through Jacob’s hair as he watched his small eyes flutter closed. It was around his bedtime. Wonwoo remembered from your date that this was around the time you had mentioned so it made sense, especially with a full stomach, that he would be tired. 
Maybe he should put him to bed? But then he might wake him up? Shaking his head to his own thoughts, Wonwoo just smiles as his own eyes start to close, the movie a quiet background to the soft breaths of the toddler asleep in his arms. 
Finishing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen, you curse under your breath, seeing the time and realizing it was past Jacob’s bedtime. It wasn’t a huge deal, but you didn’t want him to be wound up and harder to put down, especially with Wonwoo over. You start to speak but stop short when you move into the room to find Jacob asleep, laying on Wonwoo’s chest. The man’s eyes closed as he pats your son’s back gently. 
Your heart was full and you felt tears on the rims of your eyes as you watched them for a few minutes, not wanting to interrupt the moment. It was so rare that Jacob was this content, and you weren’t sure how Wonwoo’s life was outside of what he had spent with you but it was nice to see him at peace. 
Finally moving into the room, you turn off the television before leaning to brush your fingers over Wonwoo’s hair, causing him to smile and open his eyes to look up at you. Whispering hi, he glances down at Jacob, causing you to smile as you drop your fingers to that of your son’s hair, brushing through the slightly tangled locks, careful not to wake him. 
“I can get him to bed.” 
Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo shakes his head and shifts slightly before looking up at you. 
“I can carry him, if that’s okay with you.” 
Your heart was so tight with how much you were falling for Wonwoo that it was almost painful. Pressing your lips together, you nod and take a step back, letting Wonwoo move to his feet carefully. You watch as he cradles your son to his chest, shifting him so that his little cheek rests on his shoulder, Wonwoo’s arm against his legs, and his other hand behind his back, before he smiles at you, waiting for you to lead the way. 
Reaching up to pat your lips and trying to keep yourself from smiling too big, you just shake your head and start walking in the direction of Jacob’s bedroom with Wonwoo in tow. He watches as you turn on Jacob’s nightlight and pull back his covers, letting him lay down in the small bed. 
“Thank you, Wonwoo.”
Smiling, Wonwoo nods at you, taking a few steps back so you can sit next to your son, tucking him in and shushing him back to a deep sleep. Leaning against the door frame, Wonwoo can’t help but picture every night going exactly like this. Watching you put Jacob to bed—perhaps another child in the future—before he would bring you back into his arms...
You nuzzle your nose against Jacob’s cheek as he smacks his lips, his little hand wrapped around your fingers. You could tell he was tired and happy and that was all you wanted in life—for your son to be happy. Pressing your lips to his forehead, you smile and lean back, carefully taking your hand back before whispering as you smooth his hair one last time. 
“Goodnight, baby. I love you.” 
Wonwoo watches. You have to pull yourself away from Jacob, but the moment you turn back to him, you smile, and he just shakes his head in awe of how beautiful you are. Reaching out his hand, he takes yours, leading you out into the hall and letting you stop to close Jacob’s door before he leans to press his lips against your forehead. 
“Stay…” 
Your words cause Wonwoo to close his eyes. He hadn’t been sure what you would want but he had hoped you wouldn’t want him to leave. Lacing your fingers with his, you turn towards your bedroom, leading Wonwoo with you. 
Wonwoo’s fingers fall from yours as you step to close your door, turning to rest your back against it as he watches you. Swallowing hard, he furrows his brows, almost nervous to move this time. He didn’t want to do anything wrong, especially since he knew the two of you weren’t alone tonight and if that meant just sleeping with you in your bed, he was okay with it. 
As if sensing his apprehension, you smile and step forward, pulling your shirt up and over your head, only to drop it and hear Wonwoo’s shaky breath once you are in reach of him. His fingers run over your sides and up to the clasp of your bra, resting in the middle of your back, when you look up to meet his eyes. 
“Make love to me. Yes…we have to be quiet but you can still make love to me.” 
Wonwoo nods, his fingers working open the clasps as he leans down to meet your lips gently at first, only to deepen the kiss when your nails scratch under his shirt, pulling him closer to you. You listen to him bite back his own groan by pushing his lips against yours when your nails dig into his skin at his hips, causing you to smile on his lips. 
“Fuck, Y/N. You told me to be quiet.” 
Nodding, you look up at him innocently and Wonwoo shakes his head, scoffing at you. A small squeak slips from your lips when Wonwoo’s arms slide under your ass, picking you up even for a moment so he can lay you back on your bed. Laying over you, Wonwoo grins down at you, seeing a look of surprise in your eyes. 
“Don’t tease me.” 
You smile, your bottom lip caught between your teeth at Wonwoo’s words. He didn’t mean it and you knew it. 
“No?” 
Shaking his head, Wonwoo narrows his eyes at you playfully as you lift your hips, letting him help you out of your jeans and panties. Between brief kisses to your breasts, stomach, and legs, you watch Wonwoo strip out of his own clothes before he is back on your bed, resting against your headboard and pulling you onto his lap. 
“I don’t think you mean it.” 
Wonwoo’s brow lifts at your words before a long, soft groan slips from his lips as your hand wraps around his cock, twisting slowly. You were sitting back on his thighs just enough that he could picture you sitting on his cock but now here he was watching your pretty hand work over his length, teasing him like he had told you not to. 
“I–fuck. Did mean it.” 
Leaning to press a kiss to his cheek, you stroke Wonwoo’s cock from his base to his head, letting your palm roll over his head before repeating the process all over again. 
"No, you didn’t. You like to be teased, Wonwoo. Least by me, I think... am I wrong, baby?” 
Baby…Wonwoo groans your name when you call him the pet name. God, you were his, and he wanted you forever. You were right about everything. In the past, he had hated to be teased but as you pressed your thumb into his slit and then played with the pre-cum that oozed from his tip, Wonwoo could only pant out your name like a prayer. 
“I’m not wrong. You are so wet, baby. You came so much inside me last time. Will you cum as much this time?” 
Since when did you talk this dirty? You had been so shy. Where did this confidence come from? Wonwoo was in love with every side of you. The shy little pillow princess that he had fucked into the mattress last time and this vixen who was making him whimper like a puppy looking for a treat now. 
“Yeah…fuck, yeah. I will... for you. Babe…fuck me. Let me be inside you. Don’t make me cum like this, please?” 
Jeon Wonwoo was begging you. Swallowing hard, you feel the power of that rush to your brain and between your legs as arousal drips from you and onto his thighs. This was the same man that you had daydreamed at work about letting him push your skirt up and fuck you over his desk and now you’d have new daydreams. Perhaps you’d do this exact thing at work as you sat on his desk, watching him try to work. 
This man was bad for your work professionalism. 
Wonwoo’s head falls back against the headboard as you lower yourself down over him. He had missed your pussy. He had missed being inside of you. He had dreamt about it. Not only fucking you but just being inside of you. Just sitting and being warm inside your walls as he worked or watched television. You were that good. 
With your hands resting on his chest, you whimper Wonwoo’s name, feeling that now familiar stretch as he pushes his hips up to meet yours. Sliding his feet up on the bed, Wonwoo grasps your hips and lifts you up to rest your knees on the mattress on either side of him so he can thrust up into you slowly and deeply. 
Wonwoo was already close. You had put him right on the edge of his climax with your hand, and now your perfect pussy was gripping him like a warm, wet vice, and his head was spinning. Reaching down with his right hand, Wonwoo rubs his thumb between your folds and you have to bite down on your lips to stop the scream from escaping your lips with how quickly your own orgasm starts to sneak up on you. The pressure between the way his cock fills you up and the circles his thumb draws over the bundle of nerves plummets you over the edge. 
With your thighs shaking, you fall forward, your mouth resting against Wonwoo as you orgasm hard and fast. Clenching his jaw, Wonwoo breathes through the feeling of your body, milking him for every last drop he has to offer until he can’t stand it anymore and gives it to you. With a groan you are quick to silence, Wonwoo thrusts up hard, pressing his hips flush with yours as he cums as he promised, filling you just as full as he had the first time. 
Your body is weak as you rest against him, and you can’t help but laugh softly as Wonwoo’s hand runs along your back. Letting out a slow breath, Wonwoo shakes his head and starts to speak when the sound of tiny cries comes from a room down the hall, drawing your attention. 
“Jacob is awake…” 
With a look of panic in your eyes, Wonwoo watches as you quickly but carefully climb from him to rush to the bathroom as he reaches for a tissue, cleaning up the best he can before pulling on his sweatpants. The sound of tiny feet and then hands smacking your door broke Wonwoo’s heart as he glanced at your bathroom door. 
Unsure what to do, Wonwoo paces in place, meeting your eyes when you move out of the bathroom dressed in a long t-shirt. Raising his hands, Wonwoo whines as you whisper it’s okay to him and you move to the door, opening it for Jacob. 
Moving into your arms, Jacob sobs softly and mutters about scary things and a dream as you pat his back, lifting him into your arms. Watching for a moment, Wonwoo glances around the room, quickly picking up a few clothes before moving towards you to run his hand over Jacob’s hair, drawing the toddler’s attention. 
“It’s okay, little man. Your momma’s here.” 
You smile as your son sniffs away his tears nuzzling against you for a moment longer before reaching for Wonwoo, causing the man to mutter a surprised oh. 
“Yeah, okay. I got ya…  what do we—”
He looked so lost and handsome that it broke your heart. Laughing softly, you move to your bed as Wonwoo comforts your son, bouncing him gently in his arms. Pulling back the covers, you pat your bed and Wonwoo nods, moving to lay Jacob down, only for the boy to cling to his neck, pulling him towards him. 
“It’s okay, Wonwoo...  lay down with him. You are comforting.” 
Jacob whines when Wonwoo looks unsure, a panicked “Woo!” falling from the toddler's lips, making Wonwoo’s face soften as he lays down next to your son, letting the child curl up on his chest. 
“I think, for one, you remind him of his dad and for two, he really likes you. I can’t blame him.” 
His cheeks burning, Wonwoo smiles at you, lifting his hand to brush Jacob’s hair from his forehead as the boy finds a comfortable spot. 
“Just don't… I don’t wanna overstep.” 
Shaking your head, you turn off the light before sliding into the bed next to Wonwoo and Jacob, feeling a tiny hand reach for you, pulling you closer to him and Wonwoo. 
“You aren’t.”
Wonwoo can only nod as he listens to Jacob’s breath steady out. The same sound of the toddler falling asleep on the couch starts to make him feel at peace as he watches Jacob relax, and he finally looks at you as you brush Jacob’s hair with your fingers humming softly under your breath. 
He isn’t sure how long he watches you, and just listens to you softly sing your son to sleep but when you finally meet his eyes, giving him a smile, Wonwoo can’t help himself. You are the most beautiful you have ever been, just like this, and this is the most he has ever been in love with in his entire life. So he just says it...
“I love you, Y/N.”
You don’t say it back. It isn’t that you don’t love Wonwoo back; it’s that you weren’t expecting it. Especially not like this. Not while he is holding your son, looking exactly how you would love to see him for the rest of your life. You bury your mouth against your pillow, your cheeks burning as Wonwoo’s fingers brush over them and he smiles, seeming to know, before he closes his eyes, letting you off the hook for the night. 
After a few moments, you listen to the sound of Wonwoo and Jacob’s breaths as the two most important men in your life sleep, and your head spins with how lucky you are before you follow them both in both restful and restless sleep. 
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Mingyu makes a face as he carefully adds the pork belly to the pot on the stove as Wonwoo leans over the island, watching him like a hawk. 
“Do you want to make the Bossam?” 
Shaking his head, Wonwoo leans back and points at his rice maker, clearing his throat.
“I said I could make rice.” 
Seungcheol laughs, leaning back in his chair and listening to his friends banter. He wasn’t sure why they were all over at Wonwoo’s place hours before dinner, but if Wonwoo needed emotional support, they would provide it. 
“I’d prefer to eat something edible, Gyu, so please keep Wonwoo out of the kitchen, even if he owns it.” 
Wonwoo mocks Seungcheol as he leans over the sink, washing the rice, hearing Mingyu chuckle behind him. He was grateful they were there. He had wanted you to meet a few of his close friends. Perhaps not all of them at once, but at least a few of them, so he asked you over to dinner without thinking about what he would make or order. Lucky for him, his best friend was Kim Mingyu. 
Seokmin peeks over Mingyu’s shoulder, grabbing a piece of cabbage to snack on, only to have his hand smacked by the larger man as he curses under his breath, shooing him away. 
“Mingyu’s a jerk. I was just trying to help.” 
Jeonghan shakes his head, leaning it over to rest on Seungcheol’s shoulder as the eldest of the friend group chuckles into a sigh. There was only one of them missing tonight who had accepted the invitation, but the sound of Wonwoo’s door beeping and a loud hello announced Soonyoung’s arrival. 
Wonwoo glances over to the last of his friends to arrive as he holds up two bags with a grin on his face, feeling proud of himself. His jacket has a tiger print that makes Wonwoo groan in embarrassment as he quickly remembers that you will be there in just a couple of hours around these men that he has told you are perfectly normal and good people. 
“I brought refreshments. Seokmin told me that Wonwoo’s girlfriend will be here and probably doesn’t get to party much so I will change that.” 
Dropping the rice into the maker, Wonwoo sighs loudly before pressing the button to start the cooking before all eyes are on him, including Soonyoung. 
“It’s…look, okay? This isn’t a party. If she wants a drink, that's great, but don’t treat this like some frat party.” 
Mingyu purses his lips, putting a basil leaf into the pot, before he glances up to watch Soonyoung’s reaction to Wonwoo’s words. 
“I’m just trying to make sure your girlfriend has a good time, Wonwoo.” 
Wiping away some grains of dry rice from the counter, Wonwoo laughs at Soonyoung’s words, but the laugh is one of unamusement as he shakes his head. 
“I–we haven’t discussed what we are. I just wanted her to meet my friends—you know, my family. So just be nice to her. Just get to know her and be on your best behavior.” 
Sitting up, causing Jeonghan to have to do the same, Seungcheol clears his throat as he rubs his thighs, nodding. 
“We can do that, man. Soonyoung…lose the jacket. We’ve grown up; we can act classy for a night.” 
Wonwoo grimaces at Seungcheol’s words, especially hearing Jeonghan’s light chuckle. He wasn’t so sure but he was willing to let them try. 
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“No, seriously. He ate ramen for six months before he became my roommate. It was tragic.” 
Your laugh makes Wonwoo smile, though his cheeks burn from Mingyu’s words. He should have known the conversation would turn to college and how each of them had met, but he didn’t know his friends would be so quick to air his “dirty laundry.”
“Y/N? Would you like another drink?” 
Soonyoung’s voice draws your attention, and you can’t help but coo at the man. He had been so sweet to you and made the most delicious Manhattans. Nodding, you watch him hurry off to the bar cart as Wonwoo leans back in his chair beside you, a glass of whisky in his hand that he had been nursing for some time. 
“The food was wonderful.” 
Wonwoo smiles and nods, glancing at Mingyu, who seems to shy away, turning to Seokmin to speak. 
“Compliments of our personal chef, Kim Mingyu. I swear, if he hadn’t gone into business, he would have gone into the culinary arts like Junhui.” 
You smile brightly, leaning forward to look at Mingyu as he shyly meets your eyes. He wasn’t at all what you had mistaken him for. Wonwoo had been right; the playboy persona was an act for the press and underneath it was a good soul who was going to make someone very happy one day. 
“The best food I’ve had in years. Perhaps better than what Wonwoo treated me to last week, seriously.” 
Jeonghan grins, reaching towards the middle of the table for one of the cupcakes he had provided for dessert, only to place it in front of you. 
“Don’t stroke his ego too much. Here, speaking of where you ate last week, I picked these up today for dinner. I thought you might enjoy them.” 
You watch as Jeonghan sits back down, reaching for his glass of wine, as Seungcheol, who sat on his right, reaches for a cupcake curiously. 
“What did you get, Han?” 
The man grins while watching you cut your cupcake in half, the center melting, causing you to gasp in surprise. Wonwoo just smiles, resting his free hand against the back of your chair as you pick up half of the cupcake, bringing it to your lips to take a bite, before closing your eyes in wonder. 
In that instant, Wonwoo wished the two of you were alone. It was one of those moments when he wanted to watch you enjoy something alone, but when you laugh, lifting your fingers to your lips to clean a bit of melted chocolate from them, he can’t help but smile into his own laugh. 
“Is it good?” 
You whisper a yes and nod at Wonwoo, lifting the rest of the cupcake half towards him, making him flustered as he leans to take it from your fingers as his friends watch. Jeonghan just smirks, tilting his head, feeling like his job was complete. He knew love when he saw it. He was schooled in it, having acted like he was in love hundreds of times but real love... that gave off a feeling and he could feel it even from feet away between you and Wonwoo. 
Seungcheol nods at the taste of the cupcake, muttering that it was good, until Jeonghan elbows his side and nods towards you and Wonwoo, making him shut up and smile. Seokmin and Mingyu had noticed and tried to keep their conversation low but Soonyoung, in his own world, put your drink in front of you and gestured towards it proudly. 
“One Manhattan for the lovely lady, compliments of Kwon Soonyoung.” 
Kicking his leg out, Mingyu hears Soonyoung complain about being kicked before he almost notices you giving lovey eyes to Wonwoo, and he backs off with a chuckle. 
“Oops…I’ll just—I’ll go over here.” 
Wonwoo groans, licking his lips, as the moment is ruined and you can’t help but laugh, knowing it wasn’t the right time or place. So many of Wonwoo’s friends were there and you were, in essence, being rude by monopolizing his time and making the atmosphere awkward. 
“Sorry…” 
Shaking his head, Wonwoo watches you start to put your hand down as he takes your hand in his and kisses your fingers. 
“Don’t be. Enjoy your drink.” 
Wonwoo watches you after dinner as he cleans up. He can’t help but smile as you do, chuckle when you laugh at Seungcheol’s stupid jokes. He finds himself happily watching from across the room as his friends go on about how they adore you and how you are welcome to call them anytime. 
That was what he had wanted. They loved you; how could they not? He knew exactly who you were and he knew his friends. There was no way you all wouldn’t get along. 
“I just don’t have time to date. Wonwoo’s lucky; he found you. He’s always been the lucky one in our group, if I’m honest.” 
You smile at Seokmin as he leans against the back of the couch, his head on his hand as his elbow presses into the cushion. Wonwoo was finishing up the last of the cleaning with Mingyu in tow, and you had already said goodbye to Soonyoung and Jeonghan. 
Seungcheol just smiles at you, thinking how wonderful you are, as his eyes move back to one of his best friends as he laughs talking to Mingyu in the kitchen, putting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. He was listening to two conversations when you said his name, making him look over at you fondly. 
“Hm?” 
“I was just asking if you were in the same boat as Seokmin or if there was a lucky somebody for me to hang out with at the next function." 
Grinning, Seungcheol shakes his head and sighs heavily, lifting his hands off his legs before putting them back down. 
“I guess we’ve all been wrapped up in work but I won’t lie...  Seeing Wonwoo this happy makes me wanna try.” 
Seokmin just nods in agreement, making your cheeks warm up as you look over at the man who had made you smile more recently than you could remember. 
“He’s liked you for such a long time, Y/N. He’s a good guy. I know things aren’t perfect for him, and he’d probably be pissed at me for saying this but he’s genuine.” 
Looking down at your hands as Seungcheol speaks, you just nod, understanding what he was saying, before you hear him sigh and stand up, drawing your attention upwards. 
“You’re leaving?” 
The man nods, glancing at his watch, causing you to frown. 
“It’s getting late and it’s only going to get colder. They are calling for snow, you know?” 
You hadn’t looked at the weather today, but he had made a good point. Seokmin makes a face at the idea of the cold before sighing and standing up, making you pout and follow his lead so you can say goodbye to both of them. 
Moving from the kitchen, Wonwoo looks surprised when Seungcheol offers him a hug, followed by Seokmin, who then moves to you to do the same. You really did feel like you had been welcomed into his family, and it was causing you to feel a bit overwhelmed suddenly. 
“I guess it is getting late. Let me see these guys out, and I’ll be right back.” 
Mingyu groans, looking at his phone, before moving to you to hug you tightly, causing you to laugh at how strong his grip is and yet how warm it feels. 
“Don’t be a stranger, Y/N. I like you better than him.” 
You feel Mingyu’s head move towards yours before he laughs, and you know that Wonwoo has pushed him, making you smile as he offers you a wink and all the men leave you in the large living area alone. You hear their voices trail off as you wrap your arms around yourself and walk towards the large windows that offer a view of the city for miles. 
Sighing, you furrow your brows at how cold you suddenly feel in such a large house. You hadn’t seen all of it but even in just this space, you felt out of place. You were beginning to remember how different your life was from Wonwoo’s as you started to turn from the window, only to see a bookshelf holding a vast number of books and picture frames. One in particular catches your eye. 
In the picture, you see Wonwoo, much smaller and younger than he is now, in the middle of a group of other boys. They look to be around 19 or 20 years old as they stand in front of a frat house. You look around at the other faces, and you can pick out Mingyu, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung. Your lips pull up into a smile as you run your index fingernail over Wonwoo’s smiling face as Mingyu holds his shoulders and another much shorter man on his other side. 
He hadn’t always had what he has now, you remind yourself. He had told you that many times. You didn’t feel comfortable now but perhaps he hadn’t always either. Maybe it was cold and lonely at times in this big house when he was alone, and you find yourself frowning as you look at the picture, counting the men, including Wonwoo. Thirteen. He had lived with twelve others, and now he was alone. No…not anymore. 
Walking back into the room, Wonwoo stops seeing you by the window with a picture frame in your hand. He can’t help but smile a bit at how pretty you are at first, but then the smile fades as he sees the concerned look on your face when he gets closer. Wrapping his arms around you from behind, Wonwoo rests his chin on your shoulder and looks down at the picture of him with his friends in college; he was still friends with all of them. They had all reached varying levels of success, like they had promised. He was proud of all of them.
“Are you okay?” 
You nod but then sigh, leaning back against Wonwoo as you put the picture back on his shelf, sliding your fingers along his arms and glancing back out of the window at the view. Wonwoo follows your eyes but he focuses more on your reflection in the window. 
“Are you lonely, Wonwoo?” 
Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo holds you closer and tightens his hand on yours as you lace your fingers with his. “No…I mean, not now. I used to be.” 
You were right. Sighing softly, you slide your free hand along his arm and shake your head as you look out at the city. Seungcheol had been right. It looked like the weather was getting worse. It looked like it was going to snow. 
“Why do you ask, baby?” 
Shaking your head again, you just smile softly, leaning your cheek against Wonwoo’s. 
“This house is so big for just you. I worried you might be lonely.” 
Wonwoo can’t help but smile at your reasoning. He loved you so much and your caring heart. Leaning to kiss your cheek, Wonwoo feels you smile again as you let out a soft breath. 
“I love you, Y/N.” 
His words are spoken against your cheek as you watch the first bit of snow begin to fall. Your tiny happy gasp causes Wonwoo to look out the window as you make a happy sound, commenting on how pretty it is—the first snow of the season. 
“Mm, it is pretty, and so are you.” 
Turning in Wonwoo’s arms, you feel his fingers run along your dress at the small of your back as he smiles down at you. Your eyes meet his almost shyly, before he leans down to press his lips to yours gently as your fingers hold his face on either side with a featherlight touch. 
“I love you, Wonwoo.” 
Hearing you say the words back to him for the first time, Wonwoo freezes and smiles against your lips. He simply sighs, happily stepping in closer to you, his hands pulling your body in tighter to his as he deepens the kiss briefly before letting you take a breath so he can rest his forehead on yours. 
“Say it again.” 
You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully, as Wonwoo traces the line of your zipper up the middle of your back to your shoulders so he can pull it down as he waits for you to speak. It’s only when you tell him that you love him that he drags the zipper down. 
“I love you too. So, so fucking much.”
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selarina · 6 months
Text
tw angst, breakup
gojo satoru who’s just so used to kindness and patience from you because from the moment you met him, you knew you were soft for him. practically invisible mush. but things have changed now, he broke up with you. and he’s seeing you without the blue and white hues of kindness for the very first time.
it’s almost noble that he broke up with you. one could see it that way, but you see it as selfish.
you always knew his family and jujutsu society wanted him to marry someone with influence and power. marriage was a matter of politics after all.
but you didn’t really care. you knew what you were getting into after all. you’re not an impulsive person, you think deeply and rationally about these things. you didn’t jump face first into love, you slowly sunk yourself down further and further until you reached the riverbed.
so when he mentioned that his family was talking about marriage with Aya Tsukino, the infamous crystalline sorcerer — you were barely phased.
it admittedly hurt a little. you did always imagine a more traditional route with love — with altars, rings, vows, cakes and champagne. i mean, who doesn’t? but you saw reality for what it was and told him it would be fine.
that you would deal with it when it comes, that you would be okay being his dirty little secret if it was okay with ms. aya
but he’s a week away from the wedding — the biggest of the millennia so to speak, and he should be out there attending a celebratory party in his name, but he’s out here standing in your dimly lit bedroom breaking up with you.
you don’t react when he breaks up with you, that wasn’t when you started withholding your kindness from him. no, that night you gave him a measured response — i understand. no, you’re right. yeah, we can try to be friends. i understand. take care. and he surprised that you remained as calm as you always do, but he supposes he shouldn’t have doubted you.
but when he shows up on the day before his wedding — his excuse being he really wanted his jacket back — he sees you laced with anger for the very first time.
he can tell he’s interrupting but he doesn’t really care, he’s not the kind to but he’s especially not the kind to care when he’s practically signing away his love life tomorrow day. so he barges in regardless, and you let him.
he sees the opened bottle of wine — half-empty, a glass of red wine — half-empty again. a romcom of some sort up on TV, throes and throes of pillows and blankets on your couch. there’s a sadness that fills his already bleating heart up, but he doesn’t break.
he maintains the facade — he wants his jacket back, and he definitely isn’t here to see you.
you come out of your room — your expression neutral still as you say, “i can’t find it.”
and he believes it, but if you can’t find it, he needs to leave now and he doesn’t want to. so he insists that he needs it, because he “can’t sleep without it.”
and you frown, “you’ve been sleeping fine for a week.”
“i haven’t,” he says, plainly. you notice the dull blue from behind his black glasses and you think maybe he isn’t lying, so you merely nod as you go back into your room to scramble through your wardrobe.
it takes you about 20 minutes but you show up, and he notices the lack of a hoodie in your hand.
“couldn’t find it?” he asks.
“nope,” you respond. “are you sure it’s not with you?”
“i’m sure,” he says. “can you look agai—”
“nope,” you say. your voice comes out stern and he notices the reclusiveness in your posture. hands folded, and eyes almost a glare. “i think you need to leave. i'll send it with takashi if i find it.” takashi, your driver.
“but i need—”
“for gods sake — gojo. you’re a grown man. take a fucking pill or something.”
there’s no mistaking the anger in your voice now. no, it’s not just slight agitation, it’s anger. it's anger, and it's making you see things in shades of orange.
"what—" he says lowly, as he looks no worse than a kicked puppy. he reaches for his glasses, taking them off as you see his eyes for the first time in 2 weeks. they looks sad, but then again, they always had a certain sadness to them.
his eyes change now, ever so slightly, there's a certain anger brimming through the blue as he stares back at you now, "all i asked for is my jacket."
"well, if gojo satoru wants his jacket. i guess i should put my life on hold, and scramble across the earth to look for it, right?" you roll your eyes with a scoff. and he's taken aback. you've never been petty. you've never been this detached. not when it comes to him.
"not like i'm interrupting much," he speaks up and he knows that he's going to regret what he's about to say before the words even leave his mouth. "you're having a sob fest, if anything — me showing up here is helping."
"are you fu—" and then you laugh, but there's no mirth in your laughter. "how dare you even talk to me like that? you'r— you fucking break up with me. with your bullshit excuses. and then you have the fucking audacity to talk to me like this?"
"bullshit excuses? i broke up with you. for you," he yells back. "you would've been miserable, baby."
"i would've managed," your response is immediate.
"you were upset when aya kept kissing my cheek."
"i never said that."
"you didn't have to," he groans. "it's my- it was job to see that. and that's why i know you would've been miserable."
"i've told you this time and time again. i don't mind being miserable as long as i got to be with you. what's so hard to understand about that?"
"what kin- why? why even—"
"because i love you."
"what kind of love makes you debase yourself in such a way. it's fucking pathetic," he replies, and there's some contempt in his voice.
you see how he views you now more clearer — like you're some sad thing. like you're the world's greatest loser and you should dig yourself into a hole until you've moved on from him.
you're only used to love from him, and that made your decision to stay with him feel revolutionary — like you could've lived the worst life socially if it meant you could stay in love but now — now you're not sure about any of this.
"you would've been miserable. so i made the decision for us. you'll thank me one day," he says.
"maybe," you say with a sigh. you're tired and frankly all you want is for him to leave so you can chug the rest of that wine and pass out. "maybe, but it was our relationship. and you made this decision all by yourself. so don't ever blame me for our end."
part 2
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