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htaesan · 2 days ago

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　ᅠ ✿　ᅠ NOT THAT I CARE OR ANYTHING　　────　ᅠ ( han taesan )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀your ex, seemingly sweet anton, spreads malicious rumours about you that could potentially ruin your entire academic weapon career, so you have to take desperate measures𑁋and that includes a fake-dating contract and the bane of your existence, han taesan.

　　　ᅠ 한태산 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 13k ⠀ genre college au fluff angst if you squint one sided rivals to lovers academic weapon x campus crush ⠀ contains mentions of food vulgar words skinship pet names several ocs ⠀ note i’m sorry if this fic is.. all over the place a bit coz,, yea!! but this fic is highly.. self-indulgent.. heheh! and i originally wanted to make this more angsty but i’m already sad and single so, No! anyways, enjoy reading ^_^ ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net

　　　ᅠ ＞︿　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

“ALRIGHT. Let’s do it.”

As you gaze into Taesan’s determined eyes, the entire series of events flashes through your mind.

It was back in your first year of university—early winter, the day of the first snowfall. You were walking towards the three-floor library, the cold wind stinging your eyes. You rushed inside, grateful for the gush of artificial warm air that greeted you as soon as the doors closed behind you. The library was quite packed for some reason, and you could barely spot any empty seats.

You walked towards the edge of the library, a corner with the largest window of the level. There it was—one of the only empty seats in the entire library—but that seat was next to a boy, heavily occupied with his studies. Your pace slowed down as you hesitated. The boy had a focused blank look on his face, his headphones on, and several papers and notebooks were scattered on the table around him.

You felt like you wanted to just leave and go back to your room, but remembering how cold it was outside, you decided against it.

After taking a deep breath, you approached him. With a shaky smile, you tapped the boy’s shoulder, muttering a silent prayer.

“Excuse me,” you said as he lowered his headphones to his neck. “May I sit here? I-I mean, if it’s cool with you..”

He simply nodded. “Sure.”

You had sat down next to the mysterious boy for the entire day, not knowing that, in the present, he would be the bane of your existence.

In this moment, you’re brought back to the present, startled at how you’re standing in front of him. The mysterious boy that you had sat next to turned out to be Han “Taesan” Dongmin—KOZ School of Law’s campus crush. There’s almost nothing “bad” that you’re heard of him, yet, when you find yourself walking towards him with a fiery determination in your eyes—you immediately know that you’re about to get hit with something you’d never expect.

“A-are you sure?” you say, surprised to even find yourself stuttering. You’ve held yourself to such a high reputation—being your school’s academic weapon—you’ve worked hard to keep yourself true to that name.

Well, to be fair, you didn’t expect Taesan to even say yes to your ridiculous plan—given that all that’s he’s ever done for you is say everything that will get on your nerves.

Taesan gives you a smirk. “Of course,” he says, clearing his throat. “Being the boyfriend of KOZ Academy’s academic weapon isn’t something you get to do everyday.”

The way he presses the emphasis on the word ‘boyfriend’ makes you flinch. It reminds you of your stupid plan; who in their right mind would offer Han Taesan—your rival—a fake dating deal just to make rumours about themselves go away?

“Right,” you roll your eyes. “Anyway, I think we need to enforce some guidelines and boundaries regarding this… set-up.”

Taesan shoves his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight to let himself stand more comfortably. The smirk still on his face, he replies, “alright. Hit me with all of ‘em.”

You whip your phone out, quickly showing him a document that you spent an entire night typing out—complete with every single thing he needed to do for you.

“Here,” you say, frustrated at how Taesan’s smug smirk just never falters.

Taesan runs a hand through his hair before leaning down to read through the document displayed on your phone. He finishes reading it quickly, taking a step closer to you after. He doesn’t say anything for a while, only to startle you by abruptly saying, “I agree.”

“What–?” you blurt out, surprised once again. You thought that Taesan would be more picky than–

“Your terms are easy for me to do. However,” you narrow your eyes at the boy who’s towering in front of you. Of course he’s picky—he’s Taesan. “I’d like you to agree to my conditions as well. If I have to do some things for you, you’d have to do some things for me too.”

You sigh before nodding. How hard could it be? Besides, this whole ‘relationship’ you’re having with Taesan is merely a fake dating set-up.

“Okay.”

Taesan whips out a full-blown smug smirk, making you roll your eyes. He pushes his glasses up his nose bridge, holding out two fingers.

“First, you have to also put in the effort to make things real. Like, wearing my jersey when I have basketball games, and wearing my initials ‘round your neck,” he pushes his middle finger down, the smug grin still plastered on his face, “and secondly, you’ll have to let me kiss you anytime.”

The moment the word ‘kiss’ escapes his mouth, you choke on thin air.

Why is my plan backfiring on me?

“What? No–”

Taesan shrugs. “Basically, physical contact is allowed to be done anytime.”

You feel your face flush, immediately recalling the third condition that you showed Taesan. No physical affection unless needed.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that—it’s clashing with my third term.”

“But your first term: ‘the other party must always do his utmost best to make the relationship seem real’ exists, am I right?” Taesan objects relaxedly. “Then, my second term doesn’t clash with that. And I also do believe that that first term of yours comes before the rest. Am I right?”

You grit your teeth, sucking in a sharp breath. How could you forget? Taesan will always work to have the last word—be that in court or in conversations.

Plus, he’s not entirely wrong.

Though, you’ve never been someone who lets Taesan win willingly.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, your heart twisting in detest at the way Taesan’s face lights up with a smirk again.

“Then, we have a deal?” Taesan asks.

You stare into his dark brown eyes once again, registering what you’re about to commit yourself to. All just to get rid of your ex and the rumour he’s pulled you into.

You hold out your hand, Taesan gladly reciprocating.

“Deal.”

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IT didn’t hit you that you’re officially Han Taesan’s girlfriend that night. However, the next morning, right after the two of you signed the document at the coffee shop you always study at—it hit you like a million bricks from the sky.

You’re in a “relationship” with the person you loathed the most for the past year. The exact same man who everyone adores, who’s called the it-boy, the campus crush—is now your most “beloved”. Freshman you would rather jump off a cliff than to offer her nemesis a fake-dating pact.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I guess.

“Here,” Taesan hands you a velvet box—one that obviously contains jewellery of some sort.

Of course. Han Taesan’s always prepared.

You let out a deep sigh, knowing what’s inside. Despite that, you ask, “what’s this?”

Taesan gives you a grin, one that you always see him don during the countable times that he beats you in quizzes. “Open it—I’m sure you’ll like it.”

You run your fingers around the edges of the velvety box, sceptical at Taesan’s sudden soft tone. “Don’t talk to me like that,” you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

Taesan, instead of immediately throwing a scoff in your face, simply leans back into his seat with a chuckle.

Not waiting for whatever reply he’s preparing to throw to you, you open the box. Your eyes lay upon a beautiful, dainty necklace with a “H.D” pendant, nested elegantly in the box. You bite back a gasp, though you’re unable to hide your surprise. The silver necklace is one of the most beautiful pieces of jewellery you’ve yet to lay your eyes upon—it’s dainty and simple, yet it screams elegance in the best way possible.

You look up at Taesan, obviously bug-eyed. “What- I’m- thank you?”

Taesan throws his head back, laughing. He perches an eyebrow up, clearly amused. “What am I supposed to answer? ‘You’re welcome’?”

Oh. It’s part of his terms.

You glare at him.

Not missing a beat, Taesan says with a big grin on his face, “what is your lazy ass waiting for? Put it on—or do you need me to help with that?”

You massage your temples, tempted to stick your tongue out at him, hissing the obvious at him—that you do not want to wear his initials around your neck.

“I don’t need your help,” you say between gritted teeth, harshly yanking the necklace from the box. You swiftly clasp the necklace around your neck, secretly surprised that you’re able to do so.

Maintaining a glare, you retort, “I’m only wearing this stupid necklace because it’s part of your terms.”

You throw your gaze elsewhere, Taesan laughing his stomach out in the background. Why is he finding your irritated state so funny?

The pendant feels cold against your skin, sending tingles. You gulp, feeling odd. You hadn’t announced your ‘relationship’ to your friends yet—but seeing you with Taesan’s initials could certainly start rumours.

A part of you is jumping with triumph—your plan is starting to set its course, while another part of you is afraid of it all. What if you’re finally not good at something, no matter how much you try—pretending you’re in love with your rival, the bane of your existence?

“We’ll start slow,” you hear Taesan say, pulling you back into reality. You quickly morph into your stoic expression—one that you find yourself often putting up around people. “Like everyone else does. Soft launch.”

“Ah,” you manage, nodding. “Sounds good.”

“Even though that necklace certainly is a big jump for a soft launch,” Taesan voices, chuckling. His words cause you to narrow your eyes at him, hyper aware of the cold metal against your skin—a mark that Taesan managed to place on you.

It’s all fake, you chant to yourself. Once Anton gets the message, it’ll all be over.

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THE past few weeks had been a blur. Nothing was out of the ordinary—you attended classes, performed mootings and sent in assignments like usual. Though, only one thing that was out of the routine.

Taesan no longer felt like a thorn to your side.

You still hate him—you despise the way he carries himself, so proud and confident. You wish you could punch his face for the way he’s so smooth with his words, the way that his charm works on everyone so well. You absolutely hate the way a handsome idiot like him had the potential to beat you in every single subject if you slacked for even a minute.

Yet, to the public, he’s your boyfriend.

A cliche: rivals to lovers, they say.

Despite being the one proposing the whole fake dating plan, you had been the one following Taesan’s itinerary so far. The two of you had finally exchanged phone numbers, and at night, Taesan would always send a list of ideas on how to make the soft launch more obvious day by day.

The first week, you found yourself wearing tops that highlighted the H.D pendant, styling your hair to make it more noticeable—you even went as far as attending Taesan’s birthday celebration to top the chances of people noticing the pendant. And Taesan didn’t inform you of this one, but you often found him telling his friends, yours, or random coursemates to pass you drinks and snacks. You had no idea how Taesan had gotten the list of all your favourite things to munch on, but you secretly did enjoy the free flow of snacks. Anton had passed you a snack from Taesan too—five packs of your favourite Choco Pie. You couldn’t forget the bewildered face Anton had as he passed them to you, eyes filled with question and a hint of jealousy.

“What’s up with Han?” he asked.

You shoved the Choco Pies into your shoulder bag, biting back a smile. Who wouldn’t be jolly after getting five of their favourite tidbits?

“How would I know?” you replied bitterly. You quickly turn away from Anton, the uncomfortable feeling of being around him overpowering the bubbly feeling you had from getting snacks.

“Well, those Choco Pies are from him,” Anton repeated for the second time. “And I don’t recall him being anything but hostile to you.”

You suppress a scoff. “Maybe he’s had a change of heart? His brain is probably tired of coming up with things to try and outsmart me,” you muttered. As if.

“Well, if anything—if that asshole tries to do anything to you, I’ll… be here for you, Y/N,” Anton said, taking a step closer. Your eyes widened and your jaw clenched. You quickly finished packing your bag up, swinging it over your shoulders.

You said that last time, too.

“Don’t talk to me, Anton,” you responded as monotony as possible before running out of the lecture hall, not giving Anton even a glance.

The following weeks, Taesan was hanging out with you even more than the previous week. He wasn’t being too obvious, but to you, him walking slightly behind you and not throwing a loud sarcastic remark was already an apparent sign that would show everyone that your dynamics had changed.

Anton had found yet another chance to corner you after a Public International Law lecture. You stayed back in the hall to reread your theoretical essay before sending it in. Behind you, Taesan was packing up his things, busy scrolling through something in his phone.

“Hi, Y/N,” you froze when Anton’s voice reached your ear drums.

You look up at him with a glare. “What do you want?”

Anton flashed his usual pitiful, soft smile. “Nothing. Just a meal with you—this week has been quite stressful for you, right? I heard that last Monday’s mooting was rough.”

“You’re not even a law student, Anton,” you seethed. The KOZ School of Business student ID card hanging on Anton’s neck looked extremely out of place amongst the ocean of law students. “Please kindly get lost, go back to the Business building.”

“My course mates are boring. Besides, you’re more fun to be around,” Anton replied. “I know we… haven’t been on good terms, but give me a chance to fix it all?”

You gritted your teeth, your hands beginning to shake.

The audacity of this boy… where is my stupid fake boyfriend when I need him–?

“I think she clearly said for you to get lost, bud.”

You fought back a grin. Finally.

“Han?” Anton tilted his head. “Wait– who are you to tell me that?”

Taesan stood next to you, his backpack dangling from one shoulder. His height towered significantly above you, making you standing right below his shoulders—enough to match Anton. “Who do you think I am?”

Anton’s eyes darted towards the pendant on your décolletage, his eyes bulging. “What the…” you heard him mutter under his breath.

Taesan seemed to notice this too, and he swiftly pulled you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “So, get it now? Get lost, Lee, and give your ex some space. An ex is an ex for a reason.”

Anton then left with a fuming expression, leaving you in fits of relieved laughter after. You thanked Taesan, who simply responded with a polite smile.

“By the end of this, don’t forget the wish, yeah?” he said, before walking out of the lecture hall.

You stood there, blinking profusely. You had completely forgotten the last clause of your agreement with Taesan—once you were satisfied with his service, you had to grant him one wish. Anything that he wanted.

You face palmed yourself. Why didn’t you think twice before typing that down? You mentally made a note to yourself to prepare your wallet for the outrageous request that the thorn in your side would make later on.

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“ARE you and Taesan dating?”

Sophia’s question makes you almost spit your lunch through your nose.

“What?”

“Girl, don’t you dare pretend not,” Yunjin interrupts, pointing her spoon at you. “You literally have his initials as a necklace that you never take off! H.D., which means Han Dongmin, right? Isn’t that his real name?”

“It’s not like–”

“No, no. It’s so obvious! Taesan’s around you more now, and he even gave you a birthday present!”

Sophia smiles, “he looks at you so differently now!”

Yunjin laughs, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, that too, I guess,” she then looks at you, directly in the eyes, “I guess Han Taesan and Y/N L/N have finally begun their lovers era, huh?”

You feel your cheeks warming up, and guilt fills your chest. You draw a sharp inhale before telling the girls the full story. And subconsciously, your fingers find the pendant, playing with it.

“It’s fake,” you sigh, “I mean, not the necklace—he’s just pretending. I’m pretending, too. None of this is… real.”

Sophia gasps and Yunjin frowns.

“Are you… sure? What for?” Sophia asks.

Yunjin nods in agreement. “I’ve always thought that dude had feelings for you, but I… I didn’t realise it’s actually wrong and my deductions were totally off.”

You scoff, though Yunjin’s words left you wondering. “Taesan doesn’t like me—have you girls seen how he treats me?”

“He treats you well,” Yunjin states plainly, shoving a spoonful of rice into her mouth.

“No,” you immediately shake your head, “he hates seeing me happy! He always finds a way to stick his annoying nose into my life, mocking me. He’s like always, always there to only laugh at my face.”

“Then why did he agree?” Sophia asks.

“To what?”

“To fake date you,” she continues, taking a sip of her yakult. “Well, I’m sure you have a plan—a contract and all—don’t you?”

Your eyes widen. How do these two girls know you so well?

“Yeah. I do. I’m doing all this because of Anton,” the look on your friends’ faces makes you feel a little relieved, “I need him to shut up about me.”

You recall the ridiculous rumour you’ve heard about you from Yunjin, that’s been going around like crazy—the rumour that you used to date Anton because he’s rich and that you used him as a bribe to get outstanding grades. Those close to you knew that is and would never become true—yet people are always jealous of others who have certain things better than them.

It may seem like a small matter to some, but to you, it’s a matter of reputation. Your whole image and potentially, your graduation is at risk. What if the rumour reaches some professor and they report you? You couldn’t risk the huge amount of money and time you spent, only to be scrapped off the dean’s list due to some rumour.

Yunjin herself had recorded proof of Anton trying to turn her against you, using that rumour. If she hadn’t shown you the recording, you wouldn’t have believed that sweet, kind Anton was the one who spread those malicious whispers about you.

Now, you’ve got to end it all. One way or another.

You continue finishing your lunch, Taesan somehow in mind. By the end of your lunch, you’re convinced that this is truly all an act—it’s nothing real, and in the end, you’re both just people who hate each other and use each other for selfish, personal reasons.

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“DO I really have to wear your ugly varsity jacket?” Dongmin hears you grunt through the call. He stifles a laugh, tossing a ball up and down.

“Obviously, you dimwit,” he replies, “you’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?”

Dongmin lets himself smile. The word rolls off his tongue like a simple melody—it feels natural for him to say. He finds it odd, yet entertaining—your reaction is worth it all. Besides, it’s quite refreshing to take a break from hating you, sometimes.

“Besides, your ex is going to be there,” Dongmin reminds, his voice more throaty than expected. “He’s on the team as well, remember?”

“Yeah,” he catches your quiet answer.

“Anyway, how do you even have time for all this?” you question from the other end of the line.

“Hmm,” Dongmin hums, “I do have time.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” you hiss. “You’re in law school, Han Taesan.”

“What? Like it’s hard?”

Dongmin lets out a hearty laugh as he hears you gasp—one of the loudest and most genuine expressions he’s gotten out of you yet.

“I’m so done with you,” you huff. Dongmin hears you shuffle through your closet, most likely finding something to wear.

“You say that everytime,” Dongmin whispers to himself softly.

“Anyway,” you announce loudly, “you better have some food for me once I arrive—I’m wearing your stupid varsity jacket.”

“Alright, sweetheart, anything for you,” Dongmin jests in a sing -song voice.

He hears you yelp in disgust, chuckling. “Yuck! Fuck off, Taesan!”

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IT’S a friendly match, nothing serious, Taesan had said; yet you’re here amongst other significant others, to watch him and his team play against another school’s team.

At the bleachers, you feel called out, and insanely out of place. Everyone looks so in love—girlfriends wearing jerseys with their boyfriends’ numbers and names on the back, painted their faces accordingly, and even cheering for them with their hearts; mothers and siblings gathering together to support their sons and brothers.

Everyone looks so genuinely in love, and you’re the only one who’s there just because you have to. You arrived only two minutes before the match started, too, because you obviously don’t love Taesan enough to be rescheduling your work shift to see him play.

You fidget with the edges of the varsity jacket you’re wearing, oddly feeling how it’s perfectly oversized on you.

Earlier, Taesan had spotted you sitting awkwardly on the bleachers. He ran over to you, quickly handing you a quesadilla and a cup of bubble tea, before jogging back to the basketball court to warm up. He didn’t say anything, nor did you—but the gesture made you feel weirdly fuzzy.

Taesan did actually get you some food, even though you grumpily yelled at him to do so. You thought he wouldn’t, just so that he could get on your nerves, just like he always does.

You watch him and the team warm up, pumping up positive energy with each other. You take a bite of your quesadilla, trying to ease your heart—yet you just can’t forget the real reason why you’re here.

Jersey number 35.

The whistle blows, indicating the start of the game, and you catch Anton’s glance at you. He gives you a wide smile, winking twice—a sign that he made up, thanking you for coming, just like the old days. You grimace, turning away.

The mission is to make it seem like I’m in love with Taesan.

You intently watch Taesan play in the arena, his moves sharp and powerful. He slips through the opposition’s defense flawlessly, scoring goals smoothly. Every time he throws the ball, it gets into the hoop—people erupt in cheers and he’s surrounded by his teammates.

And every time, Taesan looks up at you, flashing his signature smirk. His grin sparkles, lighting up the room—it makes you feel like you’re the only one in the huge arena.

It makes you feel odd.

Like there’s so much more under that grin he flashes to you every time he scores.

You touch the pendant on your décolletage, the cold metal stinging against your skin. Your fingers trace the letters—the initials of Taesan’s birth name—reminding you this is all a set-up. You’re supposed to pretend, and Taesan is pretending too.

He must be.

Taking a deep breath, you tug the varsity jacket closer to your body, shoving your hands into its pockets. The weight of Taesan’s name and number lay heavy on your back, yet you don a bright smile—trying your best to show your support for him.

Right now, you’re Han Taesan’s girlfriend. Player number 11’s girlfriend.

The match ends with Anton’s final goal, and KOZ Academy’s team wins 115-113. The entire gym erupts in waves of cheer and heartfelt hugs, every attending person feeling proud of their team, losing or not. You jog down the stairs, heading towards Taesan, whose height stands out in the crowd.

When you reach the end of the stairs, you notice Anton’s gaze on you. You glance at him, the weight of past memories dragging you down. At the end of these exact same stairs, you used to run straight to Anton, engulfing him in a hug after a match. You used to kiss his cheek, congratulating him for a successful game. You used to feel like your entire world revolved around him, and that you would be happy with him.

But that was in the past. Now, you can look at Anton with nothing in your heart. You feel nothing but plain resentment—damning him for the things he did to you. You had thought he was the love of your life, that you’d grow old with him—but Anton had other plans, and another girl that he prioritised more than you.

You turn your head away, directing your gaze towards Taesan. He’s talking to his friends, his hair wet from the sweat. He’s grinning proudly, talking about something that’s interesting to boys.

You sigh. Hopefully this whole set-up works—Anton leaves you alone, the rumours die down, and you can go back to bashing Taesan’s head.

And hopefully, you can move on, too. Once and for all.

From the corner of your eyes, you see Anton take a step towards you. Though, what you don’t see is that Taesan is faster. He waves at you, calling your name with a big grin, before running to give you a hug.

Your eyes widen upon the impact, and it’s like everything is in slow motion.

Taesan pulls away, ruffling your hair. His eyes crinkle with his grin. “Are you proud of me, darling?”

Darling.

You gulp.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

You give him a laugh, trying your best to not make it sound staged. Your nose crinkles at the smell of sweaty boys. Taesan notices, of course, and he chuckles.

“Sorry, I must smell bad. I’ll be sure to spray on some more deodorant next time.”

You gaze into Taesan’s eyes, his arms still around your waist. There’s some kind of softness behind his teasing look—something that you’ve never seen before.

A small smile forms on your lips, one that you’re unable to hold back. “Good job, Taesan.”

“Yeah?” Taesan laughs, his eyes forming crescent moons. “Thanks, Y/N.”

He then leans in to whisper, “that’s the first time I’ve heard that from you.”

You push him away, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off, Taesan. I’ll be waiting at the bus stop.”

Taesan laughs loudly as you stomp away. “By the way,” he yells, “you look good wearing my number, sweetheart!”

You lower your head, biting your lips to fight two things—the urge to flash the middle finger to the jolly Taesan behind you, and the weird fluttering feeling that erupts in your stomach every time he calls you ‘sweetheart’.

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“Y/N,” you turn around, finding a panting Anton in front of you.

You’re standing in line outside one of the most famous pasta restaurants in the heart of the KOZ School of Medicine square, waiting to buy this one pasta dish you’ve been craving for the entire month. You didn’t tell anyone you’d be here—not even Taesan or the girls—so you’re weirded out by the fact that your ex found you here.

“...Anton,” you curtly acknowledge.

“Is it true?” he asks.

You force your eyes close for a second, wishing that it wasn’t wrong to beat someone up. “What?”

“That you’re dating Han Taesan. I saw him kissing your cheek last time.”

Your heart almost stops beating for a second. Almost two months have passed, and almost everyone in the entire campus of KOZ Academy knows that you and Taesan are finally getting tired of fighting each other—falling in love instead.

Your plan has passed the soft launch phase, and now, you’re having your nemesis call you sweet, adoring nicknames out in public.

“Yes,” you answer, managing a deadpan expression. “What about it?”

“Do you love him?”

You narrow your eyes at Anton, feeling like if he keeps on shooting questions like this, he’d go home with a black eye. “Why does it matter if I love him or not?”

“Because,” Anton starts, his voice beginning to waver with every following word, “you used to love me.”

His words hang in the air, thick with a known, cursed history. You could hear your heart stutter for a split second, but you shake your head, quickly suppressing the feeling. You take in a sharp breath, feeling the heat of old anger rise in your chest. You force yourself to look at Anton, eyes hardening.

“That was two years ago, Anton,” you say, your voice detached. “And you made sure to end it, remember?”

Anton’s face flickers with something—guilt, regret, maybe even a hint of fear—but you’re not interested in seeing it. You’re sick of it—too familiar with the way he can spin his words to make himself seem like the victim.

“You don’t get to do this,” you continued, lips tightening into a thin line. “You don’t get to just show up and act like we can pick up where we left off, after what you did with Mina."

Anton’s face darkens the moment your old best friend’s name leaves your mouth, but you hold his gaze without flinching. Anton opens his mouth, probably to throw another lame and poorly explained excuse that you’ve heard before, but you’re faster than he is.

“Save it,” you snap. “You don’t have any right to ask me if I love Taesan after what you did. You lost that right the moment you lied to me and slept with her.”

Anton looks taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected you to bring that up, but obviously, you don’t care. You’ve held your feelings in for so long—leaving them behind quietly to try and move on without a commotion. You’ve spent enough time letting him walk all over you in the past—you’re not about to let him do it again.

For a moment, Anton looks like he’s about to say something more, but you don’t give him a chance. You turn away, taking a small step back as you glance briefly at the line in front of you. “I’m done with this conversation, Anton. You should be, too.”

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THE next morning, after your first class of the day, you sigh as you find yourself waiting outside of a rather packed coffee shop—allegedly Taesan’s favourite one—bundled up in Taesan’s scarf. Autumn is starting to give way to winter, and as it’s doing so, the winds and temperatures are getting crazier. You bury your face further into the softness of Taesan’s scarf, letting the mixture of champagne orange, passion fruit, and sugar vanilla attack your senses. It’s disturbing, once the fact that the scarf that’s warming you up belongs to Taesan registers in your head; however, you had no choice. Freezing your nose off was the only other option.

“Hey,” you hear Taesan’s voice, turning instantly towards him.

“Apple pie latte?” he says, handing you a warm cup of said coffee. Grabbing it from him, you perk your eyebrows up.

“How did you know?” you say, pushing the scarf down. Taesan shrugs, sipping his own drink. You glance at the sticker on his cup: cinnamon maple latte.

“Instincts.”

You snicker at his reply, rolling your eyes. “Cut me some slack.”

The two of you then walk back towards the law school complex, where both of your classes will be held next. The winds begin to blow, and you find yourself hiding half your face behind Taesan’s scarf. You squint your eyes, blinking harshly as the stray strands of hair sting them.

“I love autumn, but not this kind,” you mumble.

Taesan glances at you, and in one swift motion, he grabs your free hand and shoves it into the pocket of his coat. He interlaces his hand with yours, letting his body warmth transfer to you.

Your eyes widen, your brain slow at processing the situation. You whip your head towards the tall man walking with you, his expression relaxed as ever.

“What are you doing?” you hiss, trying to pull away.

Taesan gives you a look that yells ‘really, Y/N?’. “Keeping you warm?”

“I don’t need your help,” you retort, yanking your hand away.

Taesan grabs it back, shoving it into his pocket. This time, his grip on your hand is firmer than before. “I don’t need my girlfriend to freeze to death—it’s going to ruin my reputation.”

Realisation hits you, again, like a ton of bricks right at the face.

Oh.

“Okay,” you say quietly, letting him do his thing. You look away, deciding to admire the surrounding golden trees. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of how this whole ‘thing’ with Taesan is temporary—and having a personal heat packet isn’t too bad.

Once the two of you reach the lecture hall together, people begin to clearly spectate. You pull your hand away from him, rushing to your usual seat. Taesan, his expression calm as he always is, walks over to his usual seat as well—directly behind you.

Then, two minutes before the lecture starts, the person you truly hated comes into view, and decides to sit at the empty seat next to you.

“Hi, Y/N,” your ex, Anton, greets you with the biggest smile on his face. You mentally sob—already dreading the three hours to come.

You turn away, scooting as far as you could. The memories rush like a flood you can’t stop—reminding you of the heart-tearing pain the boy sitting next to you caused.

“Y/N? You alright? You look pale,” Anton says, probing further.

“It’s the weather,” you reply dully, your lips downturned. You unravel Taesan’s scarf from your neck, placing it on your lap. Your eyes fixed onto the lecture, you ignore Anton’s attempts to get you conversing with him.

“Y/N, are you free after class?” Anton whispers, twenty minutes into the lecture.

“No.” You give him a side glance.

“And you don’t even take IT,” you fake a smile, “so I don’t think you should even be here. With due respect, get lost, yeah?”

“I’m honoured,” Anton whispers back. The soft smile on his face makes you gag. “You still remember things about me.”

“Oh, please,” you grimace, anger beginning to bubble up inside of you. “I’d rather make out with Taesan than remember even the tiniest bit of–”

You suck in your breath sharply, your cheeks flushing at an alarming rate. You had blurted your words out too fast to even register the fact that you’re actually wearing the said person’s initials in a necklace ‘round your neck.

“You’d rather what now, sweetheart?”

Hearing Taesan’s voice, you can almost see his smug smirk decorating that annoyingly attractive face of his.

Your eyes widen.

I did not just admit that.

You turn to Taesan for a moment, flashing him a sheepish smile. You quickly spin back to face the lecture, forcing yourself to focus.

After the lecture concluded, you find yourself stuck in a sticky situation—Anton just can’t let you go out.

“Do you want to go and grab lunch together? It’s pretty late for lunch, and I know your stomach gets upset easily if you don’t eat,” you wince upon hearing his soft tone.

You frown, hating the fact that Anton knows almost a lot of things about you. “No, Anton, I’m sure I said–”

“She said no, Lee, I’m sure even a stupid motherfucker can understand.”

Seeing Anton’s eyes almost pop out at the sight of Taesan next to you, you’re sure that you look the same. You turn sharply towards Taesan, who has his hand perfectly placed on your back. The look on his face is fierce and scary, like he’s about to completely destroy Anton exactly where he’s standing.

“Han,” Anton addresses him curtly. “I didn’t know that you’re on… good terms with Y/N.”

You fidget with the charm on your décolletage, collecting every bit of energy you have to maintain a stoic expression.

Taesan flashes a sly smirk, pride radiating from his eyes as the corners of Anton’s lips twitch. “Why? Is it important to you who I’m close to?”

“No, but given your history with Y/N—I don’t want her to get hurt,” Anton blathers, “so I’m gladly asking you to–”

“What? Fuck off?” Taesan scoffs. Your eyes bulge, somehow not expecting Taesan’s choice of words to be so vulgar. “I think that’s what you’re supposed to do, Lee.”

“Y/N,” Anton says, desperation vivid in his voice. He grabs your wrist, and you instinctively step back. “C’mon, let’s go. I know you don’t like this stupid asshole here–”

Before you could even act, Taesan steps in front of you, shoving Anton to the floor. The students who are still lingering around stop to look. You couldn’t hold in your gasp—Taesan looks extremely angry, you swear you could see fire in his eyes.

A thought clicks into your head.

Taesan is the it-boy, of course he’s good at acting.

You take a step back, weirded by the heavy feeling of disappointment that begins to cloud your heart as soon as you remember the arrangement.

It’s just acting, Y/N. Get it together.

“Don’t touch her, bastard,” you hear Taesan hiss before he turns to you. Anger still lingering around, you watch with silence as Taesan relaxes the tension in his jaw. In a mirroring silence, he gestures for you to follow him out. You nod.

As you turn on your heel, Anton calls out, visibly irritated.

“Y/N,” he says, “what’s going on?”

You give him a mocking smile. You swing Taesan’s scarf around your neck. “I don’t think I owe you an explanation, Anton.”

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AS you and Taesan walk out of the lecture hall, you can’t ignore the heavy weight settling in your chest. It keeps replaying in your mind: the way Taesan stepped in, fiercely protective—it’s all an act, right? You sneak a glance at Taesan, but his face is unreadable, his jaw still slightly clenched from the encounter.

“Taesan… you didn’t have to do that,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his scarf.

Taesan exhales through his nose, his shoulders rising slightly. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he then adds under his breath, “fucking bastard.”

You blink, unintentionally slowing your steps. That’s… different from what you expected.

“Taesan,” you try again, but he shoves his hands into his pockets, picking up the pace.

You know you should just let it go, but the air between the two of you feels heavier than it was before. Was it just an act? Maybe it was—and that Taesan’s acting skills are as good as the rom-com actors—but something about the way he had looked at Anton; like he was seconds away from doing more than just shoving him to the ground.

It feels too… real.

A sudden gust of wind cuts through your coat, making you shiver. Instantly, Taesan grabs your wrist and pulls you into a nearby convenience store.

“Sit,” he orders, disappearing for a moment. You watch him move through the aisles, confusion twisting in your chest. You take a seat exactly where he ordered you to, your head fuzzy from the mixture of confusing, unnamed emotions.

When he returns, he kneels slightly, pressing a warm drink and a heat pack into your hands, his fingers lingering just a second too long.

“You’re hopeless,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “First my scarf, now this.”

You gasp dramatically, rolling your eyes as your lips twitch, your heart knocking against your ribs. “You’re the one who keeps giving me things.”

Taesan just hums in response, his gaze locking onto yours. His usual unreadable expression softens, something almost unreadable flickering in his eyes.

Your grip tightens on the cup, trying to shake off the way your body reacts to his warmth. This whole thing with Taesan was supposed to be temporary. So why did it feel like something had changed?

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DONGMIN takes several deep breaths, his eyes shut. The jazz music plays in the background, and the buzz of the cafe calms him down.

No wonder Y/N likes this place.

Dongmin opens his eyes, finding himself staring at you ordering drinks and some food for the two of you. You had dragged him here as soon as you finished your drink at the convenience store, repeating that you needed to treat him to some food. Your voice rings in his head, telling him that he needed to follow you to the coffee shop, to cool off his steam.

“Do you like apple pie?” you ask, setting a plate of two slices of said dessert, accompanied by two scoops of vanilla ice cream.

“Why do you even ask if you’ve already gotten it? Seems like my preference doesn’t matter,” Dongmin replies, putting on the usual smirk.

Your eyes widen and he chuckles.

“Well,” you huff, “I like apple pie—and it’s impossible to find someone who doesn’t.”

“Alright,” Dongmin laughs, and it hits. His laughter dies down as the realisation sinks in—watching you devour your slice of apple pie like it’s the only food you’ll eat until the end of time.

Dongmin, as he puts a bite of his food into his mouth, realises how messed up he is. He realises how often a hearty laugh escapes him when he’s with you—how a flustered, frustrated mess you make him.

“Why are you being nice to me?” Dongmin asks. He pokes his fork absentmindedly into the crust of the apple pie, second guessing his question the moment it leaves him.

You and he had always, always been rivals—a pair that’s never meant to get along. He’d always find you muttering curses and throwing glares in his direction; and he’d always find himself trying his best to reciprocate your disdain for him.

Dongmin does hate you, too.

He hates how you’re so confident, so diligent, so talented. He despises how hard you work, how determined you are, how you seem to always effortlessly bring him down and defeat him in academics. He feels the most intense dislike for you—whenever you walk in the room, he feels like the world is about to explode, along with his sanity.

Dongmin hates, with a burning passion, how he can’t stop himself from falling in love with you. He absolutely loathes the way you smile, the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh, and the way you look at him—with such fiery determination that’s enough to knock him off his feet. He completely hates the way that he has to keep his tongue sharp, and his attitude insufferable, for you to give him a sliver of your attention. He perfectly hates the way it’s impossible for him to let you know that he doesn’t hate you, at all.

Dongmin watches you open your mouth to reply, yet you don’t for a few moments. You return his gaze, uncertainty playing around in her eyes.

“What do you mean?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion. “We’re just eating apple pie, Taesan,” you laugh sheepishly.

For the first time, Dongmin doesn’t have an immediate answer. He swallows the bite of apple pie in his mouth, unsure of what he should say next. His smirk fades and hesitation engulfs him.

You notice this, of course, and your frown deepens. Though, before you could do anything, Jaehyun—Dongmin’s friend, suddenly appears.

He greets Dongmin, patting his shoulder. “Yo, Taesan, long time no see! Wait–” he pauses, laying his eyes on you. “Wait, am I dreaming? You two? Sitting together? Laughing? Are pigs flying now?”

You immediately shake your head, laughing along with Jaehyun. Dongmin, on the other hand, is dazed. He stays silent, still unsure of what to say. He’s finding everything peculiar—the way he’s unable to say anything, the way that his heart is thumping loudly against his chest at the mention of you as his girlfriend.

He watches you politely say goodbye to Jaehyun, gaining certainty with every beat of his heart.

His little crush on you is resurfacing, after two years of pushing it down with faked hatred.

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AFTER Jaehyun leaves, you let yourself sneak a glance at Taesan, who’s absentmindedly poking holes in his already destroyed pie crust, avoiding your gaze. You notice his oddly quiet state—the Taesan you know would never miss the chance to throw in a witty remark.

You throw him a glare, slightly hoping it’d make him knock out of his trance. You set your fork down with an audible clink. “You’re being weird. I mean, you always are insufferably weird, but this is even weirder.”

Taesan scoffs, lifting his drink to his lips. “And you’re being annoying. Paranoid.”

You cross your arms, an annoyed grimace forming on your face. “Am I?”

Taesan holds your gaze for a moment too long, something flickering in his eyes before he looks away. “Maybe not.”

Oh.

You lean back, sighing dramatically. “Fine. I don’t get what you being weird has with me being paranoid, but yeah, I’m totally being paranoid. Definitely imagining things,” you scoff sarcastically.

Taesan hums in agreement. “You do that a lot.”

You choke on air. Glaring at Taesan, you retort, “you’re infuriating.”

“And yet, here you are, sharing dessert with me,” Taesan smirks, tilting his head.

You pause, blinking profusely.

That… is a valid point. How did you even get here? You and Taesan are supposed to be rivals. Aren’t you supposed to hate each other?

Your stomach twists, and suddenly, you find it difficult to swallow your final bites of apple pie.

After moments of deafening silence, you say, your voice slightly wavering, “you’re unbelievably good at dodging questions, Taesan.”

You bring your drink to your lips, hoping that you sounded casual.

Taesan looks up from his finished plate of apple pie, smirking as he leans back. “Oh, yeah? Have you ever considered that you’re too good at asking too many questions, and it’s insufferable?”

Your eyes widen slightly, flickering to the way that his eyes glare vaguely at you. “Maybe I am,” you admit quietly, “but you’re dodging the real ones.”

Taesan’s smirk falters a little bit, just for a second, and there’s something unrecognisable in his eyes. Something you can’t put a name on.

Maybe a shift in the air. Maybe it’s just your imagination. Or maybe it’s because your heart is racing just a little too fast.

You’re so focused on trying to read Taesan’s expressions that you don’t notice the way your voice softens. “So… if this whole thing is an act, why do I keep feeling like you actually care?”

You mentally hit yourself. That isn’t what you meant to say—and it’s certainly not what you would say in front of Taesan.

Though, it’s out before you can stop yourself. The words hang in the air, heavy and uncertain.

Taesan freezes, his eyes widening with a vulnerability for a fraction of a second. Then, just as quickly as it came, his guard comes back up. “Like we’ve discussed before, it’s an act. Nothing more.”

His voice is stern and plain, and his expression is stoic, but you catch the tremble in his hand as he’s fiddling with his fork.

That, somehow, doesn’t sit right with you.

You learn forward, the pendant swinging against your décolletage, your expression more serious now. “Then why do you care so much?”

You watch him closely, catching the tightening in his jaw and the way his hand proceeds to rest on the table, fingers anxiously tapping against the wood. Taesan doesn’t answer immediately, and instead, he looks away to drift his gaze to the window.

Your chest suddenly tightens. He’s acting like this is nothing, but you certainly feel it—the crack in the walls you’ve both constructed carefully against each other. It’s a tug at the back of your mind, a repeating whisper you’ve been trying so hard to push away.

And yet, the silence between you feels louder than ever.

Minutes pass by and the silence gets louder and louder. You’re lost in your own thoughts—realising just how much you’re affected by Taesan; just how much more you’re feeling than you want to admit. In the silence, you’re wondering, are you just imagining all this? Maybe it’s just you, maybe it’s the fact that you’re finding something more from this fake relationship you have with Taesan, your nemesis.

Though, there’s something that you can’t deny: the fact that your chest tightens with fluttering butterflies every time he gets too close, every time his words shift to something softer than usual, it’s something that makes your heart trip in your chest.

“Y/N,” Taesan calls, his voice softer than anticipated, and you’re pulled out of your train of thought. You look at him slowly, uncertain and afraid of what’s to come. He pauses, as if he’s unsure of what to say next. “What if… I told you I’m not sure if I can pretend much longer?”

His gaze finally meets yours, and for a moment, there’s no mask—just the raw sincerity in his eyes.

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You open your mouth, trying to say something—but nothing comes out. The evident truth in his words hits you like an ocean wave on a sunny day, and you can’t help but feel something is shifting between you both.

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THE next few weeks pass by like a ridiculously large time-skip in a movie. You’re doing things like you usually do—attend classes, do mootings, send in assignments, study for exams. Though, there’s one big thing in your life that you can’t ignore—Taesan, your fake-dating arrangement, and the lingering, unspoken tension between the two of you. The first week after the coffee shop episode, you couldn’t sleep even a wink—your mind kept on replaying the scenes over and over again, the way you caught Taesan’s guard almost falling down. You’re sure you felt it too, the cracks in the walls you’ve built against him—even for a short moment.

At school, you’re hyper aware and extra distracted by Taesan. He’s doing his part of the agreement well, acting like he agreed he would. Every glance from him feels like a load of unspoken words, and the air between you two feels heavy. Every day you ponder, unsure of what to do with the new, fragile tension that’s settled between you and Taesan.

Today is the same—everything passes in a blur of lectures, assignments, and studying. You drag your heavy footsteps out of the room, your head spinning at the thought of the many assignments waiting for you. You look up, and the moment you step into the hallway, you see Taesan leaning against the wall, phone in hand, looking as calm as ever.

You walk near him, and your eyes meet—you see a flicker of something there—a tension, a question neither of you have the answer to.

“Y/N,” Taesan greets you with a casual, unreadable smile. You pause in your steps, turning to face him.

“Hi,” you reply quite timidly. You’re trying to sound casual, but you can hear the slight hitch in your voice. There’s no pretending this isn’t different now. There’s no pretending you didn’t almost cross a line last time.

Taesan takes a final glance at his phone before shoving it into his pocket. “Still pretending this is just an act?” he asks, his voice surprisingly soft but laced with something familiar, almost teasing.

You pause, your breath stuck in your throat. Your heart, yet again, skips a beat, and you try to brush it off by laughing nervously. “Me? Pretending? I’m not pretending,” you say, and it’s directed more towards yourself than to him.

You’re not sure who’s trying to convince who anymore.

Taesan looks taken aback. He blinks profusely before putting his usual, calm expression back on. “Yeah,” he whispers, nodding, “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

You watch him walk away, heart twisting in the weirdest way.

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DONGMIN hates the way everything is now. Why can’t he just tell you everything? Why can’t he just tell you that he isn’t pretending, that he actually cares?

He wants to stop everything–going back to shoving insults at your face might be the safest option of them all. Yet, Dongmin finds himself caring for you in the little ways—wrapping his scarf around your neck, adjusting the placement of your bangs with a simple ruffle, placing a tin of coffee and bread in front of you whenever you seem exhausted with studying, sliding post-its to you with his handwriting reminding you to take breaks when needed. He still finds his heart racing upon seeing you; the way your lips pout when you’re deep in thought, the way you smile and laugh so adorably upon hearing a funny joke from your friends, the way you’re still so cute even when frustrated.

As he walks away, Dongmin fights with his own heart. Why was he acting like this? It’s so clear that you’re expecting something more, but why is he pushing you away?

Dongmin takes a deep breath. Yeah, he’s scared. He’s afraid that maybe it’s all in his head, maybe you’re the one acting so well and it’s just gotten to him.

Dongmin swears to get himself together, but it looks like he’s going to need more than just mental affirmations.

The next day, he misses his alarm, for the first time in forever, and is running late to his 9 AM lecture. He’s speed walking through students, dodging them with a bag hanging on one shoulder and his hair still partially wet. Just as he’s about to near the entrance of the Law building, he hears raised voices nearby. He puts his hood up, his first instinct is to ignore it all—he’s got no time to eavesdrop on people’s business. However, he recognises one of the two quarrelling voices—yours.

Dongmin’s steps come to a halt, and he turns to face you. His eyes slightly widen and his shoulders begin to tense as he sees you and Anton standing a few feet away, locked in an argument. He’s a bit too far away to hear the full conversation, yet he catches some bits of it.

You’re standing at your full height, stiffly in front of Anton, arms crossed and eyes blazing with fury. Anton, on the opposite side of you, no longer has that sickening, innocent smile—instead, he’s flashing you a mocking smirk.

The argument is already reaching its peak, yet Dongmin is quick to analyse the situation just by picking up a few bits.

“You think you’re really something, don’t you?” Anton taunts.

You scoff. Dongmin could tell you’re offended, yet the mask you put on really makes a difference. “At least I don’t have to put other people down to feel important.”

Anton scoffs back, “please. You act like you’re above all this, but you’re just as desperate for attention as everyone else.”

Dongmin clenches his jaw, watching the argument unfold as his fingers begin to twitch.

You give Anton a mocking laugh, stepping forward. “I don’t care what you think, Anton Lee. I don’t care if you think I don’t love Taesan, because what matters is my own feelings, not yours. And I’m done wasting my time on you.”

Before you could turn away and enter the building, Anton grabs your wrist.

It’s not aggressive, but it’s enough. Enough to make Dongmin see red.

Everything’s a blur—one second later, he’s towering in front of Anton, his eyes glaring daggers.

“Let her go,” his voice is low and threatening, as sharp as a blade.

Anton looks up, initially startled, but as soon as he sees Dongmin, he rolls his eyes. His hand still around your wrist, he says with a sneer, “look who’s here, Y/N’s knight in shining armour! Oh, so great, always the hero.”

Dongmin is too busy counting down the ways he could destroy Anton’s life to be noticing how immediate the warmth creeps up your cheeks. Dongmin, in one fluid motion, steps closer, standing between you and Anton.

“Did you hear me?” his voice drops deadly lower than before, his posture relaxed yet his eyes are dangerous. “Let. Go.”

Anton huffs, roughly letting go of your hand. He shakes his head. “You two are seriously something else,” he mutters before storming away.

You and Dongmin stand next to each other, cautiously eyeing Anton until he disappears from sight. For that moment, none of you say anything.

“What was that for?” you say suddenly, crossing your arms. “I didn’t need you to step in.”

Dongmin shoves his hood down to his neck, raising his eyebrow. Feeling slightly irritated, he scorns. “Yeah? Looked like you were having a great time.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, but something pinches Dongmin’s heart as he notices there’s no real bite behind it. “I’m fine—I had it all handled.”

Silence.

Dongmin exhales sharply, words shooting out of his mouth without second thought. “I know. It’s just–”

He stops, his eyes landing on your wrist. Closes his mouth.

You wait for a few moments, before warily asking. “What? Just what?”

Dongmin hesitates. Suddenly, it’s all he can push out of his throat. He’s already there, halfway crossing the line he’s put between you and him for the past two years.

And then, it just… slips out.

“I just can’t stand it, okay?”

Your frown deepens, confused. “Stand… what?”

Dongmin lets out a frustrated breath, turning sharply to completely face you. “I can’t stand seeing you with people like that fucking bastard. I can’t stand watching you get into these stupid situations. And I really, really can’t stand how much I—”

His eyes widen, and his words stumble upon a stop. Dongmin stammers, realising what he was just about to say.

“Taesan,” you call, gently, hope suddenly shimmering in your eyes. “How much you what?”

Dongmin freezes. He’s silent, tongue frozen, unable to utter another word.

He can’t say it.

Instead, he runs a hand through his hair, muttering curses under his breath.

“You know what?”

“Taesan–”

“Next time,” he says quickly, in a softer voice, “don’t… waste your time on a guy like him.”

Your eye contact is still intact, you open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. Your eyes widen for a split second—as if you’re catching on to the feelings displayed, unknowingly, on Dongmin’s face.

His concern is real.

“W-we should go,” you stammer instead, gesturing to the Law building.

Dongmin nods. He grabs your backpack from you, signalling for you to walk in first. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

You force yourself to walk as swiftly as possible to the lecture hall, heart pounding, mind racing. Behind you, Dongmin’s entire body is tense. He’s finally realising he can’t keep his feelings for you hidden forever.

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THE next day, you can’t stop thinking about Taesan—and whatever he was about to say to you. Your mind races with a million different thoughts throughout the day. What if he actually feels the same? What if you’re not the only one looking for something more in this fake arrangement?

However, given that exams are looming closer, you’re only given a short amount of time to dwell on your thoughts. After your last class of the day, you find yourself cooped up in the library, studying the rest of the day away. Several of your friends join you, too.

The study group grows, joined by both your friends and Taesan’s—though, you didn’t even realise that Taesan is sitting across you the entire day, until everyone starts leaving one by one.

By midnight, it’s only you and him. You don’t look up, but you can feel your heart thumping faster than usual. You’re hyper aware of your surroundings—how close he is, how his scent feels comforting yet intimidating, and how his presence is reminding you of something that you’re too afraid to admit.

“Y/N,” you open your eyes to someone gently shaking your shoulder, the reality of things crashing onto you all at once. You lift your head up, realising that you fell asleep in the middle of reviewing a past paper. Your eyes meet with Taesan’s concerned gaze.

His voice is low and soft, as if it’s only for you. “Let’s take a break. You’ve been snoozing off way too many times.”

Your heart is beating a little faster than usual, but you agree. Taesan’s request seems too casual, and he looks like he needs a break too.

You follow his lead, walking a little bit behind him to the convenience store that’s still open in campus grounds. He’s silent, observing you and letting you pick anything you want before paying for both your things and his.

“Go sit,” he says, holding your instant tteokbokki package in hand, along with his instant noodles. “I’ll heat these up.”

Taesan quickly moves to the microwave before you can say anything in retaliation, a sign that you take seriously. He’s not in the mood for any fights.

You take a seat, and soon after, Taesan joins you. He puts your instant meal in front of you, breaking your chopsticks for you.

“Here,” he says, his voice quiet. “Careful, the tteok is still hot.”

He then slips his coat around you before turning back to his own beverages.

You find yourself staring at him, long after he’s handed you your things. You watch him, peacefully releasing his tension—running a hand through his hair, chugging down a cup of coffee.

Everything around you looks like it has a blurred filter on, yet one thing is crystal clear: Taesan, and his evident care for you. The longer you stare at him, the more you realise.

He’s always been the one. He’s always been there.

It hits you harder than any bad grade has ever done.

Taesan has always been like this—quietly looking out for you, quietly caring for you.

All this while, all the banter, the little arguments, moments, and glances—it’s not just rivalry. It’s not just the fact that he always finds a way to make you all grumbly and irritated. It’s not just the fact that, even back when you were with Anton, he’d always find a way to show his care for you.

It’s not just the fact that you enjoy his company, even if he makes you feel like you want to bang your head against the wall.

You like him.

You like Han Taesan.

You quickly turn your head away, blood rushing to your head as soon as the realisation hits you. You stuff a few bites of instant tteokbokki into your mouth, wanting to quickly get rid of whatever this warm, refreshing feeling is.

“Can you stop looking at me like that, L/N?”

You cough, shocked at how his sudden comment breaks through the almost comforting silence. All the past moments you’ve had with him—the banter, the insults, the arguments—run through your head as soon as your last name, what Taesan had always called you, reaches your ears.

“Like what?” emboldened by the awakening of your feelings, you retort, your tone more challenging than you intended.

Taesan snaps, pushing his chair back, raking a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Like I’m your fucking boyfriend.”

“What?” you’re confused, not expecting that out of his mouth. “What are you–”

“Like you’re waiting for me to say something that I know I can’t take back.”

“Say it, then.”

You say, challenging him. It feels sentimental—like the old days, where all you did when you met Taesan was throw taunting words at him. But at the same time, the words come out of your mouth without realising—daring the two of you to finally cross the line.

“I like you, okay? I probably love you at this point, I don’t know. I don’t know when it started, but I do. And I—” He exhales sharply, his voice softer. “I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t.”

The world stops spinning and you stare at him, blank.

Your tongue feels numb, your heart racing at a million miles per hour.

You feel the same, you’re sure, but you don’t know how to respond. Do you smile and say it back? Do you tease him, calling him an idiot like you always do?

“I didn’t mean to fall for you,” you catch Taesan muttering.

You smile. “Me too,” you say softly.

Taesan lifts his head immediately, sharply turning to you with widened eyes. “... pardon?”

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

THE next few days feel like a refreshing spring breeze in the peak of winter, yet the air is filled with a cute awkwardness. After the confession, neither of you explicitly announce to one another that the two of you are a real couple now—yet your interactions feel new and unscripted, but no one exactly is making the first move.

Of course, your friends notice before the two of you do.

You’re sitting at the food hall together with Yunjin and Sophia, eating breakfast. You’re halfway through your pancakes, and Taesan—or Dongmin, as you call him now—suddenly takes a seat next to you.

“Mind if I join, girls?” he asks, a charming grin on his face. He’s asking the table, yet his gaze is directed to you. You bite your lip shyly, nodding.

“Sure, make yourself at home,” Yunjin says, her words laced with teasing. She watches with eagle eyes as Dongmin puts all of the sliced bananas from his serving of pancakes onto yours, knowing that you especially enjoy them with your breakfast pancakes. She snorts at the obvious look of love in Dongmin’s eyes, more evident now that he isn’t shoving insults at your face. “So, you two are really dating now?”

You choke on your bite of pancake, immediately blurting out,

“No!”

“Yes.”

You sharply turn to Dongmin, who has a smug look on his face. It’s the one look on his face that you’re used to, yet there’s a tint of pink on his cheeks. The edge of his smirk twitches, threatening to form into a cute, lovesick smile.

“...I see,” Sophia interrupts your awkward eye contact, sighing dramatically.

“We’re dating?” you ask Dongmin acutely, your brows connecting in an embarrassed frown.

“I don’t know,” Dongmin shrugs casually, the look in his eyes teasing. “Are we?”

The blush that instantly creeps up your cheeks tells you the answer. You look away, suddenly focused on the way you’re cutting your pancakes. Dongmin’s laugh echoes to your left, and your friends’ send you teasing looks.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

A few months later, on the first week back after winter break, you go on a walk around campus with your boyfriend, Han Dongmin. It feels weird, calling him yours now. Just almost half a year ago, you were fighting your ego to have your nemesis fake-date you in order to intimidate your ex into leaving you and your life alone. Now, that same thorn in your side has become the light of your life, the apple of your eye. Now, the two of you are in something that’s not written on a flimsy contract.

Dongmin had also helped clear out the rumours surrounding you—in the most annoying, Han Taesan way—announcing the truth about Anton by spreading it like a rumour to everyone. You still get second-hand embarrassment remembering that day, bombarded by questions and apologies from acquaintances and people you’ve only seen around.

“You know,” you say dreamily, distracted by your train of thought, “you’re so annoying—but I love you.”

Dongmin freezes, his steps coming to an immediate halt. You, too, freeze in your steps as you realise you’re a few steps ahead of him now. You turn around, eyebrows perked up. “What’s wrong, Dongmin?”

Dongmin.

The sound of your voice calling his birth name repeats in his mind, like a favourite song on loop. He stares, unable to say anything. His eyes fall on the pendant dangling from your neck, one that you started wearing due to the fake-dating arrangement. He remembered insisting that you take it off, so that he can buy you a new one later, but you said that it’s special so you won’t take it off.

I love you.

Dongmin feels a smile slowly bloom on his face.

She said it. She didn’t even hesitate. It’s like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

His face softens, jogging up to you. He gives you a cheeky smile.

“Say that again.”

You frown. “What again?”

“The first part.”

“What–” you pause, eyes widening as you get what he’s talking about. Heat rushes up your cheeks, warming your face despite Dongmin’s scarf wrapped around it. “I–”

“Yeah,” Dongmin says, smirking as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Me too.”

You bury yourself into the familiar scent of Dongmin’s scarf as he kisses your cheek.

“Fuck you, Han Dongmin,” you grumble, ignoring the obvious butterflies in your stomach.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

THAT weekend, you and Dongmin are eating lunch together at your favourite coffee shop. Dongmin had said that the vibes there makes him sleepy, and tried to bring you to eat at one of the more famous restaurants near the KOZ School of Engineering, yet the plan backfires on him when the line is certainly too long.

Now, the two of you are back at your favourite coffee shop, sipping warm cinnamon lattes.

“See?” you tease, smiling cheekily. “I told you this place is the best.”

Dongmin rolls his eyes, taking a big spoonful of the chocolate cinnamon roll on your plate. “I want to eat some real food, like kimchi jjigae, not these sweet chocolate desserts,” he complains, though he can’t hide the fact that he secretly loves it.

“Yet you’re the one finishing my cinnamon roll,” you retort, letting him subconsciously finish your dessert. You’re familiar with his love for chocolate.

Dongmin flashes you an innocent smile, shrugging. “Not my fault.”

Comfortable silence engulfs the two of you, letting you bask in each other’s presence. Suddenly, Dongmin leans closer, adjusting the place of the H.D pendant on your décolletage. Frozen, you watch him lean back into his seat, smiling as he admires you.

“You look good today,” he murmurs, “actually, you look good everyday.”

An undeniable tint of pink colours your face. “I’m literally wearing a black turtleneck sweater, Dongmin.”

His gaze softens. “Like the first time you sat next to me, three years ago, during our foundation year.”

Your eyes widen, your mind replaying the memory, fresh like it happened yesterday. “You… remember?”

“Of course,” Dongmin replies, his smile delicate.

“I even remember the day you walked up to me, confident and all. I thought you were going to brag to my face that you won first place for the quiz we had the day before, but then you told me to fake date you.”

You almost spit out the coffee from your mouth. “Han Dongmin!” you hiss. “Don’t remind me… it was so stupid.”

“Stupid?” Dongmin asks, tilting his head. The signature cocky smirk is back on his face. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah…” you sigh, “I mean, I could’ve resolved the matter by myself, you know–”

“But you know that I’m the best option,” Dongmin cuts you off, smug. You roll your eyes.

“I don’t think it’s stupid, though,” he continues, his expression softer. More… raw. “To be honest, I think I was ecstatic that you walked up to me that day.”

“Why?” you ask croakily.

“‘Cause I’ve always liked you, Y/N. I always have. I just don’t understand where things went wrong—maybe it’s the way I thought teasing you would gain me your attention at first. It did. But then, you became used to my teasing and thought of me as a threat—maybe ‘cause I’m smart as hell, too—but yeah. I don’t know how to say it but, all of that hatred was… pretend.”

You blink at him, too shocked to process his words. You try to reply, but mere stuttering comes out, and your face turns bright red.

Dongmin notices this, of course, and he turns on his shameless, impudent grin. “Besides, you said you’re going to grant me any wish that I have, right?”

Oh.

You inhale sharply. How could you forget? You immediately bring out your phone, checking the balance in your bank account. It’s quite a luxury, due to you working a few part time jobs during your break and whenever you can—but you certainly don’t think it’s fit for whatever grand wish Dongmin is about to demand from you.

“Fine,” you huff, “only because it’s part of our… old contract.”

“Old contract, huh?” Dongmin wheezes, already laughing hard. You frown, fighting back a smile.

“Why are you always laughing whenever I speak, dumbass?”

“Hey,” Dongmin pauses his laughter, flicking your forehead gently. It doesn’t even hurt, but you gasp dramatically, and he laughs it off. “It’s babe for you, sweet girl. And, I’m not laughing at you. I’m just admiring how cute and funny you are.”

Babe, huh?

You snort, hiding a smile. “Fine.”

“Anyway, speaking of the old contract,” Dongmin grins, “what’s the new one, then?”

“You haven’t even told me what sort of dumb, overpriced thing you want for your wish,” you say, lips set in a grim line. “And now you want another one?”

“My wish, huh?”

The unreadable look on his face makes you brace yourself and your wallet.

“Then, my darling, this is my wish.”

Dongmin leans forward, brushing his lips against yours. It’s subtle, short and sweet, but significant enough for you to realise it all—the reality of your feelings and his. He lingers for a while before sitting back in his chair.

“So,” he says coolly, ignoring the plain blush streaked across his face. “Can you grant me the wish? To kiss you anytime, and anywhere I want?”

“Basically, physical affection can be done anytime?” you say, quoting what this man in front of you said months ago, when both of you first agreed on the fake-dating situation. The whole absurd set-up that brought the two of you to where you are, today.

Dongmin laughs, clearly impressed. “Yeah,” he nods.

You give him a warm smile, glad that you’re finally able to follow your heart’s desires, and to not put up a wall of defense around him anymore.

“Wish granted.”

― © htaesan, 2025.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀want more like this? check out the 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

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sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack · 1 day ago

Text

Lessons in Restraint

Viktor x fem! reader

After losing a bet to your partner, you end up having to deal with the consequences of your actions, no matter how much you beg.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dom/sub dynamics, bondage

A/N: wrote this in a fugue state at 4am and finished it on public transit, I’m a god of creation lol. Not proofread at all but I like it. This is so horny and debauched have fun. Reblogs and comments make my day (I read every single one)

“You know, it’s incredibly satisfying to see you like this after talking such a big game.” His voice is lilting and thick and like a haunting melody that weaves its way into your brain and doesn’t leave, no matter how hard you try to expel it.

The smirk is audible and as you stare up at this man from your place on the floor, rage bubbles deep within you, flavoring the already cultivated desire that has been driving your instincts.

A bet. A stupid, idiotic, ridiculous bet was all it took to end up here: naked, bound, and kneeling before Viktor as if he were your king.

The bet had been simple.

“You have no self control.” He’d mocked you one late night in the lab as you lay draped over him on the small beat to hell couch they’d brought in for you. Basking in the post-sex glow, you laughed airily, your mind still a bit foggy and blissed out.

“Neither do you. Can you blame me? I’m a girl who knows what she wants.” You punctuated your statement by snuggling further into him.

A chuckle, then “Patience is a virtue. God you’re probably not even able to last a week without needing me.” His hands tracing lazy patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Is that a challenge?” Your eyes narrowed at him from your place on his chest.

“Perhaps.”

He’d been right of course. You didn’t last a week without needing him, folding just on the morning of day 6, practically begging him to fuck you, touch you, anything at all.

The smirk that split his face was so vile and hypnotizing that you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. Of course, he obliged and fucked you so good you couldn’t walk for a day.

“You need lessons in restraint, humility. And seeing as you lost the bet…”

Which led you to right now.

Two in the morning.

Completely alone in his lab.

At his mercy.

The soft rope around your wrists and ankles caresses your skin, knots only tightening as you squirm. Wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, and just for an added kick in the mouth, wrist to ankle. Knees spread and back arched as Viktor sat in his desk chair, which from this angle looked much more like a throne on which an emperor sat.

Alas, it would not be the benevolent kind.

“What, no witty comeback or retort for me? Are you all out of fight? Or are you just learning to mind your tongue?” he leans forward, forehead almost touching yours but not quite. He hasn’t touched you in over an hour. Just lingering stares or fabric or even the occasional breath of air. Nothing else.

“Or…” he leans close to yours ear, “you’re just being quiet to avoid the shame?” White hot fear washes over you. It’s so hot it’s freezing and you want to simultaneously worm away from the sensation and also surrender to it.

“Pity. This is a lesson in humility. Obedience. Discipline. Trust.” His voice softens at the last word and there’s a brief moment where his gaze shifts, full of adoration and love and awe. It doesn’t last long though; enough for you to smile back, and give a quick confirmation that ‘yes you’re ok and want to keep going’.

“Well? Nothing at all?” He sits back up, towering over you and you cannot help but avert your gaze underneath his stare. It pins you to the wall like a pretty butterfly in a shadowbox.

“Unh-unh…” he tuts disapprovingly and it’s all the warning before the end up his cane is tipping your chin back up, allowing you to properly look at him.

“None of that. So rude, absolutely no manners. You should be ashamed of yourself.” He stares down the length of his cane at you, eyes molten and burning as he speaks.

“I…” but there’s nothing you can really say for yourself now. He’s right. As he usually is. You are ashamed.

“No? Not a thing in that pretty little head of yours is there?” He removes his cane from your chin and lets it fall to the floor, hands folding on his lap as he ponders what to do with you.

Eyes rove over your twitching body, no doubt a puddle of wetness below you dripping from your aching core. It’s pathetic and humiliating and some sick fucked up part of you relishes in it. He knows it too, head tilting as he looks down.

“Oh, poor thing. You’re just drenched aren’t you?” the mockery in his voice stirs a frustrated whimper out of you, pulls it from your chest like one would pull a hook from the stomach of fish who’d swallowed it. Bloody and violent and unable to do a damn thing about it.

“Such a pretty sound.” It’s not to you, just musing to himself. You whine again, roll your hips as you stare up at him, hoping he’ll take pity on you. Touch you.

“Viktor…you’re being cruel…” your voice is fucked out and ragged, despite the lack of stimulation. He’s brought you this close with barely anything but his voice and a few lengths of rope. A feat, really. He’ll brag about it for the rest of your life.

“Am I? Or are you just not prepared to accept that your actions have consequences?”

“I just wanna touch you…” you crane your neck up at him, staying rooted to your spot but reaching. He is a planet and you a mere comet pulled into his gravitational field, circling.

He thinks for a moment, you can see the gears working in his head.

“You want to cum?” No one, nor any amount of liquor could get you to admit how earnestly you nodded your head at his words, how desperately. With a quick move you weren’t expecting, he bends forward in his seat and wraps a pale hand around your throat. The sensation is near overwhelming as he hasn’t touched you in an hour, fingers now digging into the delicate column holding up your head.

“I think…” he tilts your head this way and that, ever the scientist, taking in every observation, every bead of sweat, every tremble, “…I have a compromise that will suffice.”

With a bit of a gentler hand, he pulls you forwards by your neck, his own rolling chair moving to meet you as you shuffle forward. He pulls you closer, closer, until his knee is flush with your sternum, and you’re situated directly over his shoe.

Fear washes over you, curls its fingers into your hair, your spine, your stomach.

“You want to cum so bad?” He jerks up his foot at the end of his sentence, bumping it against your clit in a way that has you nearly doubling over and letting out a strangled yelp.

“Go ahead, sweet thing.” Your neck is still in his grip, so you know he can feel the way your pulse races forward like an engine.

“B-but-“ a protest forms in your mouth but it’s squeezed out of you as his hand tightens.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not making the decisions around here. And that wasn’t a request. Do it.” His tone is icy and piercing and it scares you in a way that urges you forward, letting the humiliation continue to worm its way into your synapses.

He lets go, a little roughly, and straightens his back, looking down at you as if you were an amusing pet.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shut your eyes briefly and take a deep breath, pushing it out rather forcefully.

The first roll of your hips is torturous. It’s friction you haven’t had in hours, so sensitive and swollen that the leather and lace send fireworks through you.

But it’s something, and you’ve been so patient, so agonizingly horny that you’ll take anything. And he knows that.

And the motherfucker is laughing.

“Oh…wow…I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Just so eager to please and be pleased aren’t you?” A deceptively gentle hand caresses your cheek and you lean into it instinctively, the sweetness juxtaposed to his cruel treatment making your head spin a bit.

“What base creatures we humans are. Willing to throw pride and dignity aside all for a biological need to fuck each other like rabbits. All for the pleasure of climax. Slaves to our hormones; all the blood being sent to your swollen cunt, none left for your brain.” The last bit is a coo, a mocking pity that weighs heavy on your sensation addled mind. His hand on your cheek is a cool balm on your feverish skin, tracing your cheekbone in reverence as the words he spits tear at you.

You move faster, chasing the high that is slowly but surely building in the lowest part of your stomach. It’s a dull burn that exponentially increases in intensity and heat. Every word he says is a stoke to the catching blaze.

A low rumble of appreciation stirs from Viktor’s chest, and the pride that swells in you as you look up at his appraising gaze pushes much of the embarrassment aside. The joy of approval, the delicious praise that a mere look can bestow; you need it like you’ve never needed anything before.

“Oh you are splendid, sweet thing. Such a good girl, so eager to please.” His hand drifts to your open mouth, fingers dancing along the pad of your lip. With no other instruction, you lean forward and take two of his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digits in such a lewd manner that the workers of the brothels would blush.

There’s a small intake of breath from your Viktor, a brief slip of composure as he stares at you in awe. His eyes sparkle with want and need and adoration.

“You…are perfect, so wonderful for me.” His other hand cradles your head as his fingers push in deeper, pressing down on your tongue slightly. You double your efforts at his sweet words, spurred on with renewed vigor. For me. Yes. For him, always for him, his, his, his, his.

“Oh you liked that did you? You like when I tell you how good you’re doing for me? How beautiful you look there on your knees, fingers in your mouth, truly you put fine art to shame. You were made for this, perfect, so perfect.” He muses, and the heat in your core grows hotter with every breath he takes to speak. Your poor hips are stuttering, so desperately close to cumming all over his pristine leather shoes. Moans spill forth around his fingers as you lose your grip on sanity, oh but what a sweet descent into madness it is.

“Go on. Go on darling, cum. That’s it, make a mess of yourself, that’s it, good girl, oh…” he marvels at you as you contract into him, the force of your orgasm pulling a strangled scream from your lungs. It’s wave after wave of white hot ecstasy, and your hips undulate a few more times as you ride it out, milking it for every last drop. His hand retracts from your mouth and he holds you, cupping your face in his hands.

“Wonderful darling, you did wonderful, absolutely perfect. So good, so good for me.” Fingers card through your hair, hands guiding your head to rest on his knee. You’re grateful for the support, it’s getting awful hard to keep your head up. The thigh of his good leg is sturdy and strong from baring the brunt of his weight. It’s grounding beneath you.

Slowly but surely, your breathing evens out, his hands petting your hair reverentially, holding you as you come down from your high. You stay like that for a while, until your knees start to hurt and your wrists ache, causing you to whimper at the newly forming pain.

“Are you alright lásko? Can I move you?” He whispers, hands never stopping his movements. You nod against his leg, weak but sure.

“M’good. Just go slow.” Your voice is hoarse and crackly from exhaustion. He bends down, kisses your head, and picks it up off of his thigh. With a twist, he adjust his chair so it’s a bit lower to the ground, closer to you. He reaches around, kissing your shoulder as he does so, and unties the ropes around your wrists and ankles. They fall away, and your arms instinctively reach for him.

“Soon, miláčku. Can you stand?”

“Mhm.” He grips your hands, helping you to your feet, and you’re alright for the most part, just a bit shaky. Viktor reaches for his cane, stands, and leads you by the hand to the couch in the corner of the lab. The leather is cool against your skin as he situates you in the cushions.

“I’ll be right back, just getting you water. Wrap the blanket around you alright?” You nod, his voice your tether to reality. In mere moments he’s back with water in hand, and not long after he’s sitting next to you, pressing you into his good side, arm an anchor over your shoulders. You curl instinctively into him, clutching the blanket around yourself.

“Are you sure you’re ok, sweet thing?”

“I’m sure Viktor.” Your voice has returned to you, as has most of your facilities. The weight of Viktor against you helps immensely.

“Wow.”

“Wow indeed.” He knocks his head against yours, and you laugh, snuggling further into him.

“I can’t say I didn’t know you had it in you, because you’re the most in control person I’ve ever met, but holy shit Vik.” The smell of his cologne and shampoo washes over you as you nestle closer into his neck, so ineffably him.

His cheek is pressed to the top of your head as he says , “I hope that is a positive ‘holy shit’.”

“Oh certainly.” You sit up slightly to look him in the eyes, “Vik. That was amazing. I…you were fantastic. It was everything I could’ve wanted.” A dopey smile spreads across your face and you can see the blush forming on his cheeks, the pride swelling in his chest.

“Thank you for trusting me with you.”

“Vik I trust you with my life.” You kiss his cheek, and he chuckles, a pretty sound that you wish you’d hear more often. But as the months go by, it’s starting to become a bit more familiar.

“And I trust you with mine.”

“Yeah but I just use that leverage to get you to bed at night so you don’t die of sleep deprivation.” He snorts as he pulls you in closer to him.

“Isn’t it common practice for someone in your position to nap after a scene?”

You laugh, but acquiesce and snuggle into him further, “you’re just deflecting, one day I’ll fix your sleep schedule.” But your eyes are already closing and his hands are playing with your hair.

“Sure, lásko. Sleep well. I love you.”

You smile, though you’re already halfway to sleep, “love you too.”

#viktor x reader #viktor x you #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane #arcane league of legends #viktor arcane #izzy writes

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 2 days ago

Text

bath. l Joel Miller

Summary: Joel is immobilized and giving you a hard time

Warnings: nothing much, some intimacy, shared bath, Ellie wants to get rid of Joel, boring conversations

A/N: it's something before something, so it's boring. it doesn't contribute much. if you want to support my tired mind, feel free to . kisses

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

A broken collarbone wasn't what Joel expected. When the doctor at the clinic in Jackson, where you took him the next day, told him that he would be immobilized for a few weeks, Joel just sighed heavily. He was put in a sling and told to take care of himself so that the bone would heal properly.

It was humiliating.

Even when you left the clinic together and you took his left hand in yours, he didn't feel any better.

"I'm useless now." he mumbled, watching you choose apples and vegetables for dinner.

"Not at all." you replied calmly. "You'll just rest now. See how good it will do you."

Where did you get that optimistic belief? Joel had no idea. He was glad that your argument hadn't affected your relationship, because his head was telling him all the tragic scenarios, but now he was dependent on others for help. And worst of all, he couldn't help you,

You were the one who brought the box of food home. And then you hung the laundry out in the warm spring sun. You made dinner, and Joel...

"Can you take him somewhere?" Ellie rushed into the kitchen for the third day, a blush covering her cheeks. "He's unbearable!"

"Please, have mercy on him." you sighed. "This is the first time since..."

"He just came asking if I did my homework!" Ellie rolled her eyes and raised her hands in despair. "I'm not eight! Can we abandon him somewhere? In the forest, for example?"

You looked at her with amusement. "Of course not! But this is new to him. You know he doesn't go on patrol now, that he can't do much in the stables either."

"So you're sacrificing me?"

"Hey! I can't drag him around with me forever, he's an adult."

Ellie folded her arms across her chest and looked at you with satisfaction. "Maybe he's getting on your nerves too, huh?"

"That's not... That's not true!"

But sometimes it was like that. Joel was looking for something to do, something he could do with one hand. When he tried to help you with the laundry, it took longer than usual. Things weren't going his way at the stables either and when you went to visit him there, you saw how furious he was. Even Tommy washed his hands and didn't want to come near him.

"Fine." you finally sighed "I'll take care of him. He won't follow you around anymore."

The girl's face lit up. "I'm sure you'll have a great time!"

You didn't know if she was joking or serious.

You found Joel in the bedroom where he had been struggling with his shirt for a few minutes. He was already irritated enough and when you stood in front of him to help unbutton it, he only mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Don't pout like that." you said, smiling "That won't help you."

"Ellie already complained about me?" you nodded "I just wanted to..."

"I know, and she knows it too. Don't think about it now." You carefully took off his shirt, noticing how he winced when you helped him free his arm. "I'll draw you a bath."

"I can do it myself."

"Let me take care of you, Joel." you murmured, kissing his pouty lips.

This was amazing. A completely different level of sensation and pleasure. The bathroom was filled with steam and the pleasant scent of lavender. He could feel your body behind him, your legs were on his sides, and his back was resting on your chest. Joel closed his eyes in pleasure. You slowly washed his hair, massaging his scalp carefully. This made him turn into a purring mess, which he clearly liked.

"When was the last time someone really took care of you, huh?" you chuckled as a soft growl escaped his chest.

"I can't remember. You take care of me, don't you?"

"As much as you let me. Close your eyes." you poured a cup of warm water over his hair to rinse off the shampoo. "You should use this time, rest, get some sleep..."

His hand slid up your calf. "I feel useless." he mumbled. "Like I'm a fucking cripple or something."

"Nobody thinks of you like that." you wrapped your arms around him and kissed his temple. "Sometimes you're just a pain in the ass. Joel!" he squeezed your calf harder and you jumped. "Stop it, or I'll forget you're hurt!"

You both fell silent for a moment, soaking up this intimate time. These were special moments, you wanted to have them just for yourselves, because they made you feel that what you felt, that you were - was real. Only his voice, quiet but deep, tore you from your reverie.

"Do you remember the first time you hugged me?"

"Yes, I remember."

"I would never have dared to dream of being with you like I am now... I was convinced that I would lose you. It scared me. I didn't remember what it was like to have someone so close. I was sure that when you saw what I was like, you would run away."

You ran your fingers through his wet hair. You remembered exactly how tense Joel was then. You were sure that he would push you away, but he didn't. He just patted you awkwardly on the back as if he wasn't sure if he was doing it right.

"I was scared too..." you said quietly, glad that Joel couldn't see your face. "I haven't done this in a long time... And you were... Yourself. I saw how you were to Ellie, but I was a stranger to you."

His hand found yours, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. "You were the best thing that happened to us, really. And certainly to me. But... You never told me."

"About what?"

"How did you even end up there? You said you were with a group, then you were left alone, but nothing more."

He felt it immediately. Your body tensed, you took a deep breath.

"This isn't a good time, you know. It's not even important."

"But-"

"We should get out, you know. I'll make dinner, you must be hungry."

Joel didn't protest. You could see the consternation on his face, questions swirling in his eyes, but he didn't want to push you. That was wonderful about him, he didn't push, he just waited until someone was ready to talk.

It was the second time he asked you about it, and you dodged it again. Joel understood that no one wanted to talk about difficult and painful things, but he had a strange feeling that nothing good had happened to you. And that broke his heart.

"Tommy asked me today if I would go on the next patrol with Sam and Anthony." You said as you both sat down on the couch after dinner, and you reached for the book you were currently reading together.

"I was supposed to go with them." Joel noticed.

"I know, but I thought... After that last trip for supplies, I didn't go anywhere further than the beaten patrol paths. It could be fun."

Joel didn't think it would "be fun," but he knew that you cared about feeling active and important again. He talked to Shane, he knew that your joint patrols were peaceful, but there Walsh kept an eye on you. And now?

"If that's what you want." He finally said and saw the smile on your face. "Just be careful."

"I always am." You opened the book and glanced at the next chapter. "Alright, let's get back to our Bennet sisters. I really liked them."

Your calm voice soon filled the living room, but it didn't reach Joel's mind at all. He was still considering your words, strange fears starting to churn under his skin.

If it weren't for that damned arm...

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #short stories from life

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firestarishomophobic · 8 hours ago

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HEY THERE! im going to keep additional reblogs to a minimum so that op can rest easy. go give them love!!

anyway, thank you to everyone who brought this to my attention. i appreciate everyone being kind and understanding. i will explain my reasoning for why i did this BUT please know that i 100% understand why this is ableist and why this name is not appropriate.

in canon, deadfoot is proud of his name and expresses that he likes it, which is why it made sense to me that cinderpaw might have the same mindset if he is her mentor. however the erin’s are ableist as shit so that is not an excuse. i also considered that warrior cats IS an ableist society. it is sometimes explored, but largely it remains incredibly ableist (jayfeather and briarlight banished to the medicine den because the rest of the clan couldn’t be arsed to accommodate). as a militaristic society, it made sense that a warrior might want their name to reflect something that happened to them in which they prevailed (like showing off battle scars?).

HOWEVER. i still completely see why the name is inappropriate and ableist. if i go any further with this au i will rename her! i don’t want it to just be cinderpelt so ideas and suggestions are welcome…

anyway, thanks again to everyone who pointed this out! if you would like to discuss it further or have any more criticisms, please reach out to me directly instead of on this post so that op doesn’t get any negative attention for something i did.

weird as hell that cinderpelt is denied becoming a warrior after her leg got mangled on the exact same book that deadfoot is introduced. do you think she was pissed as hell when she found out that another three-legged cat is the deputy of windclan

#warrior cats #remy yaps #cinderpelt #deadfoot

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melercies · 1 day ago

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imagine this...

pairing(s): nam-gyu x pinkguard!reader (specifically triangle) x thanos imagine

warning(s): gender-neutral reader(!!), slightly suggestive at the end. Read at your own risk, intended use of lowercase. my best interpretation of these two characters.

author's note: I PULLED UP BOTH OF THEIR WIKIS TO READ AND TRY GET THEIR CHARACTERS FROM THEIR PERSONALITY. i remembered that i had request this as an anon towards someone's blog (specifically midnite-c6; heavily inspired by their incredible writing), and figured to emphasize it with some ideas of my own. i'm grateful for them for writing it. I did give a subtle background for the reader too. :) Please let me know if I missed anything. Likes, Reblogs and Comments are highly appreciated!

you were simply just like any other ordinary pink guard, managing, upkeeping, and enforcing the rules of this horrendous game under the order of the Front Man. since you were given the opportunity to work as a soldier in the games due to the hopeless situation you were in before becoming a pink solider. desperate times calls for desperate measures you suppose.

all you had to do was follow the rules; never remove your masks to reveal your identity, no questioning of any command given or initiate any friendships to gain any forms of attachment. just eliminate players and make sure none of the contestants broke any of the game's guidelines. simple enough, right?

wrong. there were two particular contestants that had caught your attention. you shouldn't have been intrigued by them, you mentally scolded yourself. But it was hard not to be. they were literally acting as if these death games were the same as a children's playground. it was absurd. but it was amusing...to say the least.

after watching the purple-haired contestant who seems to go by the name, thanos, who was skipping around, killing players and having the time of his life in red light, green light along with nam-gyu following around, and partaking within the tense conflict between player 333, thanos and himself, you've made your choice.

of course, you were cautious and careful about the decisions you've made. you were as subtly as possible, if you were caught, dire consequences were to be delivered your way or, to save the effort and time, kill you.

you've made sure to ensure their safety for now, wanting to keep them alive to draw out the possibilities as to what they could do next to entertain you. even if it meant to kill other contestants unfairly as you kept a sharp eye towards their direction.

you've given them small advantages sneakily here and there, managing to slip by without a singular witness or anyone catching what you were doing. going from preventing conflicts that could get both of them killed to giving them extra food within their meals given in comparison to other players' meals.

of course, it didn't take long til one of them took notice before informing the other. the only question lingering within their minds, why? they knew you were one of the guards who were tasked to eliminate those who lose within the games, so why are you...helping them?

despite the triangular mask you wore to conceal your identity, they plan to find out who you were and confront to you. both keeping a rather particular eye on you. they knew which guard you were, often catching you taking a slight subtle glance towards their direction or they could just sense it, they just fucking knew it was you.

especially when it came to meal times, you would stand there with one hand that held a drink and the other that held the given sustenance (if you could even call it a proper nourishment for the players...) giving each player their limited ration, ignoring their complaints and noises of disbelief until it came to them.

the main dormitory was noisy, filled with the atmosphere of weary players who had just endured another brutal round. the smell of the tasteless food wafted through the air, mixing with the lingering fear and tension that never seemed to fade in this place. the players grumbled and complained about their meager rations, their voices filled with frustration, but you, as always, stood motionless behind the food station, handing out the same bland meal to each one of them.

the mask you wore, that stark triangular symbol, was meant to hide everything; your face, your emotions, your identity. to blend in with the other guards, to remain invisible. but it was becoming harder. they were starting to notice you.

as you handed out the meal to the next few contestants, you couldn't help, but feel their eyes on you. nam-gyu's calculating gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary, though he remained silent. thanos, however, was blatant. both of them trying to figure you out despite the appearance you kept up was hard enough to get a read from.

when thanos had appeared next in line, you could feel the tension between you, thick and almost palpable. thanos was grinning, his usual cocky self, but this time there was something behind that grin, something more calculated in the way he sized you up. nam-gyu stood behind him, calm as ever, but you could see the flicker of something behind his eyes. an awareness that wasn't there before.

you moved to hand thanos his ration, a carton of milk and bread wrapped in plastic. you handed it to him with your usual blank expression, but before you could pull your hand away, you subtly slide an extra piece of bread, quickly and barely for anyone to notice.

thanos didn't flinch, didn't make any overt sign that he saw it. he simply took the rations with a slow, deliberate motion, his eyes not leaving you for a second. he stared at the food in his hands, looking back at you with a sly, knowing smile before turning around and heading back to his bunk. nam-gyu, on the other hand, stepped forward, an undeniable intensity within his eyes. he knew. they both knew. the question now was what they'd do with this knowledge.

without saying another word, you turned and moved to hand nam-gyu his rations, finding your own heart racing, but maintained the same calm demeanor as you slipped an extra piece of bread. just the same thing you've done for thanos, feeling nam-gyu's gaze on your form, sharper than ever.

his fingers had brushed against yours for moment, and you felt a brief shiver at the subtle touch before he politely thanked you. he took his rations and headed where thanos was sitting. you knew that thanos and nam-gyu would be conversing upon it, no one noticing that they were getting these advantages when the other contestants were too busy conversing upon what could possibly be ahead for them or the food in front of them.

you handed out the last of the rations with a quick, controlled motion, ignoring the lingering eyes of thanos and nam-gyu. "enjoy your meal," you stated, your voice cool, almost disinterested. then, without another word, you turned and moved away, the weight of their scrutiny following you.

it was risky. you knew it was, and yet, you still continued on. both of them were still alive. because of you.

there was at one point, where thanos had tried offering you the small pills inside his cross necklace which you were questioning as to how it managed to get within the game itself with no detection. which you declined, shaking your head while nam-gyu was poking your body, and touching your mask. you didn't know if he was doing this out of curiosity or simply for his own enjoyment, but each touch caused you to flinch and when he was about to pull your mask off, you didn't hesistate to lift your gun and point it directly at him as a warning. obviously, they backed off from that, not wanting to get killed.

questions would tend to spur towards you between both of them, but you never answered a singular question of theirs. and it certainly didn't take long til a confrontation occured during your shift of covering the bathrooms, making sure no one is causing trouble. one of your shifts would be where things would certainly take a turn for you.

the dimly lit corridor of the bathroom hallway felt strangely still, a quiet echo of the chaos that always surrounded the players. you stood with you back pressed against the cold wall, your triangular mask in place, you eyes scanning the hallway within an unblinking focus. the task was simple, stand guard, make sure no players caused trouble, and ensure no one broke the rules. as long as you kept your distance, it was easy to blend in.

but tonight was different. the air felt charged, a tense electricity crackling around you as you stood. you had a feeling something was coming, and when thanos and nam-gyu appeared, you knew the storm was finally here.

thanos strutted toward the bathroom door with his usual carefree swagger, his purple hair messy and wild. but his eyes, those sharp, calculating eyes, flicked toward you for a split second, and you could feel the weight of his gaze. he had already started to sense something.

behind him, nam-gyu walked more slowly, his posture calm, but there was a sharpness in his steps. he had always been more observant, and it didn't take long for his eyes to lock on you as well. you did your best to keep still, not giving anything away, but they were too good. they knew.

"you," thanos's voice broke the silence, teasing but with an edge of something darker. he stopped in front of you, his lips curling into a smirk as he looked you over, then glanced to nam-gyu. "i knew it was you. always watching, always giving us just enough. don't think i didn't notice, guard."

"you've been helping us," nam-gyu said, his voice low, almost cold. "extra food, extra attention...you're not just doing your job. you're playing a different game, hmm?"

thanos's grin widened, sensing the opportunity. he leaned in, close enough that his breath fanned against your triangular mask. the one thing that separated both you and him, and you somehow found yourself gripping the firearm in your hands tighter. "what's your angle, guard? what are you getting out of this? you've been pretty... generous to us, haven't you?" his voice dripped with amusement, but there was something more dangerous in the way he spoke now.

you stood there, frozen for a moment, your heart pounding under the mask. you have been careful. you have bee subtle. but here you were, both of them were standing in front of you, catching onto your quiet acts of defiance. the games weren't just about survival for them; they were about control, about manipulation and right now, they were flipping that dynamic onto you.

before you could respond or move away, thanos's hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a sudden force that left no room for protest. "you're not going anywhere," he said, his voice low and insistent, a playful glint in his eyes as he pulled you towards a door that lead to the men's bathroom. "we've got some questions for you, guard." nam-gyu didn't need to speak; the message was clear. you weren't going to get away without giving proper answers.

the door to the men's bathroom slammed shut behind you as thanos pushed you inside, dragging you further into the dimly lit room. it was empty; just you, thanos, and nam-gyu.

thanos leaned in, his breath hot against your mask as he whispered, "you thought you could sneak by, didn't you? you thought you could just help us without anyone noticing." he took a step back, his grin growing wider, more dangerous.

nam-gyu moved closer, his movements deliberate, but a quiet power was evident in his eyes that sent a shiver through you. "you've been careful, but not careful enough," he said, his voice mockingly soft yet piercing. "we know what you've been doing. and now you're doing to explain it to us, right?"

you took a slow step back, but thanos was faster, his hand shooting out to block your retreat. his fingers brushed against you as he leaned in once more. "you've been playing both sides, haven't you? helping us, getting close. do you like it? do you like being close to us?"

the tension between the three of you was thick, the silence hanging in the air, broken only by your steady breaths underneath the mask. you had never been this close to them before, and now the weight of their scruntiny was more suffocating than you had anticipated.

thanos stepped forward, his face inches from yours, his smirk never wavering. it almost felt he and nam-gyu could see through your mask. "you're not so good at hiding, are you? i can feel it. you want something more from us, don't you?" his voice was suddenly soft, almost teasing though, as if he were savoring the moment. "maybe you just want to be seen."

nam-gyu didn't speak immediately as you felt nam-gyu suddenly holding onto your mask, almost as if he was about to lift it and reveal your identity towards them. his other hand holding onto your shoulder in a grip, rubbing it slightly. you didn't stop him, remaining completely still. "you're playing a dangerous game, y'know?" nam-gyu murmured close.

the words hung in the air, thick with tension, and just as you thought they might let you go, thanos leaned in, a final whisper of threat in his voice. "i think you like this. being caught. being trapped between us." his hand grazed your arm as he spoke, his grip tightening slightly on your wrist.

nam-gyu's eyes traced over you, intense and unwavering, his gaze heavy with unspoken meaning. a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he took a step closer. his voice was low, almost a whisper. "you'll figure it out soon enough," he murmured. "what it really means to play with us...and what happens when you finally stop pretending you're not interested." his hand then lifted up your mask.

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ramp-it-up · 1 day ago

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Peach V

Peach IV | Peach VI

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is a mob boss trying to get clean. Maybe it’s because he’s in love. With you. He's got you on his turf in NYC. Are you finally willing to admit that you want to be with him?

Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I love these two like I can’t explain. The slow burn speeds up a lil bit in this. There’s some action. 🥹 This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in the Steve Rogers fic Peach IV. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, EXTREME Mutual pining, idiots in love, lusting, dancing lessons, use of the words ‘mad’ and ‘crazy,’ Bucky is a jerk, boy do you get jealous. Kissing and heavy petting in the form of oral sex, female receiving. Lil bit of Dom Steve if you squint. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

“Welcome to SOB’s.”

You were one of the first awardees up to present to the group. Each recipient picked a NYC area artistic landmark to research and lead the others on a tour, discussing the significance to the art form for which they received funding.

As always, you were going outside of the box.

You looked around and concentrated on not staring at Steve. He looked so fine, foregoing his tailored sport coats this evening for a black pullover pushed up on his hairy, corded forearms.

Dark jeans clung to his thighs and black boots encased his huge feet. What he was wearing highlighted every physical attribute that made you weak. He was quite the distraction, but you were a professional.

You smiled at your cousin and Bucky, who were beaming at you, and began.

“Sounds of Brazil isn’t just a club—it’s a melting pot of culture, rhythm, and history that’s been bringing global sounds to the city since 1982.”

You moved around the relatively small dark space, but then a screen came down on the stage and a slide show of performances danced across it, with accompanying music flowing from the speakers.

“SOB’s started as a space to showcase Brazilian, Latin, Caribbean, and African music, and quickly became a go-to spot for hip-hop, R&B, and reggae too. The Afro-Caribbean Queen herself, Ms. Celia Cruz, as well as Marc Anthony, J Cole, HER and Mac Miller (rest his soul) have all rocked this stage.”

You were silent for a moment and then continued.

“This place is more than music; it’s about community, culture, and the celebration of diverse sounds. For me, dance is life. And it’s music such as what was fostered here that inspires me. It’s places like this that give life to the creativity of my art and my soul.”

“The vibe here is immaculate. It’s intimate, electric, and always unpredictable. Just imagine the countless artists who’ve poured their souls into performances right on this stage.This isn’t just a club, it’s a meld of culture, rhythm, and history that’s been bringing global sounds to the city since 1982.”

The video and music turned to Celia Cruz’s “Toro Mata” and three beautiful women, who looked like showgirls, came from backstage.

“In February, Salsa Groove starts at SOB’s with free salsa lessons, happy hour, and many other fun things. These ladies are here to give us a preview, so find a partner and let’s dance!”

Sharon moved toward Steve, but Sam grabbed her and she plastered on a fake smile. You smiled over at your cousin who was currently in the process of being caught up in the arms of James Buchanan Barnes.

Activity swirled around you as the dance instructors organized groups to teach, but you and Steve were left in the center of the dance floor.

You smiled at him.

“Looks like I get to teach you Mr. Rogers.”

“Lucky me. Hope your feet survive.”

His sexy chuckle did you in as you slid into his arms. You placed your arms in the right position, but shifted to help him adjust.

“Relax your shoulders,” you murmured, stepping closer and running your hand along his broad trapezius muscles.

Your voice was warm and laced with patience as you looked into his eyes.

“Salsa isn’t just about the steps. It’s about how you feel the music.”

“I feel it,” replied Steve, swallowing as he watched your hips move effortlessly with the rhythm. You made it look easy, natural and beautiful. He, on the other hand, felt a little bit out of sync, out of breath, and out of his depth.

You took his hand, lacing your fingers through his, your palms pressing together and conducting electricity.

“Start with the basics,” you whispered, guiding him.

“One, two, three: back. Five, six, seven: forward.”

Steve looked down to catch the rhythm and you pulled his arm around you tighter, causing you two to meld even closer together.

“Don’t overthink it. Just listen to me.”

Steve nodded and looked into the kaleidoscope depths of your eyes.

And he listened.

He listened to the way your breath hitched as his hand slid to your waist.

And he noticed.

He noticed the way your eyes flickered to his lips when you moved together in sync, your bodies sinfully connected.

“That’s it,” you said, your voice lower now, “Now, feel me.”

You guided his hand to your lower back, and his fingers instinctively pulled you more firmly against him. This power from him made you high along with the way your body fit against his.

You moved in perfect harmony.

“Better,” you murmured as you watched his mouth again.

Steve was found himself smiling, his steps more fluid now, as if he’d been dancing with you forever. His confidence grew with each turn, each time your bodies came in contact.

And when you finally spun into him, your palm resting against his chest, your breaths mingling in the space between you, he knew this wasn’t just a dance.

It was his chance.

Steve was about to lean in to kiss you when a slow clap began, started by Sharon.

You both looked around, surprised there was anyone else there. The music had stopped.

“Great job, Mr. Rogers. You made that look convincing.”

Sharon’s voice grated on your nerves but you had to laugh at your cousin giving her the gas face. You just rolled your eyes. Not even she could bring you down at the moment.

“SOB’s opened early just for us, we have another hour to dance and have fun. I’d love to talk more if you all are inspired. Have fun!”

Steve stood back and admired you, his creative queen, as the others swarmed around you.

—-

The way you moved made Steve Rogers feverish.

The sway of your hips hypnotized him and he had to concentrate very much to appear unbothered. The smell of you made his cock thicken and gotdamn, when you laughed his stomach did flips.

He’d pay a million dollars to the first person who convinced you to kiss him.

He’d pay you ten million for each kiss you’d give him willingly.

Steve was down bad.

The nail in his coffin was your creativity and bravery; the way you shared your opinions on your art and everything else made him mad with desire.

He now fully understood Bucky’s insistence to get fully clean. Steve was glad they were so close to the finish line and was willing to beat Bucky there.

Steve was determined to be the good man you once thought he was.

—---

Over the next couple of days, your heart raced each time you watched Steve across whatever rooms you were in. His six foot plus form dominated every space and his natural affinity for art was so fucking appealing.

You finally admitted to yourself that you were feeling him, although the issue of whether you could trust him would not die. But when he looked at you with those baby blues, you got weak. There was definitely a connection and a chemistry that you couldn’t resist for much longer.

You couldn’t deny it any more.

But that didn’t stop you from trying.

—--

Sharon would not stop talking. You were unfortunate enough to sit near her on the Sprinter as it took you back to the hotel for the mid-day break on Wednesday. She was going on about her meeting with Steve to Lily from Montana.

Each recipient had meetings scheduled with Sam, Steve, Bucky and Natasha, another requirement of the week. Frequently, the meetings included a meal. It must have been a dizzying pace for them, but you’d really enjoyed your coffee with Sam and lunch with Natasha. They were cool people.

And of course your dinner with Bucky was amazing. You couldn’t wait for him to be your cousin, although he remained coy about proposing no matter how much you pressed him about the holiday trip.

“I mean my meeting with Steve was convenient this morning. He was right there and we were already in our comfortable clothing… the breakfast place was perfect…”

Your ears perked up at that.

“I just woke up so sore this morning. It’s all Steve’s fault…and then he had the nerve to do it again…”

Your mind filled in the gaps and your blood started to boil.

This must be why he hadn’t been around that morning. He was recovering from fucking with Sharon. Rational thought was out the window and you couldn’t see anything but red.

Instead of going up to your room to rest, you walked the four blocks to the Rebirth building.

Your spine was straight and your chin was up as you entered the gallery, passed Natasha and headed to Steve’s office. He came to stand at the door as you approached, obviously warned that you were coming. He was in shirtsleeves, his black button-down clinging to his muscular frame, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms.

You blinked because he looked dangerously, devastatingly handsome in a way that was almost too much to look at directly. His mesmerizing blue eyes locked with yours, and the rest of the world disappeared. For a moment, you were frozen, ready to fuck him or spring into battle.

Just then, Bucky Barnes bounded out of a door near Steve’s, looking like a black lab, and headed in the same direction you were.

“Yo, Steve. I think that we should… oh shit! Peach!”

You couldn’t help but smile at Bucky, who looked cute in a black pullover with his curly hair tousled. Over Thanksgiving weekend, you’d grown to like him a lot.

Bucky Barnes obviously loved his friends. He also was a good guy, despite his line of work. The way he loved your cousin had earned your respect.

You smiled and held your hand out for him to shake.

“Hullo Bunny… eep!”

He pulled you toward him, drawing you into a hug and twirling you out into a salsa spin, causing you to laugh.

“It’s Bucky, Mr. Barnes if you’re nasty!”

You were shaking with laughter.

“Oh gawd! Does my cousin know that you are so corny?”

Bucky had mellowed your harsh.

Momentarily.

“It’s part of why she keeps coming back, Peach.”

Bucky winked at you and instantly you understood the appeal. You grinned up at Bucky, lightly slapping him on the arm as he laughed at you.

Someone cleared their throat and Bucky smirked over at Steve. Then, he caught the drift.

“I can see that you have important business to attend to with this Punk. Catch you later.”

Suddenly you didn’t want to have this conversation, because the way Steve was looking at you was too intense. You didn’t move. You felt Bucky’s warm hands on your shoulders and you were compelled to move forward.

“Onward. Into the fray.”

You glared over your shoulder at Bucky and then looked back at Steve.

“Mr. Rogers.”

Steve’s jaw clenched and he greeted you in kind.

“Ms. Y/LN. Is there something I can help you with?”

He walked into his office and you followed him, making sure to leave the door open. Steve's gaze slowly dragged down your body and back up again until it settled on your mouth. You felt that look like a physical touch, making your clothes feel irrelevant. You took a deep breath to keep from shedding them right there.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers. I need you to be honest with me.”

Normally, that was a throwaway comment, but Steve knew how important him being honest was to you, so he nodded, cleared his throat and said, “Of course,” while looking you in those beautiful eyes.

“Did you fuck Sharon Carter last night?”

Steve’s eyes widened in shock. He blinked a few times to digest your question. Then he answered it. Blood rushed in his head.

I’m gonna kill the mutherfucker that said that, he thought. But he was calm when he replied.

“No. I was very much alone last night.”

Missing you, he thought.

“Did you fuck her this morning?”

Steve put his file down on his desk and leaned back on it, crossing his arms.

“Absolutely not. She showed up at my gym, for the second day in a row. I helped her with some technique and then had our meeting in a coffee shop. Who is spreading this rumor that’s got you so worked up?”

He would find the fucking liar and strangle them to death.

“That bitch is going around insinuating to everyone…”

Then you realized what was going on. You closed your mouth. Sharon.

That bitch. Why were you letting some hoe rag get to you?

“Never mind. You’re absolutely right. I don’t care.”

You raised your chin like the regal queen you were and Steve wanted to fall at your feet.

“Well for your information, I’m not interested in Sharon Carter. As a matter of fact…”

All I want is you.

Steve looked you in your eyes. God, you were so beautiful.

“I’m taken.”

Your breath caught in your throat and a feeling in between panic and jealousy furled in your stomach at those words. As he looked at you, understanding dawned about what he meant.

This conversation was not going the way you intended it to.

Your eyes moved to avoid Steve’s and it was then you noticed Bucky leaning on Steve’s door frame and snacking while he watched you two.

“Popcorn? Really Bucky???”

Bucky extended the bag to you.

“‘SmartPop. Want some?”

Steve went over and closed the door in Bucky’s face and then turned back to you. You noticed how his bicep bulged when he ran his hand through his hair and your nipples tightened into stiff peaks.

“Sorry to that woman.”

You played dumb, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue. But Steve clocked you. He shook his head and chuckled.

You crossed your arms and jutted your hip out.

“What?...What, Steven!?”

You were the most adorable human he’d ever seen.

“Nothing.”

You turned around to leave and then whirled around again.

“And another thing!”

Steve was smirking now.

“You upgraded me on the airline and at the hotel. Didn’t you? And you gave me more endowment than anyone else. You’re just trying to get in my pants again.”

Steve sighed.

“Okay, so first I fucked Sharon, now I’m trying to get in your pants. You’re going from one extreme to another.”

“Tell me I’m wrong!”

Steve clenched his jaw, but his voice remained even. He really wanted to grab you and spread you over his desk and give you his cock until you calmed down. But baby steps.

He stepped to you and you looking up at him was his Roman Empire.

“You. Are. Wrong.”

His glare was blue ice and you felt just a little bit afraid.

And a lot turned on.

“Do you realize that your cousin helped us out with travel and accommodations?”

You opened your mouth and then closed it.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t get more than anyone else. Russ received $250,000. Awards were scaled according to the project.”

“Ah.”

“And I don’t just want to get in your pants. I want so much more.”

You stood there dumbfounded.

“W-what are you talking about?”

Steve gave you a rueful smile.

“Stop pretending you don’t know. Peach, I–”

You raised your hand to signal stop.

“Ain't nobody got time for this.”

He gazed at you with a sparkle in his eye and licked those red, red lips. But he put his hands up and backed away, still smiling.

“Also. Stop doing that!”

You waved your hand in the direction of this face. You needed him to stop looking at you like that.

He was trying to hold himself back. Your lunacy had him hard. And you not letting him tell you how he felt made him want to make you beg for him. He shook his head to clear his lust.

“Just what am I doing to you, Ms. YLN?”

That voice again. Your eyes shuttered and your pussy pulsed at the answer to that question, but you were determined to get him told.

“Sparkling those eyes down at me like that!”

“Sparkling my eyes…?”

Steve feigned annoyance, but he was enjoying the fuck out of this.

“What does that even mean?”

“You know exactly what it means! Looking at me like.. Like.. like you…Just. Stop.”

He stopped smiling.

“As you wish.”

Steve’s eyes roamed over your face, pausing to look at your lips. Then, he looked back up into your eyes and the sparkle was gone. It was replaced by a warm blue fire that for some reason caused you to shiver. You wanted to fall into it and his arms, but you shook yourself out of it.

“Nope. Don’t do that either.”

Steve huffed as the corner of his mouth hooked upward into a sexy side grin. Your panties couldn’t take it.

“Do wh–? Umph. Ummhmmhhmm!”

You put your hand over Steve’s mouth to stop him from assaulting you with his voice but he kept vocalizing. You realized that Steve’s hand was on your waist and was pulling you closer to him.

Your breasts were pressed up against his rock hard torso and your hand was on his chest. Lord help you, all you needed to do was remove your hand. You stared into those blue depths for half a second and then moved back.

Steve licked his lips when your hand was gone and your body buzzed as he contemplated pulling you back into his arms.

When that look came into his eyes, you gave up.

“Ugh. Never mind. I’ve got to go.”

You straightened your spine again, turned on your heel and marched toward the door.

Steve followed you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that Bucky was pumping his fist as you made to leave the building. You thought about giving him a piece of your mind, but you had to get out of there; Steve was close behind.

“Peach. Stop running. Calm down.”

You stopped and whirled on him, poking your finger in his chest.

“NEVER tell a mad woman to calm down, Rogers.”

He smiled down at you and your world spun out.

“So you admit that you’re crazy?”

“Fuck you!”

You turned and walked toward your hotel at a steady pace but Steve was right behind you. He followed you back to your hotel lobby and was right there when you pressed the elevator button.

“What do you want, Steve?”

You sideyed him as you looked up at the floor indicator panel.

“You.”

You whipped your head around as the elevator doors opened. Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. But then you just wordlessly walked into the elevator as Steve followed closely.

“You feel this thing between us, Peach. I’m not alone in this. I know I’m not.”

He moved close to you as the elevator doors closed, placing one arm on the wall near your head and the other on the railing beside you. You were enveloped in him. But when you looked up at him. Jesus.

“You wish. You think you’re god’s gift to women, Rogers?”

Your whisper was fervent.Your heart was beating out of your chest and your cunt was soaking wet. The electricity was arcing between you in the small space. You felt it in the small of your back.

“Judging by the way you look at me, Peach. I’d say you wish, too.”

You shifted, trying to rub your legs together on the low. There was an ache you needed extinguished.

“Boy, please...”

You were still trying to fight it as Steve moved close, his lips a breath from your ear.

“Not all women. Just you. And you don’t need to beg. Just ask for what you want, Peach.”

He pulled back and you almost chased him, but bit your lip and tried to remain calm.

“I don’t want anything from you, Steven.”

“Now, you’re the liar.” Steve intoned, his jaw working tightly.

When the elevator door opened, you ran out, moving quickly down the hallway to your room. You stood in front of your door and stared at Steve, not opening the door and not speaking.

He looked down the hallway and spoke, anger laced in his tone.

“Open the fucking door and get your sweet ass in that room, Peach.”

You tried to stare him down, but he was determined. And something in those blue eyes made you want to comply.

“I’m not going to repeat myself.”

Your hands shook as you opened your door with Steve breathing down your neck, reminiscent of that night in Atlanta.

Once the door was closed, he stalked toward you, tipping up your chin to meet his intense gaze. His thumb brushed your bottom lip and you suppressed a shudder.

No one had ever made you feel this way with just a touch.

“What do you want from me?”

Your voice was barely a whisper.

Steve leaned in close to reply, his breath fanning your face.

“Stop fucking running from me. I apologize for all the things I’ve done. But now I’m underwater and I’m drowning in my feelings for you.”

Your resistance were just bare thread now. And the last ones frayed into nothing at his proximity.

“Prove it,” you said as you met his gaze.

Steve’s eyes glinted with something you couldn’t read, and his hand moved to your waist.

“Careful now, Peach,” he murmured and bent his head, still not quite kissing you, but driving you crazy.

“You don’t scare me,” you whispered.

“No?”

His hand was on your back now, moving you impossibly closer.

“I think that I do. I think the feelings you have for me terrify you.”

His lush lips crashed down on yours, and you were completely lost to the way he devoured you, all heat and hunger and lust. Your tongues tangled and danced, and you moaned into his mouth.

Steve broke away to nip down your jaw.

“Taste so fucking sweet, Peach. ‘S all I could think about this past month.”

His hands slid down your body to palm your ass, pulling you close and making you feel how hard he was for you. Damn he was big. He was right, you’d probably struggle to take him, but god you wanted to try right now.

Slowly, Steve lowered his head again, watching you intently as his lips capture yours. The kiss started off slow and delicious, then it deepened, growing more passionate, more demanding. Your fingers tangled in his thick hair, pulling him closer. And when you came up for air, you were both breathing hard. He leaned his forehead on yours.

“I want every single part of you, Peach,” he said roughly. “Not just your body.”

Your heart swelled. There was no more holding back now.

“D’you think you can… can you think about trusting me with your heart?”

You hesitated and he knew he needed to get you not to get back in your head. He settled into the large couch and pulled you into his lap. His hands on your body was like nothing else.

“You feel fucking amazing.”

Before he knew it, Steve wrapped a hand around your neck and pulled you down to his mouth. He nipped at your lower lip, then soothed the tender flesh with his tongue, leaving you a trembling mess.

He lifted his hand and ran a finger down the side of your neck; the touch was light but somehow burned.

“Tell me you don’t think about being mine?”

You only whimper in answer, your stubbornness still in control.

He shook his head as he leaned down and followed the trail of his finger with his lips.

It felt so good that you tilted your head to the side with a soft sigh, giving him better access. Steve took full advantage, trailing kisses back up to the sensitive spot behind your ear that made you shiver.

“Fuck, Steve.”

You hooked your leg around his waist and rolled your hips against his like he was a pole. You arched your back and attempted to ride him to get some satisfaction to your core, which was

aching and weeping.

“No. We’re not gonna fuck. Not until you tell me you’re mine. But we can play.”

He arched a dark blonde eyebrow as he kissed down your cleavage and one big hand cupped your breast over your shirt and the other reached down to slip inside your panties.

“You wanna play, Peach? You’re absolutely soaked Sweetheart. Want me to make you feel good?”

It was his one mission in life, and he could do it all day, bring you pleasure.

You pouted up at him, but you couldn’t resist. This high was too addictive.

“Yes, Stevie. Please. Make me feel good.”

He growled lowly when you arched into his touch. You felt the hard length of him pressing against your core, and you reached down to palm him through his pants.

“Fuck. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Suddenly, your bra was pulled down and his mouth was closing over your nipple, sucking and teasing. He moved lower, getting on his knees beside the couch.

He stopped manhandling you long enough to unbutton his shirt and damn, did you pay attention.

You bit your finger as those muscular shoulders and biceps and chest came into view. Your eyes followed the happy trail that flowed down his six pack and damn the bugle in his pants was big.

That shocked look on your face when you met his eyes again was so hot that Steve wanted to fucking ruin you, but he decided have settle for just tasting you.

“Don’t want you to get my shirt wet, Sweetheart.”

He winked and then reached underneath your skirt to find your panties.

You scrambled up on your hands and scoffed.

“It’s like that?”

Steve grabbed your thighs and pulled them apart, making your skirt ride up.

You leaned back and smiled as he winked and nodded.

He hiked your legs over his shoulders and a second later, his mouth was between them, his tongue teasing the skin near where you really wanted him to be.

You grabbed his hair and ground against his face, already desperate for more. And when he licked straight through the center of you, a scream started in your throat but you stifled it, looking down to see Steve’s eyes twinkle up at you.

He kept you pinned against the couch, gripping your hips with those big, strong hands and holding you in place. His tongue traveled up and down your slit, between your folds, and slid inside your wet cunt.

Your entire body trembled as his tongue toyed with your clit. You felt his smile as he started circling his tongue around the small bundle of nerves.

“Fuck! Give me more!”

Your eyes rolled as two of his long thick fingers entered you and scissored before quickly finding the pile of sensitive flesh inside you. He massaged it and at the same time leaned down to suck your clit into his mouth. It was at that point that your orgasm hit you like a wave.

“Steveeeee! Godddd!”

You screamed as your pussy simultaneously clenched and squirted fluid into Steve’s waiting mouth. Your vision went white, and all the air was sucked out of the room.

Slowly, your surroundings came back into focus. Steve kissed the inside of your thigh, then stood up, watching you with an intensity that made your heart stutter in your chest.

“The way you scream my name makes a man wanna buy you jewels Peach.”

His beard was wet and his voice was raspy, but you reached for him and he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste your essence on his tongue.

Then, he pulled away and found your bathroom. You stared at the ceiling as the water ran and you assumed he was cleaning up. He returned with his shirt on and a warm towel to help you clean up.

He watched as you shed your clothes, sensuality on display only for him. You reached for his pants and he grabbed your wrists, shaking his head.

“Like I said. That was fun. But you’ve got to make a decision, Peach. Do you want me like I want you?”

The words were right there in your throat, but they refused to come out.

You just stared at him.

Steve smiled at you ruefully.

“Okay. It’s all right. I’m not giving up. Just giving you space.”

He handed you the fluffy white robe that was in the bathroom and you put it on to follow him to the door of your suite.

“See you tomorrow after the Summit for our meeting.”

He kissed you goodbye on the cheek and the dance you and Steve Rogers did continued as you watched him walk away from you.

——-

Hope you liked it! Interaction gives me lifeeeeee! Read, comment, reblog, like. TIA 🥰

#steve rogers #Steve Rogers #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #Chris Evans #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mob boss!steve rogers #mob boss!Bucky Barnes #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #kyd ask #ask dj #peach fic #knock you down fic

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rawflwrs · 1 day ago

Note

Can you pls write some more about terry ?

▐ sugardaddy!terryrichmond ୫ camgirl!reader

summary: after a long day of spending daddy’s money, you both decide to end the night giving your viewers a show.

writer’s notes: I tried my best with this, although it was rushed, so it’s definitely not my best work. I apologise if you don’t like it! I’ve just been busy with assignments, so I’ve been distracted. I also added visuals this time, so let me know if you guys enjoy them and want me to add them in future smut fics. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy and don’t forget to like, comment & reblog </3 !!

warnings: explicit language, begging, pet names (daddy, princess, etc) overstimulation, dacryphilia, clit slapping, bimbofication, finger sucking, choking, spanking, age gap relationship and praising — bratty!sub!reader & dom!terry

tags: @luvrsluxe @gardenof-venus @theogbadbitch @fairygoround @nayaesworld @catxo @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @kenshisluvrgirl @bigjuiciisushii @todorokishoe24 @notapradagurl7 @writingsbytee

Terry knew you were high maintenance before he met you. The way your bedroom lit a soft shade of baby pink with gold and cheetah print accessories surrounding you, your nails and toes always freshly done, either in a sparkly baby pink or a basic french tip: you made sure you were put together. After all, all you did was dress up like a doll and men paid to witness it.

It was one of the few things Terry noticed about you. He never intended to come across you as he believed that watching porn or anything remotely related, wasn’t of any benefit to him, knowing that if he had any sexual needs, there were always a list of women who would be at his beck and call.

But before he knew it, Terry became one of your top contributors, starting off by sending you five thousand dollars in the first stream he joined and progressively adding another ten thousand for every stream after, just to hear you thank him as you pressed your toys into your glistening pink hole.

Terry loved the idea of spoiling a pretty girl like you, hearing your giggles as you repeatedly thanked him for sending you so many gifts or when you joked that you needed to see him in person to thank him properly: he knew that he needed you. When you had announced you were going to do private calls for your top contributors, Terry made sure he was number one on that list.

You were nervous. It was obvious that the person named ‘@/treatsfromterry’ was clearly obessessed with you and although you liked the idea of someone being so desperate for your attention that they would spend what felt like their lifesavings on you, you were also terrified that he would be some old creep.

You were so wrong. When a muscular caramel toned man, wearing thin rimmed glasses and a short sleeve black wife-beater popped onto your zoom call screen, you couldn’t believe your eyes. He was beautiful. You felt your mouth drop open slightly at the sight as his deep chuckle filled your ears. “You okay there, beautiful?” He questioned, fixing his camera position to ensure you can see him clearly. “Mhm” you trailed off, eyes lowering to his biceps. They were so big and soft: you wanted a bite.

“I need to hear you use your words, princess.” He sighed out, feeling himself harden at the sight of you wearing the lingerie he asked you to wear for this special occasion. “I’m fine, daddy. I just didn’t expect you to look so good.” You giggle, remembering that he asked you to only call him daddy. The name definitely fit the view you were seeing. “Thank you, baby. I appreciate you wearing that for me.” He smiled, motioning towards your lingerie.

You smiled. “I mean you spoil me so much, it’s the least I could do. Do I look pretty?” You moved closer to your laptop camera, purposely angling it to face your breasts as you slowly message them, circling your brown areole’s. “So fucking pretty, princess.” He groaned, the ache in his pants getting worse. You smiled, leaning back before thanking him again. “Is there anything specific you want me to do for you, daddy?” You asked.

Initially, Terry thought about asking you to masterbate on the call to watch you moan his name, but he realised that it would be better to see that in person. “No, I just want to ask you one question.” He leaned forward to look directly in your eyes. “Oh? Go ahead, but I’m just letting you know that if I feel uncomfortable, I won’t hesitate to block you.” You said softly, attempting to set your boundaries as clearly as possible.

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, princess. Tell me if I’m going too far, okay?” He assured you while you simply nodded.

“Outside of this-” he started, gesturing towards the camera, insinuating that he was referring to you being a cam girl. “What is your goal? What job do you aspire to have?” He questioned and it caught you off guard. It’s not usual that one of your viewers even care to ask about how your day was, never mind what your aspirations are. “I want to be rich.” You answered, earning a deep chuckle from him. “What?! I’m serious. I don’t aspire to work. I just want to make money and be happy.” You said truthfully. He found your answer fascinating because it wasn’t one he was used to hearing.

“What if I can be the one to make you rich and happy?” He asked, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip, patiently waiting for your response. “Wh-what do you mean?” You questioned, feeling your body warming up from the tension. Although, he was miles away from you, he made his presence very known. “I’m an investor. I like to invest into businesses I know will be profitable and successful for me-” He started, before you cut him off, “you invest into people too?” You asked. “Not people. . . Just you.” He adjusted his glasses.

“I want you to be my sugar baby.” The comment had you puzzled. It wasn’t like people had never asked you to be their sugar baby, but it wasn’t normal for someone of his calibre to openly ask. “That means I get to spoil you and all I ask for in return is your time and attention.” He continued. You were still silent, debating on whether it would be a good idea as you only started your cam girl services to fund for your college tuition fees, not because you wanted to have close ties to the lifestyle long term. “You can continue your streaming services if you think that’s something I wouldn’t want you doing anymore. I just want you. I want to feel you and be close to you. That’s all I ask for, sweetheart.” He said as you thought deeply about the advantages of being a sugar baby.

“How do I know you’re really rich? You could just be lying to me to get me to meet you.” You pestered. He laughed before pulling out his phone, tapping a few buttons and showing you the amount of money he had in his bank account. You audibly gasped which caused him to laugh harder at the thought of you questioning his wealth. “Does that answer your question?” He asked. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your sugar baby.” You replied almost immediately. “Good girl.” He smiled once more. And with that, your relationship with Terry began.

Who would’ve thought that a year later, you would be walking around Chanel with a 6 ft 3 man, spending his money on whatever you touched. I mean, you had been in the store for less than hour and he already spent over twenty thousand dollars. Terry sat in the corner of the store, tapping away at his phone to handle some business dealings while keeping a close eye on you, knowing you get lost when you’re not in the right mind. “Daddy, come look at this.” You asked softly as he held one finger at you to tell you to wait a moment. “Just give me a minute, sweetheart.” He replied.

You hated when he wasn’t paying attention to you, especially because you knew that whatever he was looking at wasn’t more important than you. “Why do I even bother.” You pouted, grabbing your bags and attempting to leave the store without a second thought. Terry immediately followed after you and paused your movements, noticing your demeanour shift. “I’m here, princess. I’m sorry, you know how work is right now.” He grabbed your chin for you to look up at him. “You said you wanted my time and attention, whole time, you’re too busy on your stupid fucking phone!” You barked back, attempting to walk away before feeling your arm get yanked back.

“Who the fuck you talking to like that? I’ll fuck you up in front of everybody.” He started. “Tread lightly. This bratty attitude ain’t cutting it for me.” He warned. Yes, Terry was a sweet man who was never aggressive with you unless you asked him to be, he still would never tolerate disrespect and recently you’ve been having more bratty outbursts than usual. At first, he thought you were simply hormonal, but as it became consistently worse, he became more agitated that you thought your behaviour was acceptable. “Whatever.” You storm back into the store, ignoring glares from the workers and continue your shopping.

It wasn’t long before you were laying across Terry’s lap on your stomach with your camera angled just so your viewers can see his chest, but not his face as he spanked you in the room he dedicated in his house as your filming room, covered in Sanrio themed accessories after you told him you loved them. “You can take it, princess.” He spanked your plush ass again, watching it slowly bruise up as the live gained more traction with people sending more gifts and reactions. “M’ sor-so sorry, daddy! Please!” You pleaded, feeling yourself start to lose your vision as you stained your cheeks with wet hot tears.

“But you look so pretty like this, mama. Don’t y’all agree?” He questioned, almost taunting the viewers as he landed another harsh slap. Your live stream was gaining more views by the minute, but all you could think about was how much you needed his touch. “Pl-pleasee, daddy. Touch me- I want it so bad.” You cried out. “I nee-ed you.” You breathed out. “That’s all you had to say, princess.” He lifted you to straddle him, facing you towards the camera as he spread your legs open for them to see. “Look at how wet you are.” He slapped your clit harshly, causing you to yelp and jump forward from the impact.

You covered your mouth with your hand as he continued to slap your clit four more times, chuckling after each slap. “Dadd-ah pleasee!” You squealed, knowing your body was giving up on you. Terry used his left hand to grab you by your throat, applying a little bit of pressure to assert dominance. “You know I don’t like brats. Why do you keep playing with me?” He whispered in your ear, rubbing your clit in a circular motion, slowly. “M’ sor-” you were cut off by him applying more pressure to your throat. “You’re sorry? Were you sorry when you embarrassed me today?” He questioned, his grip on your throat getting tighter as he fastened the pace of rubbing your clit.

You couldn’t even respond due to the pressure he had on your throat. Terry moved his left hand up into your mouth as you attempted to catch a breath. He stuck his two fingers in your mouth, watching you suck them softly. He almost forgot you were on your live stream until he heard a ping from your computer which indicated you had reached over fifty thousand viewers: a new milestone. “People like seeing me use you, princess. Should we do this more often?” He asked, pushing his fingers further down your throat while you simply nodded.

He pulled his fingers out your mouth, watching closely as a string of your saliva creeped out. You coughed at the feeling of your airways being free. “You’re my filthy little slut. Aren’t you, angel?” He teased, using both of his hands to rub your clit aggressively. You gripped onto his biceps, your face contorting from the mixed pleasure that you were receiving. Your pussy ached from the heat and you felt yourself losing consciousness. “Aww, you gonna pass out on daddy? But I’m only just getting started, baby.” He cooed. “You can take it.” He bit your shoulder.

The lewd sounds of your pussy squelching, your inconsistent moans and your sweat dripping from all parts of your body made viewers wish they were Terry right now. It was fucking disgusting. You practically losing yourself and he hadn’t even fucked you yet? You were pathetic. He slowed down his pace when he saw you squirting and your juices nearly hitting your laptop camera: truly cinematic.

He groaned at the feeling of his cock aching just from the sight. Terry knew when you started squirting like this, you weren’t far from cumming. “You close, bunny?” He teased as your legs trembled in response. “M’ c-close, pa!” You squirmed, closing your eyes shut while he rubbed you gently, still ensuring his touch was firm. You felt yourself slipping away into your own headspace as you knew you would cum any moment now. That was until, he moved his hands away from you, earning a loud whine.

“You think I’d let you cum after how you acted today? Nah, get on all fours.” He pushed you off him, causing you to fall to the ground. Your legs were still wobbly, but you knew better than to argue with him. After all, it was your mouth that got you in this position in the first place. You sat up on the bed, getting into his preferred position. “Stretch that ass out.” He ordered, watching you spread your ass hole open, ready for him to stuff your ass, whole.

You knew you were in for a long night.

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beomiracles · 2 days ago

Text

the way I read this two weeks ago and have yet to reblog... anyhow, cam already heard me absolutely CRASH OUT reading this on vc. but it's a lot more fun to host a public crash out too.

FIRST OFF ALL.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

second of all.

the UNIQUE concept is to fucking die for. the idea of vampires feeding off of other vampires is something I've never even thought about??! much less them becoming literally fucking soul bound after that.

You hadn't put your mouth on anyone since that night, not even when it felt as if you had been scooped out with a spoon, carved open, and laid bare from hunger. If it wasn't him you would have nobody.

PACK IT UP PACK IT UP. "If it wasn't him you would have nobody" YES YES YES. like I'm tearing my heart open and giving it to you rn just take me as I am.

Feeding from vampires was anything but a rush, that first mouthful was a wash of exhilaration. It made one dependent on each other, one taste and it was never the same.

mother of all things holy.

next, the way they were both yearning for each other. cam was yapping this nonsense about the smut feeling weird, BUT LET ME TELL YOU. the smut in this fic is absolutely DIVINE. it portrays the longing and the yearning in such an immaculate way I'm literally out of breath writing this rn. like just opening the fic back up to find my favourite parts has me in shambles, so you can imagine the out of body experience I had reading this.

You would never feel full again unless you had him back.

AH YES YESYYEYSYEYSYEYSWYE.

You still remember the sound his human heart made

see. i. I'M UNWELL. the way she remembers him even after DECADES passing. the longing of a vampire is so painfully beautiful I'm going to actually pass out on the floor may one of you guys come pick me up again once I've had a moment to collect myself.

AND WHEN SHE SEES HIM AGAIN --- It wasn't the butterflies of newfound love but sickening maggots wriggling in your stomach.

cam I'm going to actually bend you over.

But he was wrong, he hadn't known how full the world felt, how full he was after one drop of love from you. And now he was empty, starved clean from his own doing. “I was ashamed,” The confession was so quiet matching your question, “And now?” Beomgyu looked up from under his lashes, he was close enough now that your scent was suffocating him, begging him to give in and just sink his teeth right over your heart. Find the same place they had last been because no one had been able to tempt him to even pull his fangs down, not since you. “And now I'm starving,”

AND NOW IM STARVING BITCH COME HERE IM GOING TO GIVE YOU MY BODY MIND AND SOUL FOR BREAKFAST DINNER AND LUNCH.

“Now look at this,” you can feel the pad of his thumb running over the bite mark scars he's left on your inner thigh, his grin wicked enough to make your knees twitch. “I wonder if your pretty cunt will remember me as well as your skin has,”

im so normal about this paragraph its insane lol.

everyone shut up and read this part:

Beomgyu whines, breath quickening as he shoves in the last few inches. He lets his body fall onto yours, needing to be closer, needing to drag his lips over your neck, teeth scratching at your pulse, “say it again, tell me how much you hate me,” But he knows you can hardly speak, your legs wrapping around him, arms pulling him down closer. “Shut up,” you gasp, his hips rolling against yours. “then beg me,” he doesn’t even have to say for what. Not when your neck is rolling back to give him better access to your vein, his lips brushing against your skin with each word. “If you don’t hate me, beg me to taste you. I know you remember how much I love to mix the flavor of your blood with your cum still in my mouth,”

I want to declare a moment of silence. for my sanity, for my pride and the person I have become after being bestowed such an honour of a fic. I want to lick every part of cam until there's nothing left of her and I want everyone who I've never came in contact with to have read this fic at least once in their entire life to get at least some use out of it.

this fic is my favourite ever.

bitten

beomgyu x fem!reader

synopsis: it’s been a century since the last youve seen him, why come back now?

warnings: 🔞!!! vampire!beomgyu, vampire!reader, mentions of blood, blood drinking, biting, angst, mentions of a break up,mentions of bite mark scars, a bit of soulmate trope, oral (f!rec), no protection,mentions of subspace, creampie, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 3.8k (now this flung the 2k limit out the window )

an: thank you for the request! I hope that this captured the essence of the request because vamp!gyu was consuming my thoughts after I read those lines. I love vampire fics and im so sad I don't have more on my page already and this was the perfect time to add one. not proofread im so sorry my sweet angel darlings have mercy on me and forgive me of any mistakes found.

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

The bar was dark enough to keep the bruised necks and wrists of the occasional lost traveler hidden. Spots of blood dripped onto crisp white shirts scenting the air in coppery sweetness. It was a sickening smell to those who didn't need to feed, the alcohol keeping the rest of the occupants held over enough to ignore the twinge.

You didn't come to places like this often, the back room filled with half-drunk vampires and humans, desperately grasping at each other as they took from one another. Even the drinks didn't call to you, not when he wasn't standing there behind the bar passing them to you, constantly working his eyes up your body like a desperate plea to have even a taste. He hadn't been turned then, not when you first met. The pull towards you always accounted for the fact you were tainted with blood lust. A moth to a flame, he felt that pull, your hunger enough to send him right into the fire without even glancing at him.

It wasn't often that a human found themselves offering their bodies up to vampires. Most of them felt the hair rise on the back of their necks, the prickling of fear telling them that whoever was standing just round the corner was a wolf in perfectly tailored sheeps clothing, how tight that human look held onto you after your change. The uncanny glow seeping that poisonous warning off in waves, a trap waiting for the truly reckless to trip.

The ones who wandered closer instead of away always found themselves in the back of bars like this, bruised and hazy eyed laying in beds done up in silk and candlelight. Beomgyu, although working behind the bar for years knew never to offer himself up to the ones who sunk his stomach, that warning to run ringing in his ears as he slid a drink across the hardwood. But you, the second the door had pushed open and your skin washed in that low down glow, tripped him up; your waiting trap snapping shut around him like a rib cage around fluttering lungs. Even the echo of fading hoof beats on stone sounded so close to the beating of his heart that he couldn't tell the difference between flight and flush.

But that had been years ago, so many that you couldn't even remember the shade of his irises. You remember they were brown, staring up at ceilings casing empty houses trying and failing to conger up the image. Well over a century's worth of time to hate yourself for forgetting the one thing that drew you in at first glance. But it wasn't as if you didn't try to work your way through the fading memories of him, all flickering by like the passing pages of a notebook you forgot you wrote and held so dearly. All you could see was that empty bed, the sugary taste of his blood still on your tongue, your breast still tender from where he bit you over your heart, so hard the soft outline of his teeth, like a stain you desperately wanted to rid yourself of.

You had come here, back to this bar only three times after he had left to check in. That night with tears in your eyes, heart crumbling, the second taehyun had confessed that beomgyu was gone, packed up with only a shrugged goodbye. “He said he doesn't know when he will be back,”

You had waited ten years to return the next time, so little time when you counted decades like snowflakes, not the glass shattering hail you assumed beomgyu would have still thought of as a recently turned fledgling. But no one had seen him, heard from him, hardly even thought of him. But he plagued you, ran around your head until you could taste the blood coming from overworked joints.

The third time was no better, not when you entered and Taehyun shook his head, apologizing for a friend he wouldn't recognize anymore.

You had given up, moved away, and swore to never think about beomgyu and his puppy stare. That follow you everywhere look that seeped into your bones and begged you to never turn away from him. Only now you were back, sitting in the far corner you fell in love, sinking into the leather seat wishing you could have that first glance back.

Taehyun felt pity when he saw you, knew that you had been locked away in some house countries away, only sending in orders for blood long since cold. He poured you a glass, the same drink you asked for with tears in your eyes that first night back alone, chugging so many of them back he's sure your blood tasted of fire, too sour, burning all the way down one's throat.

“Thank you,” neither of you wanted to bring Beomgyu up but he was the first thing on both of your minds.

“He hasn't-”

“I don't care,” you tossed back your drink, the ripples of mixed in blood making your fangs tingle, ready to push through soft gums and piece flesh not yet provided. It's why you came. Tired of the empty flavored pints of blood brought to you by Soobin and his sorry eyes. You hadn't put your mouth on anyone since that night, not even when it felt as if you had been scooped out with a spoon, carved open, and laid bare from hunger. If it wasn't him you would have nobody.

But that declaration was a century ago, so many cold cups later it was tiring to swallow another. “I want a girl, preferably quiet, business only,” Taehyun nodded to your order, already knowing the best pick.

“Room 615, she can be brought back in about thirty minutes,” there was no room for judgment, not after the years of working behind this counter, sneaking into those beds just like everyone else had. But he knew what it took from someone who hated to drink from a vein, it's why they had the services, those who couldn't go out and find someone or someones to keep up a constant full belly.

But human blood wasn't the same as drinking from a vampire, humans went out too quickly, blinking back their faintness, never able to take more than a few deep pulls before they were at capacity. Feeding from vampires was anything but a rush, that first mouthful was a wash of exhilaration. It made one dependent on each other, one taste and it was never the same. Taehyun could tell Beomgyu and you drank from each other. Could see it in the years after, the way you turned your nose up even at the bitter drink in your glass.

You would never feel full again unless you had him back.

Thirty minutes was enough time to go home and call soobin for a late night order. But your hunger was clawing up your throat, nails on a chalkboard begging for anything else. Having the time to think, sitting here, filled your mouth with the memory of him. Not just the taste of his blood but the faint drum of his turned heartbeat. You still remember the sound his human heart made. The way it pattered at the sight of you, that irregular beat speeding up every time you sat down in front of him, entered through the cherrywood door.

How even after you had turned him his heart still acted as if it was tied to your presence, fluttering weakly even if it was all it could muster.

It was that sound that made you turn, conjured up from memory only now to show up right behind you. Taehyun was frozen, face pale at the sight of his lost friend. He had only seen him once or twice after he had been turned but now he was no half human fledgling.

Beomgyu and you were caught in a web of your own disastrous weaving, stuck in place witnessing the crumbling of love because seeing him only settled the grievances you held into stone.

He wasn't hollow like you were, empty from the time left alone, the bloodlust having fully settled over his skin making him shine in that uncanny beauty. Everything about his gentle human features has been frozen in place, the warmth in his brown eyes only enhanced in the light. How sickening to have to now face the reality of what you had done to him, what he must have run from once he realized he couldn't truly love the monster who infected him.

It wasn't the butterflies of newfound love but sickening maggots wriggling in your stomach. You stumbled as you stood, not even worrying about the key taehyun had left for you next to your drink, not even a meal could keep you from running as far as you could.

It had been too long for him to come back when you had given up on trying to wait for him. How many nights had been spent waiting for this exact moment? Only now for you to run away. How cruel fate could be.

He was calling your name, that twinge of hurt mixed in with something close to pity, every syllable weaved through with the words, no, don't do this, don't make me feel sorry. Even his voice made you waver, the back and forth shake of your head confusing you as you walked down the wrong hallway.

Even through the doors, you could smell the blood from the occupants behind them, like overripe fruit left to sit on the counter, nothing smelled the same after one drop from him. And now with Beomgyu right behind you, weak heartbeat still mimicking that first sight, it was impossible not to pinpoint the smell of him. Wrapping around you like fog; a haze you tried desperately to claw your way out of but you knew it was no use. You had never felt so hungry until then, carved clean through with the need.

“Please, let me explain,” he tried, grasping at straws. He didn't intend to see you first, only planned on catching up with Taehyun and apologizing for leaving him behind without answers. Save this conversation for when he built up the courage. “Please,”

His fingertips only brushed your arm, the shock of it going right down to your toes. It was instinct to turn and slap his hand away, and even in your exasperated exhale, that first acknowledgment was enough to make Beomgyu weak again, as if he had ever been anything but when attached to you. “What is there to explain? You left, you left me there, alone in our bed,”

“I-” The words were stuck in his mouth, hanging right at the edge of his tongue and yet all that came up was a frustrated laugh, “well did you miss me?” even just hearing his own words he could tell you would fume.

“Did I mi- you left me! You fucking left me, if anything now I just hate you,”

It was so easy to fall back into it with you, as if you had woken up alone a few days ago not centuries, “look what you did to me. What I've become, don't act as if you're so innocent in this, don't blame me for decisions we both made,”

The words felt like a slap in the face. That night you had turned him so clear in your mind, the way he had begged, the way he had burned. It was one of the hardest things you had ever done, most vampires went their whole lifetime without infecting anyone because of how hard it was to complete and yet you had.

“I turned you after you asked me. Do you know how much it takes? And then like some love-sick fool, I drank from you and every day I think about how stupid I was to believe you would stay. After I left behind everything I knew just so that I could have some human boy stay with me. How pathetic,” the last word was thick, sticking to your throat and pulling your tears forward. “You should go back to wherever you ran away to, climb into some feeders bed to keep warm for all I care,”

You turned, ready to close the door on a life you wished you had. The one you begged for after nights spent alone clinging to the sheets that still smelled of him. But Beomgyu wouldn't have it, his grip tight on your wrist as he pulled you back, “It was never about changing me, I left because I wanted to know if it was real- that intensity was so…consuming, I was scared and so I ran. I ran and I looked for some way to replicate it because I'm a fucking fool who can't see right in front of himself. You made me addicted to you, I begged you to do this to me and yet I ran. Im sorry,”

“You can say that but you stayed away so long I'm sure you found some poor soul to swallow down by the mouthful,” he could feel your resentment coiling around him, snapping back at his desperate attempt to explain. Because there was no way for him to get the words out, even after running them around his head for the years he had lost all because of his own fear.

That night was stuck right behind his eyelids, replaying over and over. Your body pressed to his, soundlessly sleeping as he looked up at your shared canopy bed. Your blood was still singing through his body, staining his perception of life before you. He didn't know he could be so utterly infected by someone so much so that it colored his sky differently. Your soft breathing was enough to tear him apart, he wanted countless nights spent exactly like that one, just watching you, listening to you sleep. And it scared him. He thought humans had been over-emotional, feeling things as they came, wallowing in them because they had little time to let it spread out. But he was wrong, he hadn't known how full the world felt, how full he was after one drop of love from you. And now he was empty, starved clean from his own doing. “I was ashamed,”

The confession was so quiet matching your question, “And now?”

Beomgyu looked up from under his lashes, he was close enough now that your scent was suffocating him, begging him to give in and just sink his teeth right over your heart. Find the same place they had last been because no one had been able to tempt him to even pull his fangs down, not since you. “And now I'm starving,”

Even just the word from his mouth made your fangs ache. You had been getting by on so little for so long. He was the only thing your body needed and you knew he must feel the same. Your mouth was filled with saliva, that venom that numbed prey or set them ablaze. You tried to swallow but you could already taste him, the movement of your throat making his eyes zero in on your pulse. You were no better watching his adam’s apple bob, connecting the dots on long since gone trails of hickeys you’d left before.

Neither of you knew who moved first, moaning against lips you were sure you’d never kiss again. His sweet venom singing on your tongue. His hands were heavy on your body, pulling you closer as he pushed you against the hallway wall. He wanted to melt into you, his desperation crawling up his skin, hips keeping you in place.

You chuckled into his mouth, the sound rattling in the back of his throat like a prayer he wanted to keep to himself. “You always did get hard from kissing,” his whimper in response is followed by the grind of his bulge against you. How fast his body reacted to your touch didn’t change when he did.

His heart was picking up speed, your fingers running through his hair, the groves of your fingertips slotting back into place amongst the strands. Beomgyu’s fangs were already elongating, nipping your bottom lip. He had always felt so good about his self-control, accounting those early days of overfeeding on you for the simple fact of being so recently changed, he should have known you were the variable that cracked the hold he had on himself. It was only worse now that he'd nicked you enough to mix blood into the kiss, his throaty moan rumbling against your body, sinking into your soul.

You're both stumbling to find a room, twisting knobs until you find an empty one. The silk bed envelops the both of you as you fall into it, peeling off layers of clothes. Beomgyu can smell your sweet arousal between your legs the second he's pushed them apart to kneel between.

“You're impossible to forget,” and when you expected him to bite you, following the pattern of his usual ravishing but he skipped it, shocking you with his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking deeply.

His mouth is on a direct line to your spine, your back arching off the bed. His tongue is hot on you, tracing the lines of your folds, and moaning into your slick. He missed these desperate whines you let slip, the perfect backtrack to the messy slurping sounds he's started. You hadn't even realized how much you had missed his mouth, your fingers twisting into his hair the second he brushed a fang against your swollen bud. He loved to tease but it had been too long since you felt your orgasm rise so fast.

Beomgyu was eating you like he missed your pussy, your stomach tightening, hips sinking into the sheets. It only takes a few more precise sucks with his puffy lips before your toes are curling, eyes rolling back as you cum for him. His chuckle vibrates against you before he pulls away, chin shining with your wetness. “I missed the taste of you,”

He hasn't even tried to find someone else to take care of his needs, not when he knew no other cunt could compare to the way yours perfectly molded to him, sucking him in to the hilt. The memory alone is what had him rushing to get inside of you, cock already leaking rivets of precum.

You've never felt so needy in your life, fangs and pussy aching for him. The drag of his tip from your clit to your weeping entrance makes your knees fall open. One of his hands guides himself to push into you and the other tenderly holds your hip in place. Your mouth drops open at the stretch, slow as he lets you take in the feeling, needing you to remember how full he kept you.

But he knows you can hardly speak, your legs wrapping around him, arms pulling him down closer. “Shut up,” you gasp, his hips rolling against yours.

“then beg me,” he doesn’t even have to say for what. Not when your neck is rolling back to give him better access to your vein, his lips brushing against your skin with each word. “If you don’t hate me, beg me to taste you. I know you remember how much I love to mix the flavor of your blood with your cum still in my mouth,”

As many times as he's crossed your mind, thinking about his fangs in your neck was something that would never compare to the moment they finally sunk in. You had never let anyone feed from you, not until he was there in front of you pleading. You were no better, not after you had changed him, needing to drain him of almost everything. But with one nod he was biting you.

Beomgyu’s mouth was flooded with your blood, the familiar flavor of iron mixed with the undercurrent of sweet delicacy. He’d dream about the first bite, mouth tingling, fangs brought forward on nothing but the memory of you. Now he was ravenous, so shocked by his own hunger with its pounding fists on nailed shut doors. His hips stuttered in his thrusting, caught on the ecstasy of quenched starvation.

You felt your mind slip into that hazy space, anything he asked would be answered, every action would be taken, and all you knew was him and him alone. To have that numbing venom injected into your bloodstream was enough to break even the strongest down into puddles of simmering whimpers.

It was hard to pull away and keep himself from overfeeding like he wished he could. But he felt his orgasm cresting, stomach flexing as his balls tightened. Beomgyu shoved his wrist to your waiting lips, your fangs stinging as they pierced his weak flesh. You drank deeply, thick swallows of the ichor you had prayed to get back on your tongue.

Everything was crashing down around you, beomgyu groaning as you clenched around him, fluttering walls sucking him in as you came, taking everything he had to give. He was a mess of moans, clinging to you as if that could keep him grounded when he felt this good. Every slow shallow thrust only pushes his cum further into you, still being pulled from him with every pulse of your greedy pussy.

Neither of you can believe how lost you had become, falling into each other like stars crashing into nothing but pooling darkness, so full of energy the only option was to collapse. And it's just what you did, twisting into each other's hold, beomgyu’s kisses pressed over the puncture marks he's made on you, nose brushing up and down your skin trying to keep your scent close.

Breathing evening you fought back the worry settling in. He had left before, walked right out the door without you knowing anything wrong had been on his mind, what was keeping him from doing it all over again?

“Stop thinking,” he muttered, mouth finding yours, mixing the flavors of your blood together as he kissed you. “I don't think I could find it in myself to ever leave again,” but he was pulling away, his playful smirk lingering on his lip cleansing your worrying mind if even for a movement. “How could I ever leave again after seeing how happy and full you are after only one round?” he pulled his still hard cock from you, the gush of cum slipping out, pooling on his ready fingers only to shove them right back into your waiting cunt. “No, nothing could keep me from this sight ever again,”

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#anyhow #todays crash out is over #I am now reset to normal for the next 12 hours or so

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