#*quietly lies face down on the floor*

[vrystalius]

GI-HUN / PLAYER 456 YOUR YANDERE.

What will happen if the previous winner of the games falls utterly and sickly inlove with you?

Pairing: Gi-hun x fem!reader (x In-ho)

Warnings: non-con themes, gaslighting, unhealthy obsessions, stalker-ish behaviour, sexual/perverse fantasies, slight somnophilia if you squint, groping, violent fantasies, barely read-proof.

Summary, Gi-hun as your yandere: Falling for you, his yandere profile (with nsfw), his jealousy of In-ho

Words in total: 3.4k

In-ho’s yandere profile over here!

Introduction.

Gi-hun is incredibly careful ever since the horrific death games he witnessed and survived. Paranoia followed him everywhere, the feeling of being utterly useless crept more and more to his head as another year passes by without any useable evidence or clues that brought him even a little closer to the people controlling and allowing these games and the dread that tried to lure him into simply giving up.

As he finally managed to join the games once more in firm belief that his hired team of investigators/hitmen and Jun-ho can track his exact location before his hopes were shattered for one another time as he discovered the missing chip in his tooth.

He spotted you for the first time during the Red Light Green Light game. As Gi-hun yelled instructions on when to move and when to freeze, his eyes found your precious face.

You were horrified, that was obvious. Your eyes were darting around in panic as more and more people were shot and bodies hit the floor, your hands shaking slightly despite your best effort to hold them still after seeing a woman get eliminated for having trembling hands, a strangers blood splattered over your face and tears threatening to run down your soft cheeks.

Gi-hun’s voice faltered for a moment. Glancing around and noticing that most people were over the finish line already, he rushed over to your side as quickly as he can and hooked your arm in his, practically dragging across the large hall to force you to move. Instinctively, you clung onto this stranger as he was guiding as carefully as he can to survival.

He released a deep breath he never knew he was holding as he gently lowered your shaking onto the dirt below. Seeing you cower and bow at his feet and thanking him over and over for saving him stirred something inside of him he hasn’t felt in years.

What exactly it was, Gi-hun doesn’t really know.

“You can get up, it was nothing. I am glad you are safe now.”

Yandere profile (SFW part).

- Overcompensating Generosity -

Gi-hun shares every single meal be gets with you. If you ever refuse or kindly decline his offer so he can have more for himself, he will come up with lies about allergies or feeling sick so that you can have even more. He worries that you might be malnourished or don’t have enough energy to live through and survive the next round of games.

He quietly stalks you from the side and makes sure you eat and drink everything up. If you ever complain about being full and sharing a little with Dae-ho or Jun-hee, Gi-hun will gently scold you for not eating properly, almost like a father would in a way.

His hand would ruffle your hair slightly in frustration. The kimbab he gave you was intended to be eaten by you, not… Dae-ho. No matter how much you grew fond of him. But your kindess and compassion to share does put a small smile to his face, even if it frustrates him.

“You shouldn’t be careless. Think about yourself first. Stop sharing your food with others.”

He completely contradicts his own actions by scolding you for offering Jung-hee or Dae-ho some of your share by giving you his own food.

Gi-hun doesn’t only share food but his clothes as well. If yours ever get bloody or if he catches you shiver just once, expect his jacket to immediately be wrapped around your shoulders or offered to you to wear it instead of your bloody one. He did consider giving you his t-shirt and going without one more than once after seeing your face scrunch up in disgust at the sight of someone’s blood on your shirt.

He wants and will do everything in his power to keep that frown of your face. Your smile lights up the whole bunkbed-hall and gives one more reason to keep going. It may sound depressing, but you gave him a reason to live and fight for survival. Even if you don’t know about it yet. He planned on leaving the rest of the money he had for his child and ending his life after the games. What other reason does he have to live for anyway?

Now he has. You are his reason to live. Gi-hun can provide for you, care for you, love , protect and worship you with every cell in his body, if you let him or not, he will find a way to fulfil his new purpose in life and Gi-hun will make you enjoy it.

- Persistent attention -

He is watching you every minute, every hour, every day and all day. Gi-hun insists on taking watch during the night and shooing Jung-bae off just so he can have a moment to himself to watch your adorable sleeping face. He takes mental notes on your sleepy expression, your soft pout, squished cheek as you lay on your side, your hair perfectly falling into place and how your chest was perfectly squished by the mattress or just lift up and down when laying on your back, synchronised with your breathing.

His fingers briefly brushed over your forehead to push some loose strands from your eyes so he can admire you further, a soft smile resting on his face. Watching you and knowing that you are safe brings makes his heart race a little slower when around you. One less thing to worry about.

For some reason, Gi-hun knows more about you than you do yourself. He can predict when you need to use the bathroom by watching what and when you drink. He knows your sleeping schedule and your favourite position to lay in. He knows what food you prefer despite barely mentioning it. He knows what to say to make you smile, his favourite expression on you, and how to comfort you when you are scared. Gi-hun also constantly “helps” you in a way that includes physical touch.

He might close your zipper up, his fingers briefly brushing over your chest, or tucking you into your bunkbed as if you were a child needing constant care.

Even if it may seem sweet from time to time, it does feel incredibly overbearing and annoying when Gi-hun goes ahead and “helps” you with eating food as if you’re not capable doing so yourself (embarrassing you in front of the others during the process) or offering you to go to the bathroom with you for protection, waiting outside with the guard while you did your business.

Somehow, even the stationed guard felt creeped out by him.

⁎⁺˳ — A mini scenario starts here. —

You were afraid to fall asleep at night despite Gi-hun assuring you that he will keep watch at all times. Your eyes were tired and heavy but your mind just couldn’t relax, couldn’t rest. No matter how hard you tried your own body forced you awake, believing that you are in immediate danger.

Paranoia kept swirling inside your mind as your eyes floated around the room. Did that shadow in the corner just move? Or was your exhaustion finally catching up with you?

“Hey.” Gi-hun’s voice ripped you out of trance like state as you flinched violently in surprise. His heavy hand carefully brushed over your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you as it rubbed back and forth slowly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The soft red light of the X marking on the floor illuminated his face to the point where you could read his soft expression. Worry was etched into his face. “Can’t sleep?” His voice was mich quieter now, trying to provide a little more comfort. His hand slowly made its way down to your waist as it began rubbing gentle circles there. You slowly nodded your head as you shifted your position to carefully shake his hand off.

You rolled over onto your back and Gi-hun smiled slightly. His fingers brushed some hair strands out of your face, briefly brushing over your soft cheek to savour your warmth a little more.

“Let me…” Without asking, Gi-hun suddenly gently scooted you aside to make space for himself as he crawled into your bunk bed, wrapping his arms around your smaller body. His hand began running through your hair, untying knots and feeling their softness. You uncomfortably shifted under him. “I-I can sleep on my own—“ “It’s okay, I’ll stay here.”

His voice left little space for arguments, just as much as his arms did. They were tightly wrapped around your back and waist, pressing you so firmly against his body that you could swear he was trying to absorb you. His nose brushed over the top of your head briefly, nuzzling into your hair.

“Close your eyes, I’ll keep you safe.”

⁎⁺˳ — End of the mini scenario here. —

If you ever try to tell him about how uncomfortable it makes you when he keeps on treating you like you’re incapable of being independent and thinking/acting on your own. Gi-hun first on denies being so overbearing with you and insists that it’s all you’re exaggerating, mistaking his simple kindness for whatever you’re talking about.

“Why are you so unreasonable? I’m trying to help you stay alive in these games. Don’t you want to survive and go back home? Let me take care of this, of you. You’ll die without me.”

- Idealisation -

Gi-hun put you on a pedestal the moment you came into his life. To him, you embody perfection, kindness, beauty, patience… Everything good in the world. Whoever dares to taint your image just the slightest earns themselves a night visit by Gi-hun himself to force their eyes away from you (and everything else) forever.

He’ll downplay or outright ignore all your “bad” or “negative” traits, fully believing that you could never do or feel wrong. Even your tears, your anger, your fear makes him feel absolute euphoria since you blessed him with the opportunity to witness your emotions on full display.

He sees you as his saviour and the one who will cure all of his illnesses, mental and physical. You fill the void in the man’s heart and he believes, no, knows, that you will bring Gi-hun everything he ever longer for; happiness, stability, protection, hope, absolute love and eternal devotion.

He fantasises every hour about having a perfect future with you together; a rural house somewhere quiet and peaceful, a child or maybe children (wether you want them or not), worshipping the ground you walk on everyday and come home with a new bouquet of flowers whenever he returns from grocery shopping. A fulfilling family life.

If you ever voice something that would go against his fantasies and imagination, for example that you don’t even want to marry him, Gi-hun will become visibly depressed and deflated, going as far as stopping to eat until you comfort him and shower him in attention, encouraging his fantasies once more.

- NSFW -

Gi-hun cannot control his own body anymore to the point of constantly finding his hard on pressing against the damn pants of the track suit uniform. Concealing it is hard so he either uses your pillow to cover it up and letting it rest on his lap until it finally calms and goes down or he sneaks off to the bathrooms, basically pleading with the guard to let him use the men’s room in the middle of the night.

During masturbation, you are again the only thing on his mind. He teases himself my cupping himself by the base harshly, makes himself whimper broken parts or your name by brushing his thumb over his leaving tip and drown himself in the fantasy that you are right there, with him, your hand on his cock and furiously jerking him off while the lewd Schlick Schlick Schlick sounds echo through the bathroom.

He also likes using your belongings and things to pleasure himself. Your pillow, for example. Gi-hun secretly swapped it out with yours while you weren’t looking and now has it pressed between his thighs tightly during the night when everyone is asleep, pathetically grinding onto it, thinking about where exactly he went wrong again and again as thought of your soft lips leaving burning kisses all over his body, your soft voice whispering encouragements and praises into his ear before switching around and calling him your obedient slut as you edge him over and over.

Gi-bun bites down onto the thin blanket to muffle his pathetic whines as he coats the inside of his boxers with sprays of his warm cum, his head falling back and his eyes tightly shut, not ready to leave his fantasy just yet and open his eyes to find himself back in the damn death games. He cuddles onto the thin of his blanket as if it were you lying right beside him, comforting him after such a rough and unforgiving session of imaginary praise, edging and your soft coos.

He does get more and more perverted and rather desperate at times when his fantasies aren’t enough anymore. Gi-hun lets his hand “accidentally” brush over your backside before profusely apologising over for his honest mistake. You forgive him and wave it off of course. Your forgiveness and the way you wave it off so quickly pushes Gi-hun to go further, do more, *feel* more. His hand frequently brushed over your backside, his palms gently pat on top your chest after zipping your jacket close, his fingers briefly brushing over your soft thighs while you slept, lingering close to your core but never daring to outright touch it. Yet.

When it comes to thought of sex with, Gi-hun gets all shy when even thinking about doing it with you. He isn’t the youngest and his stamina is not the best either. It was a long, long time since he felt anyone else be wrapped around his cock than his own fist working up and down so what if he forgets what to do? What if you’ll be disappointed? What if you become disgusted by him and leave him forever? He doesn’t want to think of that so he finds himself content with just finishing inside his boxers, hand and all over your pillow.

Gi-hun gets incredibly ashamed of himself after cumming to the fantasy of you being there with him, encouraging him. He beats himself up over being so utterly in love with you, such a perfect, young woman. You would never love a middle aged man like him, he is sure of it. He knows he has to somehow make you love him, at least just a little. Make you learn to love him, accept his care, teach you how to pleasure him properly, keep you all to himself and shut you away from the world, all the perverts and men that ogle you when you simply exist.

The world is too cruel, too corrupted, too perverted for a naive thing like you.

- NSFW ends here -

Gihun’s jealousy.

The moment In-ho joined his little alliance group he immediately felt inferior to him. He is intelligent, charismatic, dependable, kind. Everything Gi-hun barely ever is. It’s no wonder you got so attached to someone like him, the way your eyes sparkle when In-ho begins to talk or explain something, how fascinated you looked after he put Thanos in his place by demonstrating his strength, how you complimented his kindness after he gave his milk carton to Jun-hee. It makes him feel sick and incredibly angry at his friend for seemingly no reason other than existing near you.

Gi-hun slouches in his seat and fiddles with his fingers as he watches you have some small-talk with In-ho during breakfast. He’ll compare himself to In-ho in every way he possibly can, from his appearance to behaviour and actions.

Gi-hun watches him closely and tries to study his gestures and the way he presents himself, subconsciously mimicking everything his does in hopes to appeal to you even more.

He’ll start over analysing every single, every small interaction between you, imagining and spiralling himself into dark thoughts. He somehow fully convinced himself that by you clinging onto In-ho during the six-legged game means that you are in love with him and will end up marrying him after the games (despite the fact that you held onto your life on Dae-ho and In-ho’s shoulders, scared you’ll trip. But Gi-hun is just focused on your touch with In-ho).

Gi-hun becomes much more irrational as he keeps switching back and forth between showering you in love and affection and accusing you with trying to sleep with In-ho. One moment he is happily sharing his meal with you, admiring your hamster-like cheeks as you chewed on the food he shared with you before passively-aggressively interrogating you about why you even looked at the other man.

“You and In-ho seem to get along really well. What’s going on between you two? Are you trying to seduce him?”

It rarely happens but Gi-hun does explode out of rage sometimes, mostly when you two are alone and after letting his chronic jealousy get suppressed. He’ll scream and yell, vividly gesturing around, accusing you of everything you can be possibly accused of; having sex with him, wanting sex from him, loving him, thinking about marriage, you thinking In-ho is soo much better than him, you seducing the man… Gi-hun would’ve gone on and on, yelling and screaming at your trembling form as you were totally confused on why he was so angry if not for a guard that stepped in and dragged him back into the halls of bunkbeds with the other players.

In-ho. In-ho. In-ho. Whenever you say In-ho’s name, Gi-hun could throw his guts out or snap his own neck. He both wants to die and murder someone whenever his name slips through your soft lips. It makes him want to break your jaw so you could never utter his name again or bash your head in to the point of not being able to think about anything but himself, Gi-hun, your caring and generous future husband you don’t know about yet.

⁎⁺˳ — A mini scenario starts here. —

“You seem awfully tense. Is everything alright, Gi-hun?” In-ho’s voice sounded sincere. He scooted a little closer to his friend and leaned forward to rest his arms on his thighs, a concerned look on his face.

Gi-hun didn’t bother to spare him a glance and kept his eyes glued to the ground below him as he kept clenching and unclenching his fist. “I’m fine. Just worried about the games and all.” He lied through his teeth and turned his face away from him, earning a hum from the man beside him. In-ho placed a warm hand on his shoulder and gave it a small pat.

“If you are worrying about your darling, don’t worry. She is too smart and fast, she’s a real fighter. We’ll keep her safe together though, won’t we?”That statement shook Gi-hun to the core. We? Who exactly is we? He turned his head to finally look into his eyes, trying to see if he was trying to joke or being serious right now. He’d thought about letting In-ho purposefully die in the next game if it means to finally end this friendship or whatever it was between you and In-ho, but he always felt ashamed to think of someone like that right after. But not right now.

Right now, staring at that man’s face, Gi-hun wished he could wrap his hands around his neck and shut him up forever. Cut off all the air and watch as the life leaves his eyes, personally making sure that he will never talk, look or even breathe your way. How dare he. How dare he touch you, how dare he make smile, how dare he make you happy, how dare he do the life-long-job Gi-hun assigned to himself and only himself.

Gi-hun’s thoughts spiralled further. Surely In-ho fantasises about you too. About how the fat of your ass jiggles ever so slightly when you walk, how your chest stretches against the fabric of your jacket, how beautiful you’d look covered in his cum, how it would feel to take and taint you as his and only his.

And yet, he forced his violent thoughts away and let out a small sigh. Gi-hun nodded and turned to look away from In-ho again, not able to bear to have bim in his sight without fantasising about bashing his skull into the bed frame until his brain was mush and never able to conjure another thought again.

“Sure. Let’s keep her safe.”

⁎⁺˳ — End of the mini scenario here. —

💠

Author’s note.

Oh wow, I wasn’t nervous about posting like this since the first time I ever posted. To be fair this is kind of my first time posting about something else than Demon Slayer, soo… Also, Dae-ho is my baby, my precious. I need to hold him and tell him that everything will be okay and that it’s okay to feel scared. 🥺 Poor baby is so traumatised. Anyways, rant about Dae-ho over.

Make sure to EAT, DRINK and SLEEP enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[rmview]

finding out you were a bet, ENHYPEN.

featuring — enhypen members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — a reaction of what happens when you find out that dating you was actually a bet they made but they caught the feels!

contents — angst, arguments, hurt.

hee ☁ seung

heeseung froze when he saw the look on your face — hurt, betrayal, disbelief. “you knew?” he asked quietly, his voice barely audible.

“you lied to me,” you said, your voice trembling as you held back tears. “dating me was just a bet?”

heeseung’s head fell into his hands as he sank onto the edge of the couch. “at first, yes,” he admitted, his voice shaky and almost panicked. “but it wasn’t supposed to turn into… this.”

“into what?” you demanded, your eyes narrowing as the frustration bubbled over. “into me falling for you while you were laughing behind my back?”

“no!” he shouted, his voice loud enough to startle you. he stood abruptly, his face pale as he struggled to meet your eyes. “i swear it was never like that. it was stupid — immature. i didn’t think… i didn’t think i’d fall for you the way i did.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms as tears spilled over. “how am i supposed to believe anything you say now?”

he took a hesitant step closer, his hands raised as if to reach for you but stopping midway. “because i know i don’t deserve your trust, but i love you. that’s real. it’s the only thing i’m sure of,” he said, his voice shaking. “if you walk away right now, i won’t blame you, but please, don’t think for a second that what i feel for you isn’t real.”

jay ☁

“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, your voice cold but laced with pain. “were you ever going to?”

jay’s jaw tightened as he leaned against the wall, staring at the floor. “i wanted to, but i didn’t know how,” he admitted, his tone subdued.

“right, because lying to me was easier,” you shot back, your arms crossed tightly over your chest.

jay finally looked up, his dark eyes filled with regret. “it wasn’t like that,” he said firmly. “at first, yeah, it was a bet. but i didn’t think it would turn into this. into me actually caring about you.”

“you cared so much you kept it a secret,” you said bitterly.

he pushed off the wall, closing the distance between you. “because i was scared of this,” he said, gesturing between you. “of losing you before i could show you how much you mean to me. i know it’s my fault and i messed up, but you’ve got to believe me when i say i’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

you hesitated, his words conflicting with your anger. “you broke my trust, jay,” you whispered.

“i know,” he said, his voice soft but unwavering. “and i’ll do whatever it takes to earn it back. just give me a chance to prove to you that i’m not the guy who made that stupid bet anymore.”

sung ☁ hoon

sunghoon’s face turned pale when you confronted him. “is it true?” you asked, your voice trembling. “was dating me just some kind of bet to you?”

he froze, his usually calm demeanor crumbling. “who told you that?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“so it’s true,” you said, the hurt in your eyes making his stomach twist.

“at first, yes,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. “but it wasn’t like that for long. i swear, everything i feel for you now… it’s real.”

you let out a bitter laugh, tears slipping down your cheeks. “how convenient for you. do you know how humiliating this is for me?”

“i know,” he said, his voice trembling as he took a step closer. “and i hate myself for it. for being so stupid, for not telling you sooner. but please, believe me when i say i never meant to hurt you.”

“how can i believe anything you say now?” you shot back.

he hesitated, his eyes pleading. “because i wouldn’t be standing here like this if i didn’t care about you,” he said, his voice breaking. “you mean everything to me. i know i don’t deserve your forgiveness, but i’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. just… don’t walk away from me.”

jake ☁

the moment jake saw the text on your phone, he knew the truth had come out. “you know,” he said, his voice hollow as he approached you.

you turned to face him, eyes blurring with tears. “how could you do this to me?”

jake’s chest tightened at the sight of your pain. he had never seen you cry. “it wasn’t supposed to go this far,” he said quickly, his voice desperate. “it was a dumb bet, and i was stupid to agree to it. but i swear, everything after that… it’s real. you have to believe me.”

“how can i?” you asked, your voice cracking as you almost felt nauseous from the news sinking in. “you lied to me from the start, jake. i thought you cared about me.”

“i do!” he exclaimed, stepping closer. his hands hovered near yours, but he didn’t dare touch you. “i care about you so much it scares me. that’s why i didn’t tell you — i didn’t know how to admit i’d messed up so badly.”

you shook your head, your eyes full of hurt. “i can’t even look at you right now.”

jake’s shoulders slumped, his voice trembling. “i don’t blame you,” he said softly. “but if there’s even the smallest part of you that feels the way i do, please… let me fix this. let me prove i’m not that guy that you think i am. i don’t want to lose you.”

su ☁ noo

sunoo knew something was wrong the moment you looked at him, your usual warmth replaced with cold distance. “what’s going on?” he asked nervously.

“i know,” you said bluntly, holding up your phone with a message that revealed everything. “dating me was just a bet to you.”

his breath hitched, and he immediately shook his head. “it’s not like that anymore,” he said quickly, his voice filled with panic.

“then what was it like?” you demanded, your voice breaking. “was it all just a joke to you?”

“no,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “it was never a joke, even in the beginning. i know i was wrong — so wrong — but i didn’t think it would turn into this. into me falling for you.”

you crossed your arms, tears welling in your eyes. “how am i supposed to believe that?”

sunoo’s own eyes filled with tears as he clasped his hands together, almost in prayer. “because i’ve never cared about anyone the way i care about you,” he said, his voice cracking. “you make me want to be better—to deserve you. please don’t give up on us because of my stupid mistake.”

jung ☁ won

jungwon could feel the tension radiating from you as soon as you walked in. “what’s wrong?” he asked cautiously.

you turned to him, holding your phone tightly. “were you ever going to tell me?”

his heart dropped. “tell you what?” he asked hesitantly, though he already knew.

“that this whole thing — us — was just a bet?” you said, your voice trembling with anger and pain.

jungwon’s lips parted, but no words came out. finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “it started that way,” he admitted, his voice low. “but it’s not like that anymore. i swear, i didn’t mean for it to happen, but… i fell for you.”

you scoffed, your arms crossed. “do you know how humiliating this is for me? how stupid i feel for trusting you?”

“i know,” he said, his voice filled with guilt. “and i hate myself for it every day. but please, don’t think for a second that my feelings for you aren’t real. they are.”

you shook your head, tears spilling over. “i don’t know if i can believe you.”

jungwon stepped closer, his expression desperate. “then let me show you,” he said softly. “give me a chance to prove to you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i’ll do whatever it takes.”

ni ☁ ki

ni-ki’s eyes widened as soon as he heard your words. “it was a bet, wasn’t it?” you asked, your voice cold.

he froze, his usually playful demeanor gone. “who told you?” he asked, panic creeping into his voice.

“so it’s true,” you said, your voice cracking. “i can’t believe this.”

“it was stupid,” he blurted, stepping toward you. “i was stupid. i didn’t think it would matter at first, but then i got to know you, and everything changed.”

you shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “that doesn’t change the fact that you lied to me. that i was just a game to you.”

“you were never just a game,” he said urgently, his voice trembling. “i know i messed up — i know i don’t deserve your forgiveness. but you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like this, and i don’t want to lose you.”

you hesitated, your anger battling with the raw sincerity in his voice. “how am i supposed to trust you again?”

“i’ll earn it,” he said quickly, his hands clenching into fists. “i’ll spend the rest of my life earning it if i have to. just don’t leave. please.”

notes: first enhypen post <3 likes and reblogs are very much appreciated since i'm still a new writer :')

[beloveds-embrace]

Dukedom au masterlist (yes i need to update it ik) and we will not talk abt the abrupt ending 😭

The grand ballroom of glittered with the light of a thousand candles, their flames dancing across marble floors and golden fixtures hung from the ceilings. A symphony played softly in the background, a perfect complement to the hum of ongoing conversation and chatter. You stood at the center of it all, draped in a gown of midnight blue silk, embroidered with silver thread that mirrored the stars. A gift from Simon, one that had you staring at the beautiful dress in awe.

Tonight, you were the very image of grace and poise.

Your face and movements are calm and collected, hiding what you truly feel beneath. Lately, whispers of dishonor had begun circulating; rumors that your husband had fled a border skirmish back when he’d been deployed, abandoning his men, yet had paid for the matter to be buried. Vile lies, born of cowardice and malice. John’s name, his reputation, and the honor of your house were at stake; disloyalty towards the empire was seen as treason, and that was unforgivable.

You would not allow it.

The first spark of rage had ignited the moment you’d overheard the vile accusations from another lady, one of your more arrogant rivals who had laughed snidely. From there, the rumors spread like wildfire, poisoning the halls of the court and society.

But you were no stranger to such games like these. Tonight, after much planning, you’ll put an end to this farce.

You began with your loyal ladies-in-waiting. Each one owed their position to you, and in return, they offered their unwavering loyalty. “Listen carefully,” you instructed them during a private meeting in your sitting room, the door locked behind you. “Go into the court, the markets, the salons- anywhere whispers thrive. I want names, places, and patterns. Who speaks these lies, and who listens too closely?”

They curtsied and departed without hesitation, melting into the bustling world outside of the manor. Meanwhile, you turned your attention to your maids and house staff. Servants were the lifeblood of any noble house, privy to secrets thought hidden.

You met with them personally with Kyle’s help, ensuring they understood the stakes. “Speak subtly,” you said, your voice calm but firm. “Let it slip that those who spread these rumors do so for their own gain, that there’s no substance to the rumors. Plant doubt. Create cracks.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Kyle nods his head, hands on your waist. He leans down, and kisses your forehead, and you smile all sweet and pretty at him. “Whatever you want.”

While you wove your network of spies, John watched quietly from the shadows of the manor. Though he trusted you implicitly, he couldn’t help but feel a mixture of awe and unease. He didn’t want to doubt you, but he worried nonetheless for you.

In his study, he sat with Kyle.

“How’s she faring?” John asked, puffing a cigar as he leaned back in his chair. Papers were scattered on his desk, though they didn’t require immediate attention or replies. Pressed close to Kyle, bodies warm, he didn’t want to go back to working for now.

Kyle hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “She’s… efficient, John. The staff is utterly devoted to her even without my help. I’ve seen no signs of hesitation in her plans.”

John chuckled dryly, though there was a flicker of appreciation in his eyes. “I am not surprised. She’s scarier than any battlefield, Kyle. And they love her.”

With the groundwork laid, you began preparing to host a big gala at the manor. Invitations were sent far and wide, carrying the promise of exquisite dining, captivating entertainment, and the opportunity to curry favor with one of the most powerful families in the region.

None dared refuse.

Johnny worked tirelessly to ensure every detail of the menu was flawless, and though he would have helped anyways, he still enjoyed all the kisses he got as reward from yoh. “You’re pilin’ it on thick, Duchess,” he remarked one evening, wiping his brow as he inspected a rack of lamb. “Even for you.”

“This isn’t just a party, Johnny,” you replied, humming. “This is war.”

“War it is, then. Anything for you, bonnie.” he muttered, diving back into his work with renewed determination. After a very heated look from you that had him preening, though; he looked handsome in his element. And you’ll make sure to really show him your appreciation for all his hard work later, in the privacy of your rooms.

At every other gala and gathering, you moved through the crowd like a dancer with a purpose. You guided conversations subtly, planting seeds of doubt and faltering those who tried to be a bit too brave- and your reputation as a “people’s princess” helped so greatly. Your allies- the few you trusted among the nobility-played their roles perfectly.

Simon, especially. You had specifically asked for his help, curled warm and cozy on his lap one night. He’d kissed you breathless and told you he would always be there for you.

“Lord Marcan, was it?” Simon mused during one party, his glass of whiskey balanced effortlessly in his hand. The others immediately listen to him; though he isn’t the most talkative noble, his words carry weight. “I’ve heard some interesting things about him. Did you know he’s deeply in debt? I wonder how far a man would go to escape ruin.”

The other nobles exchanged glances, uncertainty flickering across their faces. You watched from a distance, satisfied as Simon delivered the blow with effortless charm.

Your web was nearly complete, each thread pulling tighter around Lord Marcan- the instigator of the rumors- until he had no room to maneuver. At the final ball of the season, the one hosted by you and John, you made your final move.

You descended the grand staircase as the guests gathered, your presence commanding attention. At your signal, the servants unveiled a surprise: a performance of actors reenacting a scene from an old skirmish. But this was no ordinary play; it was a dramatized retelling of that battle, one that highlighted John’s bravery and leadership even when Lord Marcan had tried to say John had fled that day.

The crowd was entranced, all earlier doubts finally wavering and shattering. You saw Marcan shift uncomfortably, his face pale as his lies unraveled before him and eyes turned towards him in disgust.

From the balcony above, John watched with Simon and Kyle at his side. “She’s terrifying.” he murmured, though his voice carried a note of awe.

Simon smirked. “You married a bloody tactician.”

Kyle simply nodded. “She fights for you, for us, John. And she wins.”

By the end of the evening, Lord Marcan was a broken man and his wife, Lady Marcan who had laughed at you by the rumor, was seething. Their allies abandoned them, their name tarnished by his cowardice and deceit and her aftions.

And the rumors about John’s supposed abandonment of his men? Gone.

That night, as you removed your jewelry in the quiet of your chambers, John approached you. His hands rested on your bare shoulders, his touch warm and grounding.

“You’ve been busy, beloved.” he said, his voice soft but laced with admiration.

“I did what needed to be done.” you replied, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “I know you could have simply challenged him to a duel… but we didn’t have full confirmation it was him who started. I had to do it this way.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re terrifying, love. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

From the shadows of the room, Simon leaned casually against the doorframe. “She’s not wrong, John. Best keep on her good side.”

Johnny’s voice echoed from the hallway as he came by with a tray of food. Kyle comes as well, carrying glasses of wine. “Aye, and keep feeding her. Keeps her from plotting.”

Kyle sighs, though he has a smile on his face as he sets the glasses down and instead comes to help you. “…he isn’t exactly wrong. You were incredible…. And scary.”

“Perfect, in other words.” John hums, an eyebrow raising. You do not have enough time to ask anything before he and Kyle are gently turning you around on the seat, face to face with John who kneels down. “You’ve worked so hard for me, for us, my Duchess. Let me take care of you now, hm?”

“John…“

“No more words, my love,” he shakes his head, Kyle’s hands reaching to unlace your dress, your corset, until your breasts spill out. John doesn’t even seem mildly bothered by the layers of your skirt, flipping them up until you are indecent in front of your men and he is face to face with your panties. The way they look at you, so much want…

You don’t mind. The slick spot forming speaks more than enough anyways.

“Tonight,” John murmurs, kissing your inner thighs. “Will be all about spoiling you, wife.”

[specsthesecond]

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

You wake up in the comfort of your home, snuggled in thick, fluffy sheets. Despite the cold, birds still chirp outside, advising you to start your day already. You stay in bed a little longer today, staring out the window, trying to get a hold of your thoughts.

It's been a good few days since you left that Orc's house, a few days to think about the experience and mull over what to do now.

You jolt out of your thoughts when you see, out the window, quick anxious scampering behind the snow covered bushes. Jumping out of bed, you hastily get dressed, fumbling with your boots, grabbing your trusty bow hanging by the door and a few arrows. You peek outside, sneaking as quietly as possible on the old wooden floor of the stoop, arrow already notched against the bowstring. You can only see the critters ears, twitching, listening for any trouble. It's either a rabbit or a hare, you hope for the latter.

You wait there for a good fifteen minutes, bow strung, waiting for the thing to move just a little to the left of the bush for a better shot. Your fingers burn on the string, didn't have time to grab your gloves. The second it hops slightly out of the bush, you let go of the arrow and send it flying right into the cotton-tailed critter.

When you step back inside your warm cottage, you make a beeline for the kitchen with the hare in your hand. It's quite a lucky catch, a large jack. You use this as an excuse, you actually come up with plenty excuses while you prepare a hearty stew. "There's so much meat here, it would be wrong not to share." "If I don't repay him, it'll weigh on me for far too long." "I need to bring him his flask back." "I need a good hike anyway."

Stupid rationales for the absurd idea you have conjured up. Nevertheless, you get out your fanciest ceramic pot and cook your best hare stew. You fret, far more than you'd admit, over how little ingredients you have due to the winter.

Come afternoon, you're trekking the woods, past the Human territory and into unwelcomed lands. You clutch the handle of the basket holding your steaming pot of stew and his flask tightly inside, which you filled with your favourite Red bush tea. This is just so you're even, and then you never have to think about this Orc ever again.

Somewhere in your mind you know that's not true, You'll never be able to forget what happened. You were content in your woods, pretending you weren't lonely, why has this Orc changed that? It was easy pushing the cravings down before, why is the hunger suddenly so present, so consuming.

You eventually step into the clearing where his home lies, Your thoughts continue to meander as your feet take you straight to the steps into his home. Now, you can't just leave it out for him but you can't just knock on the door and run away either...

You knock on the door three times, taking a deep breath and then cursing yourself for needing to do that. What if he doesn't want to see you again? Sure, he saved you from dying but that doesn't mean he'd want you in his home ag-

The door opens slowly, it takes you a minute to look up from the stone floor of the small veranda but when you do, it's those same dark brown eyes looking back at you. He looks shocked to see you, you expected as much. After a few awkward moments of staring, you hold the basket up with both hands, opening the top to reveal the red ceramic pot and his flask. He looks down at the parcel with a rather blank expression and it makes your skin crawl with anxiety.

You gesture for him to take the basket and he quickly, with frustratingly gentle hands, takes it from you. He takes a peek inside the pot, letting the built-up steam poor out and his eyes grow even wider, you can't tell if he likes it or not and it's killing you.

Of course he didn't want to see you. The last time you were together he woke up to you, a stranger, on top of him watching him sleep! Your face is hot with shame, you turn to leave but then hear him say something in Orcish, you turn around to face him. You're a little taken back to see the hopeful look in his eyes as he holds the door open for you, waiting for you to accept his invitation.

Timidly, you step inside. Being here again sends a shiver down your spine. The Orc gently rests the basket on his little (in comparison to him) living room table, then heads to the kitchen. He comes back with a tray of two bowls, two mugs and cutlery. It shocks you how easily you take his silent invitation to stay for dinner as you both set the table as if it's a normal thing for basically strangers to do. While he dishes up hearty portions of steamy stew in rather large bowls, you pour the red tinted tea into the two mugs he brought.

You sit down on opposite sides of the wooden table and dig in. The spoon, like the bowl, is rather big and made out of what appears to be a hard dark wood. As you taste your stew, doubts trickle into your mind. Is it not thick enough? Is the meat too tough? Do Orcs prefer tougher meat? Is it too bland for him?

The scrape of his chair on the floor interrupts your thoughts and you look up at him. He's scooping up more stew with the serving spoon and plopping it into his empty bowl. You stare at him bewildered when you realise he's already going for seconds. How did he even swallow all that so fast?

He notices you staring and looks embarrassed, like he's done something wrong. You shake your head lightly and gesture for him to continue. He smiles rather bashfully for an orc and plops another spoonful onto his heaped bowl. You hide the smile that creeps onto your face behind a hot mug of tea.

After the pot has been thoroughly emptied and your stomachs are full, he starts clearing up his side of the table. You go to follow, but he swiftly takes your bowl from you, sets it on the tray with everything else and walks off to the kitchen. For a second you sit rather dumbly at the empty table, the sound of splashing water comes from the kitchen as you look around the orc's abode.

Your eyes are drawn to a packed bookshelf in the corner, you try not to be that impressed that an orc would willingly read so many books. You imagine you would be pretty insulted if someone said that about you, and you know full well that reading is a lovely way to pass the time in such a quiet life as yours and his.

He steps back into the room holding two mugs of what was left of the tea, you suppose that means he likes it. He places them on the small table in front of the couch and takes a seat. He doesn't show any indication that he expects you to sit with him but you find yourself sinking down next to him anyway.

He picks up a little book on the low table and pages through it, it's green with bold Orcish on the front. You try to seem uninterested with what he's doing, staring down at your tea until he shuffles closer to you, pointing to a specific page in the book. You scrunch your eyebrows and lean closer, reading the text he's pointing to.

"Thank you."

Your breath catches and you read further down the page, seeing bold Orcish words followed by Human Common words.

It's a translation book.

You laugh (more like wheeze) in surprise and disbelief. The Orc looks nervous, looking back at the book to make sure he pointed to the right word. You gently take the book from him and page through it, searching.

After quite a while, you finally find it, in what you assume is the "Helpful phrases" section, and you point it out for him.

"You're welcome."

He lets out a hearty laugh and you grin at the sound. You made him laugh. His eyes crinkle, deepening the crows feet just above his cheeks, which seem a darker green than before.

After that, you sit together in quiet comfort, drinking the rest of your tea and peeking at the words in his book as he pages through the translations. The book is new, the spine isn't creased from use and the pages are still firm and fresh. Did he get this book because of you?

The thought stirs something strange in your belly and you can't tell if you should invite it in or reject it. Your eyes shift to the window near the door and you jump when you see the sun is setting. How has it been that long?

You rise from the couch and grab your basket, shoving your now clean ceramic pot into it. The Orc looks at you confused, looks towards the window, and then shoots up himself, quickly heading to the kitchen. You shrug your fur coat on at the door and wait patiently for him to return, basket in hand.

He returns with the same flask he gave you the last time you left in a hurry. He may be even more bashful this time he hands it to you and you don't need to open it to know what's inside. You nod your head again in thanks and he smiles wider than you'd think an Orc capable, if you hadn't met him, that is.

You walk out of his house, flask tucked in your basket. When you reach the end of the clearing, you turn around and there he is, standing on the veranda watching you leave. You hesitate for a moment and then give him a little wave goodbye. He returns it with his own.

As you walk through thick trees, you wonder if the nearby human village has a book vendor. Not for any particular reason.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

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[cherienymphe]

Worth It

Topper Thornton x Reader

Summary: After finally finding the strength to end your toxic relationship, Rafe thinks he can win you back, no idea that you've been sleeping with his best friend.

warnings: Non-Con, mentions of cheating, toxic relationship, semi-public sex, jealousy, secret relationship, mentions of side of Rafe x reader, kook!reader, non canon ages, p*rn with a plot

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies 

➥ Can this be read as a one shot? Yes! Can this be read as a follow up to Escapism? Also yes!

⭑

You hated the way tears spilled over as Topper forced you to stare into his eyes. You blamed it on the alcohol in your system—your inability to fully control your emotions, right now. The living room was only lit from the glow of the TV, a movie playing that all three of you had long stopped watching, but you could see the blond—and the determination on his face—perfectly.

“Topper,” you quietly gasped, pushing your arm against his neck. “Stop. Rafe-.”

Your words were cut off in your throat with one particularly hard thrust from him, his hips smacking against yours as he fucked you on the floor of Rafe’s living room. The other blond was in the shower, slightly tipsy himself and none the wiser to what was happening downstairs. Topper snapping and taking matters into his own hands wasn’t surprising. Knowing how he could sometimes get about you, you’d expected it at some point…

Just not here and now.

After a tumultuous eight months with Rafe Cameron, you finally found the strength and resolve to break up with him and keep it that way. He was an okay friend, but he’d turned out to be an even worse boyfriend. The constant lies and disrespect and betrayal had finally gotten to you and pushed you to do something about it that didn’t just involve fucking his best friend.

No one was happier than Topper when a month went by and you still hadn’t given in to Rafe’s half assed apologies and pleas. 

It was when it finally started to sink in for everyone that you were serious this time. Rafe wasn’t going to win you back this time, and especially not with the sorry excuses of apologies he always gave. You could see it in his eyes every time you were around each other—the barely contained anger and disbelief and most of all the aggravation that he couldn’t do anything about it.

To the public, you were a single woman.

It was a different story behind closed doors.

Topper never had a problem crawling into your bed every time Rafe hurt you, so he especially had no qualms about it now that you and the toxic blond had broken up for good. He could touch you and kiss you and fuck you without abandon. You no longer had to worry about the sound of Rafe’s knocks interrupting you or being quiet when he was asleep just down the hall or refusing sex with him because you were still sensitive from the feel of Topper’s cock only an hour before.

You and Topper were in heaven…

Until Rafe decided that he wanted to actually put in the work with earning your forgiveness.

“I treated you like shit,” he’d said to you one day, shocking you. “I always have and I know that and…you were right to leave me. You should’ve left me after the first time I cheated.”

There’d been a time when you would’ve killed to hear those words coming from Rafe’s mouth. Now though, now you didn’t care. Even though he didn’t know it, you’d gotten back at him in the best way possible, and it was only made better because that’d never been your intent. You hadn’t wanted to ‘get back’ at Rafe that night Topper told you about the other blond and some girl. You’d just been heartbroken…and craving the touch of another.

“Well…thank you for saying that,” you’d responded.

It was sincere. Even though you were at a place where you didn’t need to hear those words anymore, they were still nice to hear all the same. Rafe had nodded as he gazed at you, both of you in your own world away from the rest of the party.

“We’re over, and I get that now, but…we were friends once.”

You’d looked down at that, gathering where he was going with this and wondering how you and he could ever be friends again after all he’d done to you…and even you to him. He’d been your friend once but that hadn’t stopped him from cheating on you and embarrassing you and just overall treating you like shit. You were friends once but that hadn’t stopped you from sneaking around with his best friend once you found yourself at your breaking point with Rafe’s behavior.

“Look, I miss us being around each other and actually talking, you know. And I know I don’t have anyone to blame but myself, but I miss it…” your gaze met his. “I do, and I’m serious about showing you how sorry I am this time.”

You thought it was…nice.

Topper disagreed.

“We both know Rafe,” he spat at you that same night. “You know better than this. The normal routine isn’t working, so now he’s trying something different, and if you think Rafe has any interest in being your friend, I swear to God, Y/N, I will lose any respect-.”

“I am not some stupid bimbo! You don’t think I’ve considered that?” you threw your hands up. “...but I don’t see you cutting him off as a friend anytime soon, so unfortunately I still have to be around and interact with the man who broke my heart. That’ll be a lot easier now that he’s not trying to kill me with his mind every time we’re in the same room.”

Topper hadn’t had a response for that because it was true. Despite how awfully Rafe had treated you, he was still part of your normal circle—the two of you having way too many people in common—and it was something that bothered you but the alternative was isolating yourself from the people you cared about, and that just wasn’t fair to you.

It was obvious then that Topper wasn’t happy with the turn of events, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He was forced to sit back and watch as Rafe played nice with you and talked to you like nothing had happened and even flirt with you in that way he used to back before you dated. He hated it, and it was obvious long before tonight, but with alcohol flowing and trips down memory lane, Rafe got too comfortable.

…and right there in front of Topper, the other blond had thrown his arm around you before pressing his lips to your cheek.

It was only with your quick thinking that the kiss landed on your cheek instead of your lips, and picking up on the change in atmosphere, Rafe had pulled away.

“Shit,” he’d mumbled with a chuckle, running his hand through his hair. “I think I need to sober up a little bit.”

Neither you or Topper paid him much attention as he talked about needing a shower, completely oblivious to what he’d just done. You and the remaining blond merely stared at one another as Rafe made his way upstairs—his family out for the night—and it was only when you heard the bathroom door shut that Topper pounced. A hushed argument turned into something more, Topper’s anger only getting worse by the second, and you couldn’t hold in your pained gasp when his hand twisted into your hair.

Topper’s lips were on you, and his other hand was pushing at the skirt you’d put on this morning. He was a man with tunnel vision, completely uncaring about your ex—his best friend—just upstairs in the shower. No amount of times mentioning that seemed to matter, and despite the fact that you were not in the mood to have sex with Rafe so close by, Topper had reached his breaking point.

His fingers had started to curl inside of you before you knew it, one hand hanging onto him to keep from falling and the other pulling on his wrist as a means to get him to stop. Despite your slight inebriation, your feet had firmly planted on the floor to prevent Topper from pushing you down because you knew that it was over the moment he managed to get you onto your back.

With every push of his fingers into your walls, you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter, his movements becoming smoother as his fingers and hand became slick with your juices. His teeth scraped at your neck, causing a shudder to travel up your spine, and you felt his thumb join his other fingers, circling around and over your clit. The way he massaged that bundle of nerves had you faltering, and Topper saw the opportunity and took it.

It was how you found yourself on your back, literally pushing at him and pleading with him to stop.

“I don’t care,” was his only response when you mentioned Rafe the first time.

You did though, and for the first time, you found yourself genuinely resisting him and trying to get him off of you. Your skirt was hiked up around your waist—the shirt you were wearing ripped open—and Topper had long pulled at your underwear and twisted them and stretched them to give him access to push his hard cock into you. You’d almost been unable to swallow down the choked gasp that threatened to escape your throat.

He was slow in fucking you at first, distracted by the way the length of him repeatedly disappeared inside of you. He always loved that, watching your cunt greedily taking him, watching the way you dripped around him and made a mess on the pink shaft. Every protest mumbled from your lips went ignored, and it was only because you could still hear the sound of Rafe in the shower that you didn’t panic.

However, mentioning Rafe again had the man on top of you changing his pace. His thrusts grew in temp, pushing himself into you and pulling out quicker and quicker. Topper had long discarded his shirt, his shorts pulled down to his ankle as he curved his hips against yours.

“Fuck,” he cursed, grinding himself against you. “Stop talking about Rafe, just stop.”

Your forearm was pressed to his neck, tears in your eyes as you attempted to get through to him.

“He’s right upstairs,” you angrily whispered, voice panicked. “Are you crazy? Get off of me!”

It came out louder than you intended, but you’d have a much easier time explaining to Rafe what a possible noise was than what he’d see if he came down the stairs at any moment. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that the thought turned Topper on, his blue eyes glinting in a way you’d never seen as he continued to plunge his cock into you. Every time he pulled his hips back until only the tip of him remained just inside of your folds, you could hear the wet sound it made. When he thrust back into you, the squelch reached your ears, and you were too terrified to linger on how that normally turned you on.

You could only think about Rafe hearing the same thing and going on a rampage.

When Topper pulled back, you foolishly thought he decided to listen to you, but instead he only rested on his knees, his hands grabbing your thighs and yanking you closer. The moan you let out was loud and breathy, the action having caused you to feel the tip of him deep into your gut, Your legs rested over his own thighs, and Topper’s fingers dug into your hips as he jerked himself into you over and over.

Your chest was heaving, and you didn’t miss the way his hooded eyes traced over you, taking it in. Your toes curled with every push of his hips, and faintly, you could hear the distant sound of water running. A blue glow was casted over Topper’s tan skin, evidence of how much time he’d been spending in the sun. under any other circumstance, you’d reach out to run your hands over him.

Not tonight.

“Topper, please,” you breathlessly sighed.

It almost sounded like you were begging him for more, but as it were, you were begging him to stop being an asshole and get off of you. Your gaze trailed over his face and the intensity you saw there. His lips were parted, and his tongue rested just on his teeth as he looked down at you and enjoying the sight of you taking his cock. Your eyes traveled down his chest, taking note of the sweaty sheen it held.

Your gaze eventually stopped.

You watched the way his cock slid in and out of you, almost transfixed by the sight. He stretched you out so good, always had, and it was hard to ignore the way your body buzzed and your heart fluttered and your stomach tightened. You were torn between wanting to give in and adopt his ‘fuck Rafe’ mindset and trying your hardest to push him off of you.

You and Rafe weren’t together anymore, but him catching the two of you would open a whole can of worms that would ruin the dynamic between you three far worse than anything Rafe had done. Rafe had done you dirty so many times, and it didn’t matter that you’d only cheated on him with one guy. It was the right guy—the only guy that would turn his world upside down in the capacity that he’d turned yours. You didn’t want to experience the fallout of that.

More tears spilled over.

“You look so pretty like this, you know that?” Topper wondered, shifting and leaning over you as his hand circled your neck. “Panicked and teary-eyed and absolutely squirming on my cock.”

“Topper, I am begging you,” you tearfully pleaded, grabbing his hand and using your other to push at his chest. “Rafe…”

“You know what? I want him to see, and I’m tired of pretending like I don’t.”

Your eyes widened at that.

“It’d be more than what he deserves.”

The animosity and venom in his tone shocked you, and you didn't react to him brushing your tears away with his thumb. His nose brushed against yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he started fucking you harder, putting way more vigor into each thrust.

“He’s done nothing but treat you like shit…and he thinks he still can,” the blond quietly said, and you heard the sound of the shower turning off upstairs. “I want him to see me fucking the shit out of you.”

He reached down, gently pinching your clit and taking pleasure in the way you moaned.

“I want him to see me stretching you out and burying my cock into this pussy that only gets wet for me…”

Your eyes rolled at his words, and you almost forgot why you wanted him off of you so much.

“I want him to see me come inside of you,” Topper moaned, burning his face into the crook of your neck. “I want him to know that I’m spilling into you and you’re greedily milking me for every drop. I’ll happily tell him all the times I’ve done it.”

You shuddered at that, your nails digging into his arm.

“All the times I sent you right back to him with my cum between your thighs.”

“Fuck, Topper.”

You didn’t know if you were saying that in a good way or bad way. You didn’t know why, but you had never realized just how much animosity Topper held for Rafe. You supposed that he’d have to have a healthy dose to repeatedly fuck his girlfriend, but you’d always thought that had more to do with Topper’s feelings about you and recognizing that Rafe simply wasn’t good enough for you.

However, considering that the three of you were once the best of friends, it made sense that Topper would grow to hate Rafe more and more every time he witnessed him putting you through hell.

“I’m going to fill you up and I don’t care who sees.”

His words were doing a good job of convincing you, and you felt yourself caring less and less too the longer Topper fucked you towards your high. You felt your own hips lifting in time with his to meet his thrusts, getting to a point where he held himself still while you fucked yourself onto his cock.

Rafe had hurt you so much, and yes while his actions of tonight were probably driven by alcohol, he clearly thought he’d get the opportunity to hurt you again. He clearly thought you’d give in, and you two would be right back where you were three months ago. Not only did that make you angry, but it hurt. Choosing to try and be friends again was way more than he deserved, and once again, he was attempting to take advantage of your kindness.

For the first time ever, you wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt you.

Really hurt him.

…and when you found yourself on top of Topper, you didn’t care. He was lifting his hips up into you, one hand on your breast and the other on your hip to help guide you up and down his length. The tip of his cock was hitting something inside of you that had you gasping for breath. You couldn’t stop the breathless gasps and softs mewls that left your lips, eyes half closed as you fucked Topper in Rafe’s own house. You were making a mess on his skin, but you didn’t care.

You didn’t care that you were dripping around him, the inside of your thighs sticky from your juices. You didn’t care that your bra was askew as Topper pinched a hardened bud between his fingers. You only cared about pressing the palms of your hands against his chest to ground yourself and make it easier to bounce on top of him. You only cared about chasing your climax, feeling it come closer with every stroke inside of you, and when you tightened around him—Topper spilling into your eager cunt with a groan—you didn’t care when you looked up and fixed your gaze towards the stairs, locking eyes with his best friend.

[squidwriting]

#1: Welcome To The Team

✁ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

⇥ Synopsis After a terrible accident, you had lost your memory. After years of struggling with your identity, a lucky coincidence brought everything back - only to find your life in shambles, and your husband missing.

⇥ Pairing Hwang In-ho x fem!reader

⇥ Warnings Spoilers for Season 1 & 2, angst, violence, graphic descriptions of injuries & death

⇥ A/N: Changed In-ho's backstory (obviously lul) so no spoilers there. :3 Hope you enjoy! 💕

⇥ Masterlist | [#2]

✁ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"Come again..?"

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Jun-ho's story was as grotesque as it was unbelievable. There was no proof, no way to know if he was actually telling the truth. On the other hand, Jun-ho has never lied to you. He had been there ever since you woke up from your coma.

"What is it your not telling me?" you asked quietly, searching his face with your eyes. You had known him ever since he was a little boy. You knew when he was lying - or hiding something.

"Hyung didn't just participate in the games. He...," Jun-ho swallowed thickly, averting his gaze, "...became a part of it. He's the leader now."

The conversation replayed in your mind as you watched Player 456 talk with the man in question: Player 001, Hwang In-ho - your husband of almost 20 years.

Jun-ho had obviously opposed your idea of joining the games. But you were too stubborn to listen to him, too stubborn for your own good. That's what In-ho always said anyway. Maybe he was right. Still, you lost almost ten years of your life to amnesia. If there was even the slightest chance for a way back to how things were... you would take it.

Ryu Soo-Yeon. That was the name you chose for the registration. The name you had chosen after you left the hospital to start over, away from everything and everyone you knew - well, except for Jun-ho. You attempted to cut ties with him several times, too ashamed to let him in, when you absolutely refused to see your husband. But Jun-ho was persistent - even more so than you were.

You pushed the rice around in the tin lazily, thinking about your current situation. Thanks to Player 456, you survived the first game without a scratch. It would probably be wise to stick close to him going forward. Then again, that meant you had to face In-ho sooner or later.

A loud commotion ripped you out of your train of thoughts. Looking up, you found In-ho confronting two players who were ganging up on a third one. In a matter of seconds, the two bullies were silenced and groaning in pain, rolling on the floor dramatically. You bit your lip, trying not to chuckle. In-ho had always been a savage when dealing with bullies. The room erupted in applause, with him being the center of attention. You looked up slowly and found him staring directly at you. His face was like a mask, showing no emotion, betraying no thought of his. Swallowing thickly, you forced yourself to smile at him quickly, before immediately turning your attention back to your lunch.

Sleep did not come easy to you that night. In-ho had not approached you after the incident - and you thought about what to do when you two would eventually come face to face.

Funnily enough, you never thought about that possibility when you chased down the recruiter to enter this hell. Judging by Jun-ho's report, In-ho was working behind the scenes, observing these so-called "games". Why was he a participant? Did he recognize your name after all? Or was it because of Player 456 who claimed to be there for the second time?

In-ho... You sighed quietly and turned onto your side. It was strange to suddenly remember your life with him before you lost your memory. That day you regained it was like a fever dream, all the emotions and images from years ago flooding your mind - as if they were never gone in the first place. It was scary, knowing that you lost nearly 10 years of your life. How would your life be now, had not been run over by a truck? Certainly, you would not find yourself in a room with 400 other people literally gambling for your life. "Shit," you whispered angrily, rolling onto your back again, your eyes glued to the ceiling. What had you gotten yourself into? 

The light was almost blinding when the beginning of a new day was announced. Music sounded from the speakers, a melody far too happy and cheerful for a grim place like this. You climbed down from the bed carefully, stretching your limbs a bit. 

"You are... a strange one," a voice behind you said. "Pardon me?" You turned around, tilting your head slightly. The woman grinned, her eyes widening slightly. "Your aura is different from everybody else's. You're not here for the money, are you?" 

Before you could answer, another voice sounded through the speakers, telling all players that the second game was about to begin. As quickly as the woman appeared, she was gone again, leaving you behind confused and slightly startled. 

Your eyes scanned your surroundings, making out a few already familiar faces - including Gi-hun and In-ho. You bit your lip, contemplating your next move. It would be unwise to approach him directly. If Jun-ho's report was accurate, In-ho was nothing like the man you used to know anymore. What if he felt threatened by your presence? What if he snapped? 

Using a fake name was only a small part of your act. You had to be the woman whose name you were carrying. It was easy when you were still without memories. Now, it was more than complicated. What if you messed up? In-ho was smart, a former high ranking member of the Police. It would be easy for him to debunk your charade if he wanted to. Damn it, why did he have to pose as one of the players anyway? It complicated things to an impossible extent. 

"Hey 371! Come on, let's get going," you heard as you were pushed down the stairs gently. Looking behind you, you saw Player 388 smiling brightly at you. "Right," you nodded, letting him lead you down and outside to follow the guards to the next room. 

"A playground?" you whispered as you took in the scenery around you. "It's as nostalgic as it is morbid." 

Your mumbles remained unheard between the voices of the other ones - and Player 100 who apparently only possessed the ability to scream. The recipient of his ranting was Player 456 again. "That poor guy," you chuckled dryly, shaking your head a bit. 

"Players, welcome to the second game. We will begin shortly." Everytime you heard that voice through the speakers, your insides clenched painfully, for it never brought any joy or good news. "This game will be played in teams. Please take the next ten minutes to divide into groups of five."

You cursed quietly. Teams? There was no such thing in this place. Nobody really knew each other, nobody could be trusted; even more so since you still did not know which game you would play this time. How would you ever find good, reliable team mates? What if your team mates let you down and you would all die? What if-

"Hello again," the familiar voice from before spoke to you once more. 388. 

"Hi," you answered with a small smile. "Looking for a team to join?" 

"Uh, no, actually," he stuttered, rubbing his hands nervously, "we have a team, but we need one more member. If you're interested," he lowered his voice slightly, "we have two Marines and the guy who already won the games," he grinned. 

"And...? Who else?" 

"Oh," he answered quickly, "the guy who beat up those other two yesterday."

In-ho. 

Two marines, a former winner, and a former Policeman. That was probably the best team you could find in this place. Without hesitation, you took 388's outstretched hand and followed him to your new team.

The three men looked at you as 388 approached with you in tow. "This is... 371," 388 said proudly, "a... uhm..." "Taekwondo Instructor," you continued the introduction for him.

"Remind me not to mess with you then," the voice that was still terribly familiar to you said. You would recognize his voice anytime. Chuckling lightly, you bit your lip and willed yourself to look up at him again. He outstretched his hand to you slowly as he spoke up once more.

"Welcome to the team, 371." 

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Read your post about something other than angst for Simon so I have a thought that needs to get out. Morning routine with Simon. Obviously, the man is military and has a strict routine but that all goes to shit with you. Sleeping in, lazy lunch, all that cute couples shit but with Simon.

hello! tyvm for sending this idea! cute and silly couple’s domestic fluff is sweeettt!! I hope you will enjoy this :D 💖

A Day of A Cute (and Silly) Couple - Simon Riley*Reader

[6:00]

Simon doesn’t need an alarm, he automatically wakes up at 6 am.

Jogging is an important part of his morning routine when he’s on leave, a nice way to maintain his stamina, and to keep him from getting too loose.

“Where you... going...”

Oh, he forgets he has an unavoidable barrier, between him and his morning jog.

Simon looks down at you, clenching at the hem of his shirt. Your eyes aren’t even open, you just catch him in instinct and now refusing to let go.

“Go for a jog, you know it, love.” The calmness of morning makes him explain in a soft tone unconsciously.

“Stay... please...”

“You can hug your blåhaj first, I will be back soon, yeah?”

“You feel better than blåhaj...”

“...”

It’s too cruel for him to just leave you here, not when you choose him over that bloody shark you always squeeze against your body.

Simon secures the curtain so the room won’t be too bright after the sun fully rises, and lies back on the bed.

Your limbs immediately twine around him when you sense his figure is nearby, and scoots closer to him.

Jogging is important to keep him from getting loose... it’s a must for him to be strict with his morning routine...

The voices in his mind are gradually replaced by the little snores of yours as he drifts back to sleep.

[12:00]

“Can we eat fries for lunch?”

you yell at Simon who’s preparing lunch in the kitchen.

“No”

“WHYYYY!”

“UNHEALTHY!” He shouts back so his voice won’t get covered by the noise of the range hood.

okay then... you feel a bit disappointed, but you can’t come up with a convincing reason, so you just back to sweeping the floor.

just as you’re cleaning the last few spots, a scrumptious smell catches your attention, it’s not those chicken breast or salad or scrambled eggs that Simon deems healthier.

“Do you make fries?!” You knock open the kitchen door with excitement.

What you see is Simon sprinkling some salt and pepper on a bowl of fries, and he turns to you when you rush in like an energetic child.

“A few fries are tolerable” He shows you the bowl, and you can’t wait to reach out and take a bite on the crunchy and golden fries.

“Thank you, baby.” You press an open mouth kiss on your lover’s cheek.

“Don’t kiss me with your greasy mouth...”He growls, but you’re already leaving the kitchen, lilting an off-key song with the bowl of fries in your arms.

Simon just shakes his head and starts cleaning the countertop. If some fries can make you this happy, then fuck those healthy diets.

[18:00]

You two sitting face to face on the couch, the air is full of tension when you speak first.

“Mushroom”

“Mango”

“Oreo”

“Orange”

“Egg”

“g...”

“It’s over 2 seconds! Go take out the garbage, silly!”

“Fucking hell...”

Snickering at Simon’s loss, as he grumbles and on his way to grab the garbage, you add another star under your name to ‘the winner of the week’ sticky note that’s pasting on the fridge.

[23:00]

“Time to sleep.”

“but I want to watch this movie.”

“You can watch it tomorrow.”

“pleassee I want to watch it nowww Simonnn”

“...Fine.”

(00:00)

Simon looking at you sleeping like a log, whole body leaning on him and tangling him like an octopus, totally ignoring the wretched screaming from the movie, sighs and turns off the TV.

He leaves a night lamp for you, in case you need to get up for water during the night, and adjusts you two into a more comfortable posture.

He hears you mumbling something like donuts or maybe your favorite character, and chuckles quietly at how silly you are.

He already knew you would fall asleep during the movie, so that’s why he gave in, and time proves that his prediction’s correct since he’s looking at your serene face now.

“Goodnight.” Satisfied with you resting safe and sound in his arms, Simon plants a kiss on the top of your head and closes his eyes, hoping for a sweet dream that has you in it.

a/n: blåhaj sorry I love u I don't mean to harm u

[httpsserene]

𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

˖♡ - ̗̀ ⇢ listened to heart to heart by mac demarco on repeat while doing this writing exercise at two a.m. happy reading, loves x

⌕ join taglist | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

lando snores when he sleeps on his back.

he doesn’t snore when he’s on his side, when the curve of his body cradles yours.

like this, his face nestles into the nape of your neck, nose and lips brushing the skin tenderly. his chest radiates warmth against your back, spilling through your skin and warming you from head to toe. he sacrifices the arm tucked under your head, knowing it’ll be dull with numbness come morning. his other arm drapes around your waist, his large hand splayed on the softness of your belly, drifting upward at some point in the night to hold the plushness of your chest.

the first morning you woke with his hand resting on your bosom, he murmured a sleepy explanation into your skin, feels nice. and, it was nothing more than that.

like this, the only sounds you hear are the snuffles of his breath, warm and fuzzy on your neck.

lando snores when he’s deeply asleep.

he doesn’t snore when he rests his eyes, when he leans onto any surface to nap.

like this, whether it’s a chair, couch, floor, table, or tire stack—if he can close his eyes for a few seconds, he’ll be unconscious within the minute. by far though, his favorite napping spot has to be you.

lando will seek you out for the pure purpose of shutting his eyes for a moment. he crawls into your arms with his eyes already closed and asks, put me to sleep?

you massage his scalp, nails scraping along his crown gently, untangling the curls that your fingers get caught in. your other hand scratches up and down the length of his back soothingly. you speak to him softly, about anything that comes to mind and if you’re lost for words, you hum.

he’s never down long enough to reach deep sleep. his body twitches with hypnic jerks as his sleep cycle begins.

like this, naps are when lando’s silent. he extends the length of his snooze session by not handing the team a map to his location, the marked path of his snores erased.

lando snores when he’s on his back and deeply asleep.

like this, he lies flat with you curled up to his side. your head rests on his chest, the steady beat of his heart amplified with your ear pressed close. his arm around your back anchors you to him. your arm lays across his torso and your leg hooks around his.

lando is called to sleep first, as always. there was a time where you were jealous of how quickly he drifts away but now, you fight unconsciousness to wait for him to reach a deep slumber.

because if you do, you’re rewarded with a snore. the sound is throaty and nasally, it rumbles through his chest and interrupts your focus on the pumping of his heart. aptly, you’d compare it to an idling engine.

snoring is annoying to most people, for good reason. it’s disruptive, loud, and if the repetitive noises prevented you from getting your own sleep, you’d have lost your mind already.

but to you, it’s proof that lando is resting well. that his sleep is restorative, that his body is recovering, that his immune system is strengthening, and that his worries and stressors are far from mind. so, you listen to him snore for a few minutes.

however, you don’t allow yourself to treasure the rumbles for long—long term snoring can lead to other risks later in life.

you don’t want snores to be the reason you aren’t allowed a lifetime with lando.

so, you slide off of his chest, huffing quietly as you strain to shift the limp weight of his prone body onto his side. it takes effort, eventually trapping him in the embrace of your arms, throwing your leg around his hip, and tucking his head under your chin.

like this, his snores taper off into nothingness and the little strength you had left to keep your eyelids open is diminished.

lando snores when he’s in your dreams. the raspiness of his exhales mimicked by your subconscious mind calms you. you are able to rest well knowing that he’s doing the same.

© httpsserene - do not repost. photos in header from pinterest.

[sweetshuga]

Roommates ✧ CS [Finale]

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

roomie!chris! Finding the truth about your roommate—his dirty little secrets.

Everything went back to normal after your confrontation. You decided to forget about it all and go on about your day without thinking about the weird feelings you had developed.

Even so, you couldn’t ignore the way he would look at you sometimes – like he was checking you out – which the rational part of your brain kept telling you it was just your imagination and that you were delusional.

All the ground rules swirled in your mind like a broken record.

You can’t help but feel a small twinge of guilt when you remembered all the times you’ve broken the rules—without him knowing.

Rule number 1: Do not fall for each other.

You felt that spark you shouldn’t have felt.

Rule number 2: Do not invade each other’s privacy.

You eavesdropped his alone time.

Rule number 3: Do not touch each other’s belongings.

You took his camo tee.

Rule number 4: Don’t invite guests over after dark.

You let your friend come over despite it being late.

Rule number 5: Respect each other’s boundaries.

You went into his room while he was out.

Rule number 6: Do not lie to each other.

You lied through your teeth about not knowing where his camo tee was.

Rule number 7, the final rule: Clean up after yourself.

The final rule is the only one you haven’t broken yet, what to say, you were a bit of a clean freak after all. Chris, too, always kept his room tidy and cleaned after himself around the dorm.

𓆩♡𓆪

One evening, as you lounged on the couch, you felt a sudden feeling in your gut. You tried to shrug it off, thinking it was just a light stomach ache, but the feeling didn’t go away, only worsened.

Annoyed, you stood up—determined to get rid of the feeling. And as you walked, you couldn’t help but peek into Chris’ room; he had gone out.

Your stomach churned with nerves as you slowly let yourself in his room, yet again. You had broken the rule already, it wouldn’t hurt to break it again, right?

Your gaze landed on his bedside drawer, curiosity sparked within you as you took subconscious steps towards it. You wanted to know if that thong was still inside the drawer you previously found it in, and there it was, the same peach coloured frilly lacy thong.

You let out a small gasp as you checked the size and brand—it was without a doubt yours. You stared at the scrunched up fabric in your hands, questions flooded your head, the loudest one being, "why?" You echoed your thoughts out loud.

Looking around his room, you stood up, the thong clutched in your hands as you hesitantly opened his closet—only to find various polaroids of you and a few more of your lingerie.

The sight was almost too much to handle and you closed his closet, leaning against it, you murmured quietly, "what the fuck..." Confusion etched on your features.

You took a deep breath and turned around, facing the closet door once again and opened it. Crouching down as you inspected the polaroids. They were of you sleeping, looking away, cooking– he had taken them when you weren’t looking or paying attention.

"Jesus..." You breathed out, "what is all this?" Your hands reached for the lingerie. Pink lacy thongs, blue frilly ones, black g-strings—every one of them yours.

𓆩♡𓆪

Closing his bedroom door, you headed straight into your room. You plopped on your bed – looking up at the ceiling – with a drop in your gut. You only now knew who you were living under a roof with. A sick fucker, disguised by his good looks and innocent behaviour.

Despite your thoughts and the fright you felt, there was a small smile on your face—as if you were relishing in the newfound attention.

You weren’t as scared as you should’ve been, instead, his obsession with you seemed to make your heart race, in a sick, twisted way.

𓆩♡𓆪

When Chris arrived back to the dorm, he noticed that his room door was slightly ajar, and as he entered it, his heart dropped to the floor.

The things he so desperately wanted to hide – his dirty little secrets – were scattered all across his bed and floor. Lingerie and Polaroids adorning his once tidy room.

His heart raced with fear and excitement as he looked back at your bedroom door, closed but with a note stuck on it.

"I know."

𓆩♡𓆪

Rule number 7: Clean up after yourself.

You had left it messy, on purpose.

𓆩♡𓆪

rule. 1 2 3 4 5 6 Origin

wc. 754

note. English is not my first language—if you didn't catch on with my poor vocabulary and writing skills.

Isa's notes. This is the last part of the blurb series! But spoiler? I'm writing the full length fanfic to the series! Dunno when I'll finish it, let's just say I got a writers block kinda situation going on right now, sucks ass but yeah... At least this one is the longest in the series. And as much as I want to continue this series, the rules are limited sooo... Here we are, saying goodbye to roomie!chris, for now ♡

Also, the fact that the blurb series started off with a cute little fluff kinda thing to this? Plot twist hoes 😋

Taglist: @certified-sturniolo @sturnioloszn @ashlishes @slut4brunettes @wpcne8sr @ribread03 @poolover123 @h3arts4nat @freakbob15

xoxo 𓆩♡𓆪

© sweetshuga

[noobsoconfusing]

‘fill the void’_ hamzahthefantastic

summary: hamzah has been busy with the channel and misses you so much, so when you finally have time together, you kinda make it up to him.

warning: sub!hamzah, guided masturbation, lowkey cum eating, kinda gross, fluff and praise.

>_<

hamzah’s right leg bounces up and down in a desperate manner, erratic and anxious.

brown eyes shaky and glossy as he anticipates your company, your mere existence next to his. he bites his lip hard enough to wince but not that hard to draw blood.

as the elevator is taking way too long for his liking, he rolls his eyes and practically sprints up the stairs.

bad idea, oh god. –he thinks to himself, slowing down his pace as he gets to the third floor. two more floors to reach your shared flat.

the anticipation grows inside his belly, excitement even, to finally see you after such a long day. fuck, he misses you. badly. so badly.

as he fumbles with the keys, a groan escapes his lips when his hands start shaking. open, open, please just open. he mentally begs.

fucking finally, the door opens and hamzah shuts it closed as he enters, looking for you desperately, like a lost puppy looking for its owner.

“y/n! i am home!” he announces.

red and blue quickly make their way out of their shared bed, snuggling up onto hamzah’s legs, showing how much they missed their cat dad. no response from you, whatsoever.

“hey little guys, where’s mom, huh?” knowing he wont get an answer back, hamzah pets his cats and continues looking for you.

as he gets into your shared room, he sighs in relief. there you are.

though you can’t see him, as you quickly type something on the keyboard, sitting on the desk that faces the wall. you’re wearing his headphones, and he then thinks you might be doing college work or just being functional.

he sneaks behind you, and pauses for a moment. waiting to see if you can feel his presence. but as you’re too carried away by whatever the fuck you’re doing, you don’t.

“woah!” you whine when hamzah snatches the headphones off your head. quickly, you turn around on the chair to face your boyfriend. a big smile forms on your face. “hello!” you say.

hamzah pouts, “thought you weren’t home.” he says, pulling your body effortlessly off the chair so you can stand in front of him. “i missed you so fuckin’ much you have no idea.” he admitted

“hey, i missed you too.” you murmur as his body melts with yours in a tight hug.

you can feel how he inhales your scent, his hands slide to your waist too, gripping so hard you think it might bruise. he groans into the hug, a desperate sound erupting from his throat. and then you know whats up.

“you okay, love?” you ask, trying to pull away to face him but he grips tighter, audibly protesting for you to just stay there with him.

“need you. that’s all.” his voice sounds soft, still low and deep per usual. but you get to hear the smallness of his words, the warm sound of need.

“it’s fine, need you too…” you quietly admit, not breaking the hug still.

and the scene is just weird. how you two stand in the middle of the room, embracing each other and balancing as you try not to lose yourself and fall on the floor from how hard he hugs you

“bed, please?” he asks after a moment.

you nod. “yeah, bed.”

for the first time, he breaks the hug but only to quickly get rid of his shoes, he takes off the beanie he was wearing and pulls your hand so you can lay on the bed with him.

“you’re very warm, you feel good?” you ask, a tone of worry sliding out of your question.

his cheeks are flushed and eyes teary, he looks so stupidly good though, something about his needy image invites you, attracts you even more.

“i feel good now that i’m with you.” hamzah holds your hand in his, bringing it up to his face and just keeping it there.

“love you so much, yeah?” you say, caressing his features and letting him lean into your touch.

cozy. very cozy.

“get closer, please.” he pleaded, and when you didn’t move as fast as he would’ve liked, he took matters into his own hands. his hands gripped your hips, pulling them towards his own body, the space between you both nonexistent.

he kissed your neck desperately, hungrily, almost like he was starving.

“so fuckin’ pretty, ma.” he breathed out, a whine catching up inside your throat. that pet name always made you fuzzy inside.

“are you sure you’re okay, hamzah?” you were worried by how he was behaving. not worried in a bad manner, but surprised.

it seemed that now, the words had vanished from his brain, he acted completely out of impulse.

“mmhm, yeah.” he shifted on the bed, placing his leg over yours. “just… really fuckin’ need you right now… always do.” he kissed your shoulder and you shivered at the feeling of his lips on your body.

each time felt like the first time.

“tell me, hamzah.” your voice came out like a whisper, but it was fine.

his eyes opened and stared at you, the vague lighting of the room felt almost painful as it hit his sight.

“what?” big hazy eyes penetrating your figure, he almost wanted to swallow your image, engrave it onto his brain.

you gulped. closeness feeling way too intense now. you liked it.

“tell me what you need me to do.” he groaned at your words, licking his lips almost instinctively.

he was nervous all of sudden.

“i- i don’t know.” hamzah felt so small, so braindead.

every single time he was with you, he felt as if some switch inside his brain turned off, leaving you all the thinking work.

“i think you do know, yeah.” your hand traveled to his cheek, all the way down to his neck, and you let it rest there.

you felt him swallow, his adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

“can you- uh, …please?” so fucked, that’s how he felt. you had barely done anything more than just exist, and yet he was fucked. how pathetic.

“hey, hey, words.” you tighten the grip on his neck, not enough to choke, just enough to feel his blood flowing through the veins.

he whined just so beautifully.

“y/n… p-please…” his lower lip trembled and you knew what he wanted. still, you waited for him to tell you. “can i kiss you?” please please say yes.

a smile appeared on your face and you nodded slowly. so tempting.

“sure.” finally, you thought.

he wasted no time, cupping your face with his big hands, and getting to taste your lips after what felt like ages.

oh how soft, how delicate. he melted right then and there, some part of his mind became mush, and all he could do was keep kissing you, it was messy, so desperate.

however, you started feeling needy too. a feeling so complex to understand. a feeling only hamzah could fill.

like an emptiness inside that you knew only he could fill up.

hamzah’s tongue pressed between your lips and you parted them, allowing him in. you couldn’t help but giggle at the feeling, at how he was practically desperately grinding his hips onto you without shame.

this man, you swore, couldn’t kiss you without getting his dick hard, and that was just the effect you had on him.

“oww, f-fuck, ‘s good” he breathed out, a whine almost. “you’re so pretty, i could eat you.” he said, his hands moved up and down your torso, feeling you up in such a hungry manner.

“damn…” you said quite surprised at his words.

as you were starting to feel not enough contact, you shifted on the bed, breaking the kiss for a moment, hamzah’s eyes stared at you worried, afraid he might’ve done something you didn’t like.

“wha-?”

“hold on, don’t be desperate.” you giggled, kindly pushing hamzah back on the pillows and straddling him.

“can’t help it, sorry…”

he groaned when you sat on his lap, your body perfectly pressing his.

“love you so much, y’know that? love every single thing about you, pretty boy.” your hands found support on his shoulders, he enjoyed this position so much, he got to see your face and at the same time found a nice good friction.

“god i love you, i love you, love you so m-much.” his hands gripped your hips once again, and he thrusted up to feel you. the hardness inside his sweats was painful, and only you could help him out with it. he closed his eyes when you grinded down too, your core pressing with him oh so perfectly.

“open.” you said, soft voice made him melt.

hamzah opened his mouth, eyes closed still, his cheeks so red and tongue wetting his lower lip.

you shook your head with a smile, letting an airy laugh slip past your lips. god he was so fucking cute like this.

“your eyes, silly, i meant open your eyes.”

“oh…” he giggled nervously, a new side of him you didn’t quite know about he had just showed. “sorry, baby…” he pulled up to kiss your lips once again, a peck this time.

“it’s okay, you’re pretty.”

fuck, hamzah could dry hump you for eternity. his hips were kinda tired, he wanted you to do the work for him, however, he couldn’t let you, he didn’t wanna be a bother. though, he wasn’t.

“wanna make you cum..” you said breaking the comfortable silence. not very much of a silence, since his moans would constantly be adorning the space surrounding you.

“j-just… do it- please, please i’ll do anything, i promise…” hamzah pleaded once again. it was weird. so cute though, you loved when he did that. that thing with his eyes, the lust, the love.

his hips began to stutter, was he close from just humping?

“gonna take these off, okay?” you said, asking for an already given permission.

he nodded so fucking fast you thought his head was gonna fall off his neck.

hamzah admired your actions, how you got off his lap to pull his sweats off, and he just let you do it. he felt like putty, like something maleable for you to play with. he liked feeling that way.

“pretty. very pretty.” you praised his bulge, taking your time to take his briefs off. almost like you wanted to tease him.

“s-stop…” he felt nervous. even if you had seen him plenty of times, still got nervous when you praised him.

“want me to stop?” you asked, attentively. your eyes scanned his figure, looking for any discomfort. you found any.

“no! no! please j-just keep going!” you took that as a cue to start. “fuck!” a high pitched moan left his soul.

his eyes rolled back when your flat hand placed over his clothed boner, and an idea popped into your head.

“do it yourself.” you bluntly said.

his eyes opened wide, looking worried and confused. he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“i want you to do it, hamzah. please yourself, come on.” you explained better.

“b-but…”

“shh, i know you can do it, yeah? you’re such a good boy, aren’t you? so pretty for me, so sweet, so obedient… c’mon.”

he groaned again, his cock twitching inside his briefs as you praised him once again. he nodded slowly, feeling dizzy all of sudden.

shaky hands took over, hamzah slipped his dick out of his underwear and shakily touched the leaking tip. fuck, he felt so stupid, almost like all his self-pleasing knowledge had been forgotten all of sudden.

“mmhmm, shit..” he cursed under his breath when it twitched again, leaking this ridiculous amount of precum just at the thought of you watching him jerk off.

he could feel your sight on him, so expectant.

“go ahead, love.” you encouraged him, sitting closer to him, your hand on his thigh. he shivered at the touch.

“o-okay, gonna start now..” he felt as if he needed your permission, which you had given him already.

his hand wrapped around his shaft, it felt slippery and wet from all the stimulation that kissing and humping you had given him. he moaned, satisfied. his thumb circled around the head, sliding easily, and then, when his hand tightened, he stroked all the way down.

“oh god, god, oh f-fuck, y/n?” it felt so surreal. he had jerked off infinite times before this, why was he so fucking sensitive now?

your hand caressed his thigh. “yeah?”

“n-nothing.”

“keep going, you’re doing very good.” you moved closer to kiss his temple, lovingly and gently.

hamzah stroked up, and then down again. he was going at a very steady pace, trying his best not to cum quickly, since he wanted you to know how much he could handle.

not much.

“gonna tell me what has you so needy?” you asked all of sudden. and then, hamzah thought it was rather interesting to have a conversation while he was pounding it.

“uh…i- i think it’s just w-work,” he managed to reply. “been away all week..” he added after a groan, slowing down his movements.

“don’t stop.” you warned, moving your hand to engulf his own, as you helped him jerk off, steadying his shaky moves. “missed me, huh?”

“fuck yeah, a lot.” mhmm. “missed y-your voice a-and you… and your touch and, and this…” his eyebrows knitted together, he opened his mouth to moan but it was silent when you made his hand stop. “p-please, keep going…” he begged.

“you do it, love.” you said, letting his own hand move and the other hand gripped the sheets so hard you thought he was gonna rip them apart.

the wet sounds of hamzah’s skin, the lewd sounds of his hand sliding up and down his dick filled the room. it made you unbelievably worked up seeing him so desperate. it was very pretty.

he was starting to jerk off quicker, the speed alarming you. short moans came out of his throat, curses too.

“ah, ah, ah- shit! wanna cum… gonna-, c-can i?” his movements erratic and inconsistent, the glistening clear fluid coating his hand entirely from how messy he had been.

he had been so good, waiting all week for you. even if he was away filming and you were busy with college. he had been patient and waited until you both could get intimate. so good.

“cum, hamzah, be good for me, okay?” you squeezed his thigh again, giving him reassurance.

he moaned loudly, his breathing stopped, it caught up on his throat.

“wanna fill you up, god, wanna fill you up so bad, s-so bad..” he rambled slurring his words.

inside his mind, the image of him filling you up with his warm cum. it always helped him reach a decent, more than good orgasm.

your thighs pressed together and your eyes widen at his words. you bit your lower lip, anticipating his release. a small, needy whine escaped from your lips.

hamzah’s free hand looked blindly for yours, awaiting to hold onto something while he let himself go. you linked your hands and he then, only felt like he could cum.

“o-oh fuck! y/n, y/n!” there we go, his low voice carried out a cry, so pathetic. he kept stroking, wanting to let out all the built up cum he had been accumulating all damn week. “owww…” he sobbed.

hamzah’s shaky hands let go of his shaft and he opened his eyes slowly. he looked down at the mess he had made. a puddle of cum settled on his tummy, part of the sheets and his hands.

you giggled, snapping him out of his trance. hamzah looked at you with droopy eyes, tired and sleepy. he smiled lazily. silently thanking you for everything you did for him.

“y/n, i love you.” he said after a while of just trying to catch his breath.

you took his hand, the one that had cum all over, and held it up. he looked at you anticipating, those big brown eyes staring directly at your soul.

then, you did it. you licked his fingers, tasting him in your mouth. his eyes widened, the sight of you practically eating his cum made him warm all over. the knot inside his tummy started to tighten once again.

“oww… you’re gross.” he playfully said scrunching up his nose. blatantly lying. he found it hot.

“nah, you are gross, look at this mess!” you pointed at the messy sheets. hamzah rolled his eyes and sighed, tired.

“your fault.” he giggled.

kinda your fault for how fucking adorable you were. your fault for making hamzah so stupidly horny. your fault for making him love you so much.

“need to clean you up, though.” you were going to get up and look for wipes but he held your hand, dragging you back in the bed with him.

“stay with me.” he said, looking at you with those eyes he knew you loved. persuading you into just laying there. next to him.

you couldn’t say no to him, not ever. so you gave in. you threw yourself on the pillows and held his hand. your breathing synced with hamzah’s.

realisation hit you then. you leaned up to peek and held a laugh when you saw the image in front of you. hamzah’s hand gripped yours as he felt you moving. you blinked.

“your dick is still out.”

post nut clarity hit hamzah too, however he was too calm and comfy to do anything about it.

“yeah, i know..”

“okay.” you smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. he leaned his on yours too, “i love you”

“mhmm, love ya’ so fuckin’ much too, ma, so much, you don’t even imagine…” hamzah snuggled closer to you, the warmth comfiness of your body next to his calmed his nerves.

comfortable silence filled the room, as your tender love filled the void.

>_<

sorry this took so long and sorry this sucks but i smoked some weed and kinda just vomited words and this came out bye

[sweetpascal]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

gif by: @richardgrimes

pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader

summary: when you do the unthinkable, joel takes it upon himself to let out all of his anger and frustration onto you. the punishments that follow are ones that officially tear you apart and turn you into an unrecognizable girl.

warnings: MINORS DNI. DUB-CON. BIG AGE GAP [18/52], joel is VERY VERY VERY mean in this chapter, face slapping, hair pulling, hella manipulation, finger sucking, spanking as punishment [with his hand and belt], TW: isolation as punishment, TW: emotional abuse, joel spits on your face, oral [m receiving], TW: forced asphyxiation, joel has a very big dick ok, masochism, sadism, dacryphilia, kinda angsty ??

wc: 7.3k

notes: i felt kinda blah about this series cause i feel like i'm not making joel mean enough compared to how some writers write dark!joel (´•︵•`) so i got really sad and put all my emotions into this chapter as a coping mechanism and made joel REALLY fucking mean and just... a horrible and nasty man. trauma ?? i think so. ENJOY. ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

edit: i posted this later than expected UGH. expect two updates in one day.

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By the time you awoke, the space beside you in bed was vacant. You have no recollection of drifting off in Joel's embrace. As you rise, the fluffy blanket cascades down, gathering around your hips. Joel must have draped it over you once you had succumbed to sleep. The absence of his clothes on the floor and the chill of his side of the bed leave you questioning whether he stayed the night at all, stirring a sense of unease within you. He had done something new, something that made you feel good, and he wasn't here when you woke up. Why? Why wasn't he here? Why do you feel so cold all of a sudden? Was this something normal that men do? Embarrassed by the series of events from last night, you pull on your discarded panties and shorts.

The sunrise had not yet begun. Looking out the window, the sky displayed an almost purplish tint with the sun barely cresting the horizon. It was a cloudless sky, yet the faint chirping of morning birds could be heard from their respective trees. Unsure of the time, as Joel had confiscated your phone and you lacked an alarm clock, the day's start remained ambiguous.

As you tiptoe out of your room, you notice the house is completely quiet. Joel usually wakes up before dawn, but today, a faint snore drifts from his and your mom's bedroom. Moving down the hall, you gently push the slightly open door further. In the dim blue light filtering in from outside, you can just make out Joel's form. He's sprawled on his stomach in the center of the bed, clutching his pillow while your mom's lies abandoned on the floor. Shirtless, the sheets are drawn just below the dimples of his back. The bedside clock shows 5:22 AM.

"Daddy?" you whisper faintly into the darkness, pausing for an answer. Only his soft snores, muffled by the pillow, meet your ears. Drawing nearer, you notice Joel is lying on his good ear, the other affected by partial hearing loss. The urge to rouse him is strong, yet you hesitate, knowing these moments of peaceful rest are few for him.

The rumbling of your stomach makes you whimper. Joel usually prepares meals for you when asked. Your mother, however, rarely agrees, often reminding you that you're old enough to cook for yourself. But Joel always protests, saying, "I don't want your pretty little hands to get all cut up and burned." Perhaps he wouldn't mind if you made breakfast just this once. It would be a sweet gesture to surprise him with breakfast in bed. You wonder if your mom ever did something like that for him.

"I'm going to make breakfast for us, okay, Daddy?" you whisper, a bit louder this time, your hand hovering just above his broad back. You can feel the warmth radiating onto your palm. When he doesn't respond, only emitting another snore, you quietly tiptoe out of the room and gently close the door, cringing when it makes a loud noise at the last moment.

Descending the stairs, a sense of unease weighs heavily in your stomach. Alone, with dark blue hues filling patches of the vacant house and shadows stretching across the walls, you almost feel an invisible presence. You find yourself wishing Joel were awake to fend off the lurking shadows. Rushing to the kitchen, you flip on the light, blinking against the sudden brightness until your eyes adjust.

Opening the fridge revealed a lackluster array of dinner leftovers, several half-empty condiment bottles, an empty milk carton, and a bag of grapes beginning to rot. It was disappointing to find nothing inspiring to cook with. A glance at the stovetop clock showed it was 5:30. The local market would open at 6, and it was only a half-hour walk away. However, the prospect of walking that distance didn't appeal to you, dramatic as it might seem. Your eyes then fell upon Joel's truck keys and wallet in the bowl on the kitchen countertop. Surely, he wouldn't mind if you borrowed them for a quick shopping trip.

Right?

By the time you returned home, it was nearly 8 o'clock. The neighborhood had fully come to life. The groceries in the truck's backseat jostled with every gentle turn. A sinking feeling emerged at the thought of Joel's anger over you borrowing his truck without asking and taking some of his twenty-dollar bills. Yet, it stemmed from a desire to do something kind for him in gratitude for his good care during your mother's absence. An excitement bubbled within you, eager to burst.

You hadn't planned to be out this long, but losing track of time and procrastinating on your tasks is a frequent issue. Joel often chides you for this, playfully urging you to get your head out of the clouds and to come back down to earth. Your only hope is that Joel remains asleep, unaware of your absence. However, the missing money from his wallet, the extra miles on his truck, and the depleted gas are sure to give you away.

As you park the truck in the driveway, you notice the porch screen is wide open, though you remember closing it before sneaking out. Your heart sinks at the sight of Joel's daunting figure in the doorway, his gaze piercing through the windshield. It's a wonder the glass doesn't crack under the weight of his stare. Your pulse quickens, a flurry of nervous butterflies takes flight in your stomach, and your palms dampen with sweat as you clutch the steering wheel tightly.

Joel points at you and then to the ground at his feet, silently mouthing, "Now." He then vanishes back into the house, clearly pissed off. Fear grips you, making it daunting to leave the truck's safety. After six agonizing minutes, you gather enough bravery to step out, your breath hitching in your throat and almost making it difficult to breathe.

After hoisting the grocery bags into your arms and nudging the back passenger door closed with your foot, likely leaving a mark on the polished metal, you make your way to the porch with unsteady steps. The door stands slightly open, and you gently push it wider. As you spin around to close it, a hand reaches over your shoulder and slams it with such force that the house seems to shake. Startled, you yelp loudly as Joel grabs your arm firmly and pulls you into the kitchen, his long strides causing you to stumble over your feet.

"Sit your fuckin' ass down," he practically barks, pulling out a kitchen chair and slams it down. He pushes you toward the chair so forcefully that the grocery bags tumble down around you. As you land on the wooden chair, the impact from Joel's shove nearly expels all the air from your lungs.

He stands over you from your seated position, towering and nearly trembling with fury. Joel's hands are clenched into tight fists, his knuckles whitening under the strain. He scratches his jaw and paces, a low growl emanating from deep within his chest as the intensity in his eyes burns fiercer. You close your eyes, sitting motionless, bracing yourself.

"Are you out of your GODDAMN MIND?!" He bends down to scream in your face, his face contorted in a way that makes him look scary and so different from the usual angry Joel you normally see. This Joel was drowning in rage. His eyes were nearly black and the lines on his face deepened as he snarled in your face. "You fucking ANSWER ME!" One hand grabs the back of your hair and yanks your head back so fast that your nerve spasms, a shrieking cry escaping your lips. His other hand grabs your face and squeezes your jaw so tightly that pain blossoms throughout your gums.

"Stop, stop, stop, please, stop!" You're babbling in his face, thick tears sliding down your cheeks from the intense pain in your scalp, neck, and jaw. You could barely catch a breath from how hard you're crying. "Da-Daddy, p-please!" You're grabbing on both of his forearms, nails digging deep through his long shirt, no doubt leaving indentations.

Joel only grunts lowly, his breath heavy and fast. His hands squeeze tighter, and he roughly shakes your head, loving the way your face scrunches up at the pain he's causing. Then, he forcibly pushes your head away, releasing his hands from your knotted hair and your already bruising jaw. Tears streaming down your face, you draw your knees up to your chest for comfort and hesitantly reach for the back of your head, while your other hand softly caresses your jaw. Your eyes are wide, reflecting a state of shock and fear. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his frown growing more pronounced as you quiver uncontrollably.

He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and flings it towards you. It strikes your knees and tumbles to the floor, unfolding just enough to reveal its barren interior.

"You take my fuckin' truck," Joel says in a low voice, trembling with anger. He steps back, his boots thudding on the floorboards. "You take my fuckin' money." At this point, you're nearly hyperventilating, silently cursing yourself for such a foolish act and expecting him to accept it. He goes on, his tone grave, "And you sneak out without telling me, huh? What, you want more freedom than what I'm giving you here?"

The anger that Joel feels is indescribable. It's coursing through his veins like heroin, poisoning his blood and gradually taking over his body. He doesn't know what to do, or even think. All that he can do is react. How stupid of you to think this was okay. How mind-numbingly idiotic it was of him to expect you to follow his rules and obey him like a good girl. As he looks down at you like smeared shit at the bottom of his shoe, there seems to be only one option left.

Before you can react, Joel has seized your arm and pulled you up from the chair, nearly dislocating your shoulder. His footsteps are long, resounding, and forceful. Tears continue to flow as he hauls you up the stairs. You stumble on each step, crying and sobbing, while you try to keep pace with him. Your knees are banging against every edge as Joel practically drags you up the steps.

"Da-Dad-dy!" Choking on your tears, you can barely see anything. Your vision is blurry, and your hearing is muffled. Every nerve in your body is on fire. "Pl-Please, Jo-el!"

"Get up, girl! C'mon. Get your fuckin' ass up!" He grunts through labored breaths, jaw clenching tightly as he drags your body by the arm up the last step. "I've had 'nough of you."

Suddenly, he kicks your bedroom door open, your heartbreaking cries falling on deaf ears. Your body is shoved into your room with enough force to make you collapse onto the ground. You're gasping for air, your fingers slick with sweat as they frantically claw at the rug, desperate to find something to hold onto.

Joel stands motionless in the doorway, his gaze fixed on you without a trace of emotion. Thoughts flood his mind, overwhelming him like a tsunami. Make her hurt. Make her cry. Make her beg for mercy. He retrieves a key from his front pocket and observes as you pathetically curl into a ball on the floor, your shoulders shaking violently while you cry into the carpet. His hand rests on the doorknob. Before leaving, he speaks in an unexpectedly gentle tone, "Until I believe you've learned your lesson, you're going to stay here, and you're going to think about what you did."

Then, he departs and forcefully closes your door. Amidst your heavy sobs, the sound of the bedroom door lock engaging is audible. Glancing over your shoulder weakly, you notice the doorknob has been altered from before. Gone is the twist lock, replaced now by a keyed lock mechanism.

The epiphany strikes with overwhelming force. Enclosed by a door that's locked and windows sealed shut, you find yourself imprisoned with no means of escape.

Unaware of how much time has passed, you stay on the ground, curled up, emotionless. The tears have stopped, leaving behind an empty stare. The night has already set in, shrouding your room in darkness from top to bottom. Joel's footsteps are audible everywhere, hardly silent. Whenever he approaches your door, there's a halt, a moment of stillness, and then the sound of his steps resumes. Undoubtedly, he was listening with his ear against the door. Each approach brought a heaviness to your heart and a sinking sensation in your stomach.

The aroma of garlic sizzling in oil drifted from the kitchen, prompting your mouth to water and your stomach to knot with hunger. You hadn't eaten since the night before. The clatter of pots and pans, either being used or stored away, brought tears to your eyes. "Stupid, stupid girl," you chide yourself. It was foolish to attempt a kind gesture for Joel, only to have it go horribly wrong. It was a rash and impetuous move. Now, he'll never forgive you for this. This realization has you weeping once more into the spit-soaked, tear-stained rug.

Engrossed in your thoughts, you fail to notice the door has come unlocked and now stands ajar, the hallway light spilling in and illuminating your huddled form. Joel pauses in the doorway, a plate of food in hand, and tuts softly at the pathetic sight before him.

"Sit up," he commands, making his way deeper into the dimly lit room. The sound of his rough voice had your entire body tensing and your quiet cries immediately halting. When you remain still, Joel becomes irritated and prods your hip forward with his muddy boot, leaving a mark on the pristine white dress you wore especially to surprise him. "I said, get your fuckin' ass up, little girl. Don't make me tell you again."

With trembling limbs, you gradually unfold yourself, grimacing as your muscles burn. Your scalp, jaw, neck, knees, and arms feel as though they are on fire. After hours of immobility and neglecting your aching body, the pain strikes you with overwhelming force.

Joel squats before you, emitting a soft grunt as his knees pop and his lower back tightens. In silence, he extends the plate of food between you both: parmesan garlic chicken, green beans, and red roasted baby potatoes. The aroma and appearance make your eyes widen, your mouth water, and your stomach rumble.

The moment your fingertips graze the plate's underside, Joel pulls it away and sets it on the ground. Your faint smile vanishes, replaced by a frown as you meet his stern gaze. He remains silent, his stare unwavering. Looking down at the plate, it dawns on you that there's not a fork, knife, or even a spoon in sight.

"Eat," he commands, his voice a quiet murmur. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his eyes unblinking, his facial expression shifting subtly. The softness and tenderness that were once reserved for you have vanished. He never used to look at your mom the way he looked at you. But now, his gaze is identical. It leaves you feeling sorrowful and heartbroken.

Confused and very much embarrassed at not knowing what to do, you hesitantly reach out to grab the chicken with your bare hand. Joel's hand roughly clamping around your wrist and shoving it away prevents you from doing so. There was a surge of panic that shot through you like a shotgun blast.

"No," he snaps, his eyes narrowing and his scowl deepening. It's clear he's losing patience. Joel has no time for games. "Bend down… and eat," he commands.

There's a tense, heavy moment of silence as you thoroughly think about what he's telling you to do. Warmth spreads throughout your neck and rises to your cheeks before settling on the tips of your ears. Your heart plummets to your stomach. So, like an obedient little dog, you lower your head down to the plate on the ground and begin eating.

Joel smiles at your obedience, one hand gently petting your head and tenderly massaging the tendrils of hair connected to your scalp that he viscously yanked. He softly quiets you when you flinch and unintentionally whimper. He maintains the gentle, affectionate strokes of his hand through your hair, even gathering it into a ponytail to help you eat more comfortably.

"That's a good girl," he softly praises, settling onto his knees in front of you and using his other hand to gently stroke your jaw. "See how easy it is to obey Daddy? You just needed some of Daddy's tough lovin', huh?"

Is this what it was? Some tough love? You've never encountered that before, much less experienced it. Since you were never a problem child, discipline was seldom necessary. Maybe this is exactly what you needed to be a good girl for Joel. Maybe this tough love is what will help you do better and learn from your stupid mistakes.

As you continue eating, Joel finds himself slowly loving the sight of you eating like a fucking mutt in front of him. Knowing that he can push you so far as to do something like this excites him. His hand tightens in the makeshift ponytail he has your hair in, and his eyes darken. Letting out a whimper that was muffled from your food, you make sure to not complain about it to Joel. He was already upset with you from earlier and you really don't want to push it further.

"That's enough," he declares, his hand in your hair stopping your movements while his other hand takes your plate away, leaving half of the food untouched and uneaten. His hand pops you on the cheek when he hears you protesting, a pained yelp escaping your slobbered lips. He forces your head up to be eye level with his. "Listen to me, little girl. From this moment forward, Daddy will decide what you eat, when you eat it, and how much you can eat. Have I made myself clear?" His voice's tone is so authoritative that it holds no room for argument, not that you could muster one even if you wished to.

Nevertheless, you find yourself nodding within his grasp. Choosing not to protest was wise. Should this behavior be part of your punishment or his version of tough love, you certainly wouldn't want to witness him at full strength. Merely the thought was enough to make you shudder with fear once more. Joel was an incredibly strong man, often unaware of his own strength. He could break your jaw with one squeeze--he almost fucking did it this morning.

Joel mocks your nod. "Good," he hums, offering you a pleased smile as he lovingly strokes the apple of your cheeks. "Now, come to the bathroom so Daddy can brush your teeth."

Leaving your half-finished plate behind, you follow Joel into the hallway. You trail behind him aimlessly, your steps shaky and limping. He notices but chooses not to comment. It's for the best, a silent reminder that such consequences will recur if you act carelessly again.

Joel opens the door to the main bathroom and guides you inside with care. He lifts you with ease under your arms and sets you down on the countertop. A small squeak escapes from your chest, a sound that Joel finds adorable. He flashes a subtle grin and begins to wet your toothbrush, dabbing on the toothpaste. He shuffles between your thighs and thumbs your mouth open to start brushing your teeth. His actions brought you comfort, making you feel cherished and cared for. Even though you could have done it yourself, witnessing Joel display his nurturing side was touching. You longed to see more of this aspect of him, silently promising to be well-behaved with every passing minute.

"Alright, babydoll," he says as pats your thighs lovingly and rinses off your toothbrush after instructing you to lean over the sink and spit out the minty froth. "Now, get your butt back to your room and lean over the bed, panties off."

Joel notices the confusion spark in your eyes before it manifests in the furrowing of your brows. Your lips part to question him, but the words become stuck in your throat as his eyes darken and he gives a subtle shake of his head, tutting softly to himself.

"And here I thought you were goin' to start listening to me," he lets out a dark chuckle before invading your space with his strong chest pressing against yours. The force of the action causes your back to crash against the mirror, your head striking the glass while the sink spout presses into your lower back, causing discomfort and pain.

He bares his teeth just barely as he gets in your face, nostrils flaring and eyebrows furrowing, the storm brewing wildly in his eyes. Joel laughs gruffly as your eyes widen and you put your hands up in front of your body against his chest to protect yourself from his unpredictability. Oh, how cute. You were shaking under his hold like a frightened little bunny. Joel presses you harder against the mirror, no doubt forcing the sink spout deeper into your back. He grumbles pleasantly under his breath. He was causing this terrible fear clear as day on your face. The blooming bruises on your body are caused by his hands. The finger shaped bruises looked like a work of art on your delicate skin.

"Oh, babydoll," his breath fans across your face. He gives you a mocking pout, hushing you softly when the tears spill. "You're makin' it real hard not to paint that ass black and blue, you know that?"

Your bottom lip trembles and your body quivers, eyes shutting tightly as you mentally prepare yourself for Joel's next action. Tears spill and disappear underneath your aching jaw. He wipes them away at first, but when they keep sliding down, he wipes a tear-stained thumb across your lips before pushing the appendage deeper into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue.

"D'you taste that?" He asks you so quietly that you almost missed it. He's looking at his thumb between your lips and bites down on his own. Joel gazes into your wide eyes, which stare back at him as if he were the boogeyman. In a way, he is. "That's the taste of fear, sweetheart. Don't it taste fuckin' delicious?" The laugh he lets out is depraved, deranged, and delirious. With his thumb still in your mouth, he uses the other fingers to wrap under your chin before using that grip to force your head to move up and down roughly. "That's what I thought. Now, I ain't going to ask you again, babydoll. Take your ass back to your room and take off your fuckin' panties. When I get back, you better be leaning over the edge or so fuckin' help me God."

The mere threat was sufficient to send you scuttling down the hallway, pushing past Joel in a rush to get to your room. He watches you do so with a sadistic smile on his face. To see you react in such a way has him so fucking hard in his jeans. He cups a hand over the thickness and squeezes. There was a brief warmth pooling in his groin, and he let out a husky moan before his hand falls away. In due time, he silently tells himself.

Shaking, stuttering breaths were muffled in the bedding. You did exactly as you were told. The tips of your toes just barely skimming the rug, you were leant over the edge of the bed with your panties pooled at your ankles. One of your hands had blindly reached across the bed to grab onto your stuffed animal to curl an arm around it and press it against your side. The only comforting thing you can have at this moment that can hopefully ease the unsettling anxiety that won't go away.

Uncertain of how much time has passed, it might have been five minutes, ten, or perhaps even an hour. You caught a fleeting sound of Joel entering the room to retrieve your plate, then he left, securing the door with a lock behind him.

Long stretches of silence enveloped you, allowing the sound of your own heartbeat to echo mercilessly in your ears. It was a fleeting moment of tranquility before Joel determined his next move. In this stillness, sleep nearly overtook you, the exhaustion from hours of weeping creeping up silently. Then, the door unlocks, knob slowly turning. The ominous creaking of your door opening has you tensing as you hold your breath.

The steady stomp of Joel's footsteps enters your room before the door is shut behind him. The sight of you in a position that he demanded from you was driving him fucking wild. Panties at your ankles and your cute ass on display, the hem of your dress stopping just at the middle of your cheeks. He can see your pussy nearly calling out for him to play with her. But he can't, not at this moment. He needs you to understand that your actions, done behind his back, were unacceptable. They were reckless and dangerous—just the thought of it is enough to make Joel feel like punching a wall over and over.

"Now, what am I goin' to do with you, babydoll?" The question is rhetorical. He knows what he's going to do to you, but you don't. Leaving you in the dark of where his mind runs wild, keeping you pure from his deranged, perverted thoughts was for your own good. He intends to maintain a safe distance to prevent any critical harm, beyond what has already been inflicted.

The sound of Joel's voice has your hips shifting, your pussy lips just barely parted to give him a show of your exposed clit poking out from the hood that protects the exposed nerve. As he gets closer, he can see your stuffed animal in a headlock under your arm. How cute and pathetic.

"I gotta say, honey," he starts talking, his voice humorless and no longer holding that warm tone he previously had when he walked in. "It was adorable you thought I was done with you tonight. I mean, you really thought Daddy locking you up here was all that he was goin' to do?"

Unsure if the question was rhetorical or not, you still answered in a breathy voice, "Y-Yes, Daddy."

A smile makes its way onto Joel's face. "Yes, Daddy," he mocks your high pitched, breathy voice. The act of him doing so caused an embarrassed flush to warm your cheeks and ears. To be mocked made you feel so small. But that's what you are to Joel; this tiny, little thing that is so easy to crush in his big hand.

His groin rests against your ass cheeks, both of his hands lifting your dress higher until it pools around your upper back, further exposing your naked body to his eager eyes. The rough denim of his jeans and the cold metal of his zipper pressing into your backside made you hiss under your breath. Joel's hands hold onto your hips, forcing your body further onto the bed until your toes are no longer skimming above the rug, your feet now only dangling a few inches up.

"That's more like it," he grunts quietly, biting down on the plump flesh of his body limp when he sees goosebumps erupt on your soft skin. So, so fucking soft and untainted. As one hand pins you down at your lower back, his other hand gently rubs across your left ass cheek. Barely glancing at you to make sure you're prepared for what's to come, Joel mutters, "Brace yourself, sweetheart."

Then, he thwacks his palm across your skin. The force and strength of the smack made you cry out in surprise and pain. He smacks your other cheek with the same force. He does it again and again, back and forth, back and forth. Your legs kick behind you as fiery warmth blossoms along your backside. Your arm squeezes tighter around your stuffed bunny as you blindly reach a hand behind you to cover your bottom. Joel was quick to grab your wrist to pin it at your lower back.

He doesn't fucking stop spanking you. Not even when his own handprint is starting to show on your skin. He grunts with every thwack of his hand across your sensitive flesh. The cries that are forced out of you were music to his ears. Your backside feels like it's on fire underneath his wide palm; he doesn't know when to stop or ease up. The frustration and irritation from earlier were slowly making their way into Joel's mind.

"Bad." Smack. "Bad." Smack. "Fuckin'." Smack. "Girl."

Joel grunts like an animal as the smacks happen in quick succession. You're wailing into the covers, feet kicking weakly as you try so desperately to wiggle away from him. He won't stop. The pain is indescribable. It burns so badly, throbbing non-stop and feeling like a million needles are being stabbed into your skin. Your throat hurts from your pain-filled wails that are muffled into your bedding.

He's panting heavily and sweating. Wiping a forearm across his forehead, Joel removes his hands from your body, tilting one hand to the side to observe your marked ass. His handprints are on your skin, clear as day. He can feel the blazing heat radiating from your backside. But again, he's not done with you yet. And he tells you just that.

"Quit your fuckin' whinin'," he orders, both hands lowering to his thick leather belt to undo it from the hoops of his jeans. "We're not done until I say we're done." He folds the leather and snaps it together, the resounding sound causing you to cry harder in the sheets.

You learned your lesson. You know that you've been a bad girl. You know this. But the words fail to emerge, your voice and mouth unable to coordinate effectively enough to communicate with Joel. A tumult of emotions rages through your violently trembling body: fear, confusion, intense pain, and fatigue.

Folded, thick leather smacking against tender, angry skin is what forces a scream to erupt from your throat. With your bunny discarded, both hands desperately grab at your bedsheets to pull you away from Joel and his offending belt. You can faintly hear him sucking his teeth before one of his hands roughly yanks you back down by the back collar of your dress.

"Cry as much as you want to, babydoll!" he shouts through your pained wails. Then, the belt strikes across your ass repeatedly. Joel was barely giving you time to breathe through your tears and dribbling snot and drool that slides down your chin. "Kick all you want! Daddy ain't stopping!"

He lowers the position of the belt so that he can strike the back of your thighs as well. You're sure that after tonight, you won't be able to sit or speak for a very long time, for your vocal cords are nearly shattered from how hard and loud you were screaming, and Joel's hands and belt are bruising your backside. You're wishing that this torture will end. You're wishing that Joel will stop and hold you while you cry in his arms like a blubbering baby. Stop. Stop. Stop.

"Stop!" You screamed and screamed, both hands desperately reaching back to cover your backside. Everything burns. Everything feels like it's on fire. The pain only intensified when Joel tossed his belt aside and resorted to the palm of his hand again. "Please, please, stop, p-please!" Your speech now slurred and unrecognizable from thick tears, your hands claw at Joel's wrist, his hand wrapped around both of your own wrists to pin at your lower back again.

Only then does Joel snap out of it.

He's breathing so heavy that an innocent bystander would think that he was having a panic attack. Joel looks down at his creation and finally pulls his hand off of your wrists. Your arms go limp at your sides; you don't even bother trying to cover yourself. He looks at your backside, his thumb gently wiping away some blood that dotted around broken skin that was caused by his belt. He hums thoughtfully, bringing his thumb to his lips and licking your blood from the tip. In a day or two, your ass was going to be badly bruised and marked, all thanks to him.

"Such a sweet girl," he whispers, leaning down to press his nose behind your ear and inhaling deeply. Your body violently shakes underneath his chest. His groin is crushed against your horribly bruised ass, the pressure of it making you cry weakly, all the energy suddenly drained from you once he stopped abusing your ass.

Glancing down at his hard cock, now thick and pressing uncomfortably into his thigh, Joel decided now would be a good time for you to make him feel good. Though he knows you're not up for it, he doesn't fucking care. A darkness lurks within his mind, akin to an alter ego that commandeers his body, a monster in its purest form. This other facet of him is sadistic, vicious, and relentless. With you, it's so easy to fall into this second body. It's addicting. He can't stop, even if he knows this is wrong.

With a hoarse grunt, Joel grabs the back of your arms and yanks you off the bed to drop you down onto your knees. With a hand under your chin to keep your face pointed up to him, his other hand unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down, along with his underwear. He pushes both offending fabrics mid-thigh, sighing with satiated relief when his cock slaps up, nearly poking you in the eye.

You could hardly pay attention. Your eyes were unfocused and hazy, swollen lips parted to inhale and exhale shakily. You were so deep in another world that Joel had to roughly shake your head to bring you back down the earth. Unsure of why you feel so dizzy, you tried focusing on the pain in your backside that was still throbbing relentlessly, the burning fire now sizzling into a numb sensation.

"Tongue out," Joel demands roughly as he holds your hair into a makeshift ponytail with one hand as the other holds the base of his cock to tap his leaking tip against your lips.

Hearing his order, you look up at him with tear-filled eyes and do as you're told. You don't even know what exactly you're doing, but all you can hear in your mind is be a good girl and listen to him. Your eyes almost cross as you get a better look of his cock, and they widen comically. God, Joel was really long and thick. You wondered if all men were this size. It was intimidating to look at. You don't know if even less than half could fit in your mouth, let alone inside of you. Joel observes the revelation in your eyes and drops his left into a wink.

"Careful with your teeth, baby," his voice was gruff and strained, his mushroomed tip throbbing against your lips as his heavy balls tighten from the warmth pooling intensely in his groin. "Yeah, just like that."

His praise was something that you desperately needed tonight. Forgetting about the unrelenting abuse you endured on your backside, you can make it up to him by showing you that yes, you really are a good girl, and you will listen to him and do what you're told.

When you take too long to give Joel what he wants, he decides to take charge in one way that he knows how. Both hands grab either side of your head, forcing it to stay still as he shoves half of his cock into your mouth. Your eyes widened and you sputtered sloppily around his dick, your hands frantically fisting his jeans at his thighs. He grunts and groans, sweat pooling behind his neck and sliding down the line of his back.

"Goddamn," he hissed under his breath, moving his hips forward and back to start fucking your mouth with a brutal pace that has his balls slapping against your wet chin. "Born natural, ain't ya?"

Coughing and choking around his cock, you gagged and dry heaved as his thickness fills your mouth repeatedly. Spit dribbles down your chin and slides down your chest as you bite back the bile pooling in the back of your throat. Joel's breathing stutters for a split second at the sight below him. Your lips were obscenely stretched around his girth, eyes wide and glassy with thick tears just waiting to spill over. The sloppy, wet noises coming from your mouth nearly made him bust right in your mouth.

"Let me try somethin'," Joel mumbles to himself before roughly grabbing the back of your head and forcing your head all the way down until your nose and lips were crushed against his dark public hair. The contractions of your throat squeezing around his cock has him moaning gruffly at the ceiling, his head thrown back, Adam's apple bobbing in time with each moan that comes out.

Taking advantage of Joel's lax state, your nails dig into the thick meat of his thighs to push yourself off of him. His cock slips from your lips, strings of spit connecting from the enlarged tip to your puffy lips. You're coughing and dry heaving, your throat burning terribly. Joel looks down and grins wolfishly.

His hand languidly strokes his soaking cock. The sight of you struggling from his size was an image he wanted to engrave in his mind so he can watch it over and over again. He liked seeing you struggle. Hell, he fucking craves to see it again. Without giving you any time to prepare, he grabs the back of your head to force you down onto his cock once more.

The sopping wet choking sounds that are emitting from your throat are driving him insane. He wonders what would happen if he just...

Both hands roughly grab your head to yank you down until his cock goes down your throat again. This time, he keeps you there for a few, long, grueling seconds. You're sputtering wildly, eyes wide with terror as tears spill over your waterline. Your fists are weakly punching at his thighs, and you try to pull your head back, but Joel only crushes your head harder into his pelvis until your nose is pressed so deep into his pubic hair.

Joel grunts like a wild beast. "Just like that. Fuckin' choke on it." He sees your lashes flutter weakly, your eyes half-lidded and rolling into the back of your head. The lack of oxygen to your brain has your heart slowing dramatically. This is your death. Yeah, this is definitely how you're going to die: choking on Joel Miller's dick, also your mom's husband.

Suddenly, your head is pulled off and you're gasping for air like it's the last thing on earth. Your head is spinning and you're doubling over until your forehead is almost touching Joel's boots. Your throat burns and you can barely feel your tongue. This wasn't supposed to be happening. This is all your fault. You deserve this punishment. Bad girl. Bad, bad, bad girl. Slowly rocking yourself back and forth, you sniffle softly and take a weak glance up at him. A shadow almost casts over your face from where you kneeled, his long cock perfectly aligned below the ceiling light.

Joel bends down to lift you higher on your knees. His big hands gently hold your cheeks, and your eyes shut as this is the first tender touch you've felt in hours. You savor this moment, sniffling again and licking your bottom lip. Joel smiles sweetly, lowering his head to kiss your forehead, nose, and then your lips. A sweet little whimper reverberates against his lips. When he pulls away, he quietly instructs you to open your eyes, babydoll.

When you do, you're met with sweet, nice, tender Joel again. Have you really made it to the end of your punishment? Are you his good girl again? Is this really it? The moment doesn't last long. The smile on Joel's face vanishes gradually slowly. There's a sick feeling that returns back inside your stomach. This is going to be never-ending. This is your well-deserved punishment. Pain, pain, pain.

When Joel purses his lips, you flinch when a wad of spit lands on across the bridge of your nose and slides down your cheeks prettily. Your eyes open and your mouth drops. This was the most demeaning thing for him to do. Spitting on your face is a clear indication that you're nothing more than a personal toy for Joel to use. This whole entire night was of him showing you what you mean to him. The thought added a crack to your heart. All you ever wanted was to be good.

Joel's fingers filthily rub his spit all over your face, a crude smile on his face as he does so. His middle and index fingers are shoved into your mouth, the pads of his fingertips covered in his slick and are now laying against your wiggly tongue. "There we go," he breathes out, gently prodding his fingers further down your throat until they brush against your uvula, causing you to gag and sputter.

You barely have enough time to react before he's yanking his fingers from your mouth and landing a smack to your cheek. It almost sends you flying to the side if it weren't for his hand holding onto the other side of your face. Joel hushes you quietly when your eyes shut tightly, fire spreading across your face.

"This is for your own good, babydoll," he whispers against your forehead, pulling away to pop your cheek again, and then landing another smack to your other cheek. He shushes your pained cries again, giving you a messy, tongue-filled kiss. You can't stop crying against his mouth, snot, spit, and tears all over your face. The anguish won't diminish. It gets stronger and stronger the more Joel breaks you apart little by little.

His hands curl into your hair, tightening into fists and yanking your head back a few inches from his face. His eyes darken as he sees the fear in your beautifully broken eyes. He spits on your face once more, trailing his eyes over the artistic splatter across your nose and cheeks. His cock, still rock hard and soaking wet, hangs out of his jeans.

Joel is a patient man. In due time, you and he will finally become one. Whether you liked it or not, you were his--his to use, his to play with, his to destroy. You don't have a voice anymore. Joel Miller broke you apart with his bare hands and left you scrabbling to pick up the pieces.

taglist:

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @heyhihello-4771 @blueberrypancakesworld @codenamekitten @natalieispunk @koshkaj-blog @giowritess @beardropascal @pascaltesfaye @callmeafra @nexy00 @josephquinnswhore @baronessvonglitter @peelieblue @paanchusblog @b3bybunny @sugadolly @ktluvsmen @elliesr1fle @taeslarityy @yourgirljasmin444 @laloestoyvivo @aquanatalie @vickie5446 @cowboybootjoel @olicity-boo @ashleyfilm @withakindheartx @puduvallee @psychoenergy @chuutzuyu

[trashmouth-richie]

➶ pt 1 1/2: DULEX (the gnat) a mid/prequel || emperor geta x reader

➶ 18+ smut 🥀 this takes place somewhere after reader meets caracalla and geta the first night she comes to Palatine Hill and where part one ended.

➶pt i: dulci ut rosa {sweet as a rose🥀 } pt ii: vitiosus + deliciosus

pt iii: frangere me 🥀 pt iv: ad caelum vel infernum, tecum sum

Licking up the hot spend that threatened to spill from your lips, you looked up at your Emperor. Your knees had gotten used to the stone floor, the sand no longer bothering you as it cut through your skin. Geta’s groans were low and guttural, every time. They never swayed, and neither did you as he pumped your mouth full every night. 

His chin was tilted upward giving you a clear view of his thick neck. It resembled a tree trunk, a knob in the center where it bobbed with satisfaction, veining with cords that would tighten when he denied himself the pleasure of release. Some nights were longer than others, but they all started and ended the same way. 

You told him every detail of what Caracalla had said during your evenings with him. Even the minute details of what he nibbled on during the vesperna, which was mostly fish, sucking the bones between his teeth and then using it as a tool to dig out the tender flesh between his gums. 

Geta sometimes laughed at the things you told him. Other times he was angry, brooding beneath that glorious wave of honeypot curls. 

Tonight, he didn’t ask for the secrets immediately on his arrival. Gets simply looked you over from head to toe, and when his eyes finished their feast he turned, cocking his head for you to follow him. 

He walked with hands behind his back as he strolled an inch ahead of you, so close that if your hands and his were loose, they’d touch. He showed you around the palace, paintings with various strokes of colors making up different frescoes along the great walls. All of which made up the Roman Gods. Apollo and Diana in one showcasing the sun and the moon. Neptune, riding a massive stallion, a hurricane in his wake. 

It was exquisite, the different materials used to makeup each piece was fascinating. Geta admired silently, and when he spoke in his native language, you were surprised.

Latin was becoming less and less common, but when he spoke, it rolled off his tongue in eloquence. Pure, unbroken, seductive. Flowing in a way you hadn’t heard in years. You could listen to him for hours.

Further down another corridor led to a great display of busts of Emperors before himself. He paused at one that looked fairly new, the marble uncracked and pristine. Geta, moved his fingers along the base of the heavy stone uttering quietly, “pater meus.”

You stood before the behemoth looking alter, taking in the intricate carvings of the handsome face, one that looked nearly identical to the man staring back at it. Turning towards him you managed,  “Ita, Quomodo mortuus est?” 

A ripple of shock wove like a needle across his face. Geta looked at you before you spoke, “mortuus est ex morbo.” It was no secret that Caracalla and Geta’s father fell ill and died unexpectedly. 

Still, you’d never lost someone close to you before. 

“Me paenitet,” you whispered. Even though Geta was a strange man to understand, you were still sorry for his loss. Emperor Septimius Severus was a great man, powerful and demanding to those around him, but still loved by Rome. 

Geta looked at you with narrowed eyes, “death isn’t feared by warriors, only those who are weak are afraid of what lies beyond our world.” 

He looked as if he would say something else, but he never did, only jerking his head as if to shrug clear his mind before turning on his heel walking quickly the way you came. This time, he walked further ahead of you, his feet slapping the marble floor as he went.  A rolling sensation spurring in his nerves. 

Geta had times of showing brute strength, other times he was almost kind to you, a friend perhaps. But his mind seem to change like the direction of the wind, like he pushed down anything that could possibly make him happy, make him let go.

“Tell me what he’s done on this day,” he suddenly ordered over his shoulder, his voice back to the bark it usually had, “from first light to his chamber.” 

Stumbling over your words you began the lengthy, and extremely boring explanation of how Caracalla had spent his day. Before you could finish and before getting to the closed off corridor, Geta grabbed your arm pulling you down past the massive stone pillars. Into the open.

The humid air hung thick and wet on your skin. The moon was draped with clouds, a poor night for prey. With his finger pointing to the dirt, he motioned for you to kneel, and you looked at him startled. Out here, anyone could see you and report your trickery to one of the generals or worse, to Caracalla. 

Raising his eyebrows in protest, the pieces of the puzzle  seemed to fit as he assembled your hesitation, “No one will see your whore mouth as I fuck it, they are all tucked into their beds, or drunk.” 

Nodding curtly, you obey, slinking to your knees, only to be stopped by his hand and brought back to standing before him. A look you couldn’t place was etched onto his features, as if he was fighting himself in his head, holding himself back. 

Geta had been pissed beyond belief after visit his father’s busy. All he could do was be reminded of how his father left him here to rule with his brother. Caracalla wasn’t fit to be an Emperor. He was barely fit to be anything more than a wet dog. 

Rage had filled his head as he stomped back to the hallway that was tainted with his moans and the slurp of your gags. He wanted to brutalize your mouth, maybe he’d end up knocking out one of your teeth, or bruise your throat so terribly that you couldn’t swallow anything but liquid for a weeks.

But now as you stood before him, he suddenly felt a sense of calm. Geta was always sure of what he wanted, what he desired. Since your arrival, you somehow seemed to put his maddening thoughts at ease. Just seeing your eyes and the way the suffocated moon shone in them… he couldn’t keep this act up much longer. 

“Don’t… don’t move just yet,” he nearly whispered, releasing your arm and moving his fingers across your collarbone. His thumb outlined the marrow beneath the skin, and he moved to the curve of your jaw before placing the pads of his fingers on your lips.

He was right. They felt like the most expensive silk gold could buy, and for the first time in Geta’s life, he wanted to feel them on his own. 

He’d fucked practically all the women of Rome, yet he never allowed them touch him in that way. But watching your lips move when you spoke the native tongue back to him made his cock jump, and his chest tighten. They moved in such a seductionous manner he felt as though he was in a trance. Your voice hypnotized him, your lips the object of his innermost desires.

Without thinking anymore of it, Geta leaned in, aligning his lips to yours, as he melted on the hot humid night beneath the Gods and anyone else to witness— he melted into his first actual kiss. As he pulled away from you, a delicate humming noise tickled his eardrum, a pestering sound, barely audible, something he’d been hearing more and more frequently…

-🔆part 3 is already being written besties

latin translation:

dulex— gnat

pater meus— my father

Ita, Quomodo mortuus est?— yes, how did he die?

mortuus est ex morbo— he died from an illness

me paentit— i’m sorry

☻ taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @fallout-girl219 @hellfireadmin @all-will-be-well-love @anythinggoesemily

@eddiesguitarskills @prestinalove @palomahasenteredthechat @wiltinglovers @razzeith

@workingwndrz @probablyin-bed @songforeddiemunson

[starlightxsvt]

VERDICT | sibilance. FINAL

synopsis ➳ you have found your way back to each other but that doesn't mean it is smooth sailing from now on. wonwoo's father is still trying to get him married and you have a decision to make. pairing ➳ rich badboy!wonwoo x lawyer fem!reader genre ➳ fluff, romance, smut. word count ➳ 13k warnings ➳ cursing, some mentions of food and eating, jealousy, reader is insecure at some point, jeonghan being a brat, a smidge of drama, brief angst in the sense of longing and regret, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, female oral, multiple orgasms, big dic wonu, creampie, soft sex.

previous chapter | series masterlist

The soft clutter of utensils and cupboards being opened and closed occupies the otherwise silent atmosphere inside Wonwoo’s house. You sit in the living room and watch with slight amusement as he moves about rather clumsily. You never thought making a cup of tea could be such a challenging task but as you watch Wonwoo scramble in the kitchen, you almost start to believe he is preparing a three course meal in there.

Gingerly, the man turns his head back, as if to check whether you are looking at him and once he sees that you are, in fact, he whips his head around and observes the boiling kettle with acute fascination. 

You suppress a smile and take a sip of water from the tall mug he gave you five minutes ago. 

His place is neat and tidy, taking you by surprise because the last time you were here, it was easy to think that a racoon broke in and rummaged through everything. 

The pillows on the couch and the centrepiece on the coffee table are neatly placed. The cream coloured carpet is straight and clean, looking freshly vacuumed and spotless. There are even a bunch of new books sitting on his bookshelf which you remember was previously almost empty and dusty, full of random nicknacks. Most astonishingly, you spot plants throughout his space, whether fake or real you are not sure but the green adds a tasteful pop of colour to the house. 

“Here you go.” Wonwoo murmurs, setting down your steaming cup of tea on a coaster. 

Then he awkwardly stands next to you, wringing his hands and watching you with nervous, careful eyes. You pick up the cup and the steam immediately fogs your glasses, helping you establish that the tea is still too hot to drink.

You set it down. “Have a seat.” You point to the velvet, cushiony chair opposite to you and he obliges immediately. He sits down and starts wiping his head with the damp towel around his neck, rubbing a single spot repeatedly as his eyes remain downcast, fixed on the floor. His acting reminds you of the naughty boys in your school when they were summoned in front of the principal and you find it quite amusing.

“Thank you for the dinner.” You start, deeming the topic a good conversation starter. “Mr. Pi told us that it was your treat. You really didn’t have to but thank you.”

“Oh.” He finally meets your eyes, his movement jittery. “No, it was really nothing. You guys worked hard. You deserved it.”

You smile. “Everyone had a great time. Jeonghan ordered a lot of food. He was out to drain your card. He even took some side dishes home.”

You don’t miss the way his face falls immediately at the mention of Jeonghan. “I see,” he supplies and goes back to staring at the ground.

A silence settles between the two of you. You watch him sit and fiddle with the towel, one of his legs bouncing up and down nervously.

“You are starting next week, right?” You ask, hoping to bring some life back in him.

His head jerks up. “Huh? Yeah. Next week.”

“I heard you are not using your father’s office.”

“No. I never liked that place. It comes with too many memories I wish to forget.” He explains quietly. 

“It’s always good to start fresh. So you’re leaving that empty for now?”

He nods.

Another beat of silence.

You reach for your tea and take a slow sip.

This is getting a bit too awkward. You have never seen Wonwoo like this; so out of place, so nervous and spooked. He is acting like he murdered your dog and you are about to punish him for that. Maybe, you should just cut to the chase. It is clear he won’t say anything, so you might as well speak your part and clear things out.

“So,” you begin, setting the cup down. “The reason why I’m here—”

“I didn’t think you would make your decision so quickly,” Wonwoo interrupts, his voice coated with a nervous edge. He looks at you, his pupils slightly dilated and his face paler than usual. “I mean…you are free to do however you want to…I just…I just thought I might have a c-chance this time, you know?” He swallows and licks his lips, his eyes bouncing around the room nervously. 

“I know how awful I was to you and still…I don’t know, I was clinging onto the hope that you would take me back even out of pity. I…imagined this moment hundreds of times. I…I thought you would tell me to go fuck myself over a text but it’s nice of you to come see me and break it to my face. I’m just…I’m just not ready I guess…” He trails off, his nervous rant coming to an end.

“You did not even hear what I have to say.” You raise an amused brow at him.

“Right.” He drops the towel on the floor and rubs his palms over his thighs. “Give it to me.”

You pause, carefully watching him before uttering. “Let’s start again, Wonwoo. One last time.”

Wonwoo blinks and then remains unmoving in his place, so still that one can easily mistake him for a statue. You wait and watch him, eager and amused for his next words.

You see his throat bob as he swallows and finally breaks off eye contact with you.

“You…you really mean it?” His voice comes out thick and scratchy almost like he is on the verge of tears. 

“Yes, I do.”

A sudden burst of laughter escapes his lips, the sound short and abrupt before he rests his elbows on his thighs and hangs his head low, staring at the ground in pure awe. “I…” He shakes his head. “Thank you.” His eyes meet yours, bright and shining with unshed tears. “Fuck…thank you. I promise to treat you right this time.”

You offer him a reassuring smile. He returns it, a bit wobbly at first before it grows, puffing up his cheeks and making his eyes form crescents. 

“Let’s take it slow this time.” You state, taking a sip of your tea. “Let’s get to know each other all over again. Slowly but steadily.”

He sits up straight and shakes his head with a determined nod. “Yes, of course. You call the shots this time. We will go at your pace.” He stops, watching you with a fond gaze. As an afterthought, he softly adds, “I am really very sorry about my behaviour so far. I have been foolish and immature about everything in my life. Now that I know how much you mean to me…how much all of this means to me…I will not let you down this time. I will not fuck this up.”

“I believe you won’t.” You reassure with a smile.

You finish your tea in a comfortable silence.

Soon after, Wonwoo drives you home. His car zooms down the empty streets of the city as you two sit next to each other, silent but comfortable. Soft tunes from the radio fill the car while you admire the view out your window, finding this boring, familiar city suddenly wondrous and full of colour. 

You feel like yourself after a long while, nothing weighing heavily on your chest and you can breathe freely. You glance at Wonwoo beside you and he does the same and when your eyes meet, the two of you break into a smile. 

—

The first week of your vacation goes by slowly but cozily at your parents' place in your hometown. Far from the hectic morning schedules of checking emails and going through hundreds of pages of case files, you stroll around your village, enjoying the greenery around you and the sunlight on your skin. You eat meals with your parents, help your mom with the household work, accompany your dad with his gardening and then sit by the nearby river and watch the children play as the sun goes down on the western sky. 

Your phone, which used to buzz with notifications every other minute, now remains mostly silent, except for certain times, like mornings and nights. Every morning, you wake up to a good morning text from Wonwoo, and at night, you receive a good night text. He asks you about your day and in return you ask about his, smiling at your phone at the simple, otherwise mundane words sent from him.

Despite being physically far away from him, you realize you feel closer and more connected to him than when you lay next to him. 

On the third day of your stay in your hometown, a package arrives early in the morning. 

Your attention from the TV is disrupted when you see your mom enter the dining space with a huge and expensive looking fruit basket in her hands. The confusion on her face makes you get up from your spot on the floor and observe the basket carefully.

It comes with a handwritten note that says, 

Dear ___,

A little gift for you and your family. I hope they enjoy it and I hope you have a good time at home. 

Love,

W

You try hard to stifle a silly smile. 

“Who is it from?” Your mother asks, opening the basket. “This does not come in cheap.”

“Oh, it’s from my boss.” You reply. “It's just a gift. I worked hard the past few months so he wants me to enjoy it with you guys.”

“How nice of him! I didn’t know bosses so nice existed any more.”

You only smile, helping your mom to take out the wide assortment of fruits. Once you are back in your room, you send a quick text to Wonwoo.

You: Thank you for the fruit basket. My mom really likes it.

His reply comes immediately.

Wonwoo: Don’t mention it. It was my pleasure. I want you to have a good time.

You: It was a thoughtful gesture. And don’t worry, I am having a good time.

Wonwoo: I am glad to hear it then. Let me know if you need anything.

You: Okay. Have a good day at work.

Wonwoo: Now that you texted me, I will have a great day ;)

Like a lovestruck fool, you grin at your screen.

—

The second week of your vacation passes as you organize your apartment and declutter all the junk that has piled up. In the evenings, you catch up with friends, visit cafes and restaurants, and go on a shopping spree before returning home for a peaceful sleep.

Wonwoo and you have fallen into a routine now. Other than random texts throughout the day, a voice call at night has become mandatory for you. He has been calling you every night after you get into bed and it is almost embarrassing how easily you fall asleep while listening to his voice over the phone. 

“When can I take you out on a date?” He asks randomly on a Friday night as you lay in bed and twirl your hair, staring at your ceiling.

“I don’t know.” You reply teasingly. You hear him sigh. 

“Are you really coming back to work this Monday?” He questions after a pause.

“Yes, I am.” “Take a longer break. Seriously.”

You release a sigh. “I have done all that I wanted to do for this break. I am honestly looking forward to returning. I miss my office.”

“Said no one ever.” Wonwoo huffs, making you laugh.

“Plus,” you grin even though he cannot see it. “I look forward to experiencing my first-ever office romance.”

You hear a short burst of laughter and you imagine Wonwoo’s face. 

“Well, then I need to give you enough work so that you visit my office every day.”

“How cruel of you.” You mock. “How can you do that to your over worked girlfriend?”

Wonwoo laughs which is followed by silence.

You observe the night sky from your bed, marveling at the beauty of the twinkling stars in the dark sky in the quiet solitude of the night. Wonwoo softly calls your name.

“Hm?” You hum.

“I am so lucky to have you.” His soft voice floats through the speaker. “I sometimes can’t believe you are my girlfriend now. Thank you, truly, for choosing me.”

His words make your heart soar, pounding loudly in your ribcage and you smile into your pillow.

“Quite a romantic, aren’t you, Mr. Jeon?”

He chuckles, the sound deep and throaty, sending tingles all through your body. Suddenly, you wish he was next to you so that you could kiss him.

“Only for you.” He replies, making your grin broader. 

—

You did not expect to be greeted by a huge bouquet of roses when you entered your office after your break. You stand on the threshold of your office, your mouth agape because of the bright red roses sitting on your desk and one of your co-workers sitting nearby takes notice of your shock.

“It came about fifteen minutes ago. A delivery man left it.” She explains. “The sender was anonymous. We were so curious we had to ask.” She adds sheepishly. 

You awkwardly chuckle at her words. 

Who could it be?

Shutting the door behind you, you drop your coat and bag and rush straight to the bouquet, smelling the sweet, heady scent of the flowers. They look even more beautiful up close, bright red and shiny and you cannot help a giddy smile of excitement. As you take the bouquet and carefully observe it, you find a pastel pink card stuck near the bottom of the stems. 

Immediately, you snatch it and pry it open. 

Welcome back. Thank you for another chance. Here is to new beginnings. 

Love, W

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the goofy smile spreading on your lips.

“Damn, who got you smiling like that?” Jeonghan bursts open through the door, ruining your moment.

“Ugh, Jeonghan!” You glare at the man, folding the note and stuffing it in your pocket.

He strolls in. “That is not how you greet me after not seeing me for two weeks.” He eyes the roses with a smirk. “I see we have a loverboy in our hands.” You roll your eyes. 

Jeonghan leans closer to your face and wiggles his eyebrows. “Looks like you two have…” he makes a suspicious gesture with his hands by slowly intertwining them, “reconciled in your break.”

This man, you swear to god. 

Ignoring him, you gently set aside the bouquet on your coffee table and fish out your phone from your pocket. “Shouldn’t you be asking how my vacation went?”

“Why bother with that when I can clearly see how good it went.” He grins suggestively.

“Gosh, you’re so annoying. Don’t you have any work to do?”

He pouts. “I just wanted to welcome you back. Also for your information, yes I do. With you gone Mr. Pi was stuck on me all day. Do you know how many cases I’m working on at the same time?”

“Mhmm.” You try to pay attention to his words while typing a message to Wonwoo.

Thank you for the roses. They are absolutely stunning.

Jeonghan, noticing your lack of response, leans over your shoulder to peek at your screen. “Ugh.” He makes a noise of disgust, waving his hand dismissively. “I cannot believe you’re choosing hoes over bros.”

You set your phone down. “I can see you’re as dramatic as before, bro.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, ready for a comeback with a snarky reply when his phone starts ringing. With a dejected sigh, he pulls it out of his pocket, heading for the door and casually pulling out a flower from your bouquet on his way. He grins, waving the flower at you and smoothly slips out of your room, leaving your mouth open. 

Gosh, he can be such a brat sometimes.

Your phone vibrates just then and you immediately unlock it to read Wonwoo’s message. 

My pleasure, love. They are not half as beautiful as you but I’m glad it made you happy.

You keep smiling goofily at your screen.

—

A shocking email waits for you in your inbox when you get to work on Tuesday morning. 

It is from secretary Yu, informing you that you have been selected for a promotion. If you accept, you will be the deputy head of the legal team of Jeon Industries. The email states you have two days to think it over and a response is expected before the meeting on Thursday.

You are blown out of the water.

For many long moments, you think you are reading it wrong and then for another good minute, you think it is addressed to the wrong person.

Once you realize none of that is true and this is in fact, reality, your hands fly to your gaping mouth. You scramble to find your phone and immediately dial Wonwoo who picks up on the third ring. 

“Hey there. Good morning.” He greets you warmly.

“Wonwoo—” You stop, struggling to arrange your thoughts. “Did you…did you recommend me for a promotion?”

“What? No.” It's hard to gauge his tone through the phone.

“Wonwoo, be serious.”

“I am. I didn’t!” There is a short pause. “Wait— did you get a promotion?” He almost yells.

“Apparently,” you murmur, staring at your computer. “I just saw Secretary Yu’s email.”

“What does it say?”

“I am chosen to be the next deputy head of your legal team.”

Silence.

“Holy shit.” He breathes. “Congratulations, sweetheart! You deserve it. I promise I had nothing to do with this.”

“Thank you. I…I just can’t believe it. It seems unreal.”

“Trust me, you deserve it so much.”

“I think your father is behind this.”

Wonwoo is quiet for a few beats. “I think you’re right. Well, this is the only decision of his I fully support and agree with.”

You smile, shaking your head at his words. 

Looks like you have got a decision to make.

—

“You’re hiding something from me,” Jeonghan states pointedly as you two wait in front of the elevator, ready to clock out for the day.

You whip your head towards him who stands with his hands in his pockets, his eyes trained on the little screen showing the floor number on top of the doors.

“What makes you say that?” You ask, amused.

“So you are hiding something from me,” he stares at you. The elevator reaches your floor, opening with a soft ding and you step in, followed by Jeonghan. “What is it?” he asks as the doors close. You smile, humming.

“Oh come on!”

The doors reopen on the next floor and the empty elevator is suddenly overcrowded as a dozen of people flood in. You and your colleague are pushed to the very back, your backs pressed against the cold steel wall.

“I got a promotion.” You whisper to Jeonghan who stands next to you. He takes a second to register your words before his eyes widen and then, in the crowded, confined space, he yells, “What!”

Everyone turns to look at him. You avoid their gaze out of embarrassment, instead staring hard at your shoes, stifling a smile while being hyper aware that Jeonghan is drilling holes into your face with his eyes.

As soon as you are out of the elevator, Jeonghan blocks your way in a dramatic fashion. “Lawyer ___, you have got some explaining to do. Right now.”

“I’ve been selected as the deputy head of the legal team of Jeon Industries.”

His jaw falls slack. The next moment, he is engulfing you in a bear hug. “Congratulations! Fucking hell, I’m so happy for you! Wait…why did you keep this from me?” His face deadpans as he observes you carefully.

“I…I didn’t necessarily hide it from you.” You look down. “I’m just…still processing it. It feels too good to be true.” “Are you seriously doubting your capabilities right now? You’re the perfect person for the job. Hell, I don’t see why they did not make you the head.”

You laugh, shaking your head at his words.

“No, I’m serious! Don’t laugh!”

You nod, still smiling. Pushing your glasses up your nose, you look into his eyes. “Thank you Jeonghan. Seriously.”

“Well, a thank you won’t cut it,” he announces, heading towards the revolving doors, dragging you by your arm. “You need to treat me. Let’s go for some drinks.”

“I’m really sorry.” You stop. “I have plans.”

Jeonghan turns back, his eyes narrow. “Let me guess, with the billionaire, alpha hot CEO Mr. Jeon Wonwoo?”

You snicker, shoving him playfully. “Oh my god, you’re so annoying!”

He grins. “Is he coming to pick you up?”

“No, I’ll meet him at the park next block.”

“Ah, I see.” He nods. “Keeping it under the wraps now, eh? You don’t want to make it public?”

You immediately shake your head no. “You know how it is. He just became the CEO and a dating rumour would put him under even more speculation. Plus, we’re taking it slow this time. It’s still too early to announce anything.”

“Hmm, it’s a good call.” He reaches into his jacket, fishing for his keys. “Would you like me to drop you off over there?”

You chuckle, “It’s barely a five minute walk, Jeonghan.”

“Alright then. Have fun with your lover boy, I guess. You still owe me drinks!” He starts walking. “Also, don’t forget to use protection!” He yells out loud and purposefully, grinning like a gremlin at your horrified reaction. 

The lobby is fairly empty but you don’t miss the looks the few people around are giving you.

“Fuck you, Jeonghan! No drinks for you!” You yell back, face heated with mortification.

—

“I cannot believe we’re here doing this,” Wonwoo murmurs, staring at the tray of burger, fries and drinks on his lap. You pause in the middle of a bite of your burger to look at him. 

“I really thought I could get a reservation there.” he sighs, referring to the Michelin-star restaurant he wanted to take you to for dinner. “I wanted to celebrate your promotion with a seven course meal and here we are eating…burgers.”

You finish chewing your bite and then glance at him. “Wonwoo, seriously, this is great. I was craving fast food anyway. And you have to admit, this is much more fun. Getting drive through and eating in your car after work? I’ll take this over a fancy restaurant any day.”

Wonwoo looks at you, a soft smile blooming on his lips. 

You point your chin at his food. “Try the burger, seriously, it is so good.” You reach for your own, taking a quick sip of your drink and letting out a satisfied groan. The fizzy drinks and the greasy burger are a phenomenal combo.

“You look beautiful.” Wonwoo suddenly says, making you pause chewing your food and look at him, both startled and shy. His thumb brushes across your lower lip, wiping away the stain of sauce. He brings the finger to his lips, licking it clean while holding eye contact with you.

Your heart skips a beat and you immediately look away, feeling your face heat up. 

It feels like a thousand degrees in here suddenly. 

“I really missed you.” He murmurs, his voice tender and sweet, doing nothing but increasing the beat of your racing heart. You take a long gulp of your drink before meeting his soft gaze. In the dimly lit parking space, the artificial lights cast weird shadows on his face yet he has never looked this handsome, this ethereal, you realize. 

“I missed you too.” You whisper with a twinge of smile. “Two weeks turned out to be longer than I thought.”

He smiles. “It was long. Excruciatingly so.” He pauses. “Have you thought about the offer? You’re taking it right?”

“It sure is tempting.” You reply, going back to your food. With every bite you take, your hunger seems to increase tenfold. You briefly wonder what they put into this.

“If you are doubting yourself then please don’t.” Wonwoo places a soft hand on your thigh. “You are so talented and hardworking. More than anyone else, you deserve it. After all, no one handled my tantrums and all the troubles I caused better than you.”

You laugh, nodding. “That is true.” 

“Plus,” he leans closer to you. “We cannot have that office romance I was talking about if we are not in the same office.”

You meet his gaze. “Oh! You are right about that. But wait…are you trying to bribe me into taking the position?” You playfully narrow your eyes at him, popping a fry into your mouth. 

“You caught me there,” he grins before smirking at you. “Just think of all the fun things we could do at work.” He wiggles his brows suggestively.

“Jeon Wonwoo!” You throw a fry at him, laughing. He grins his signature foxy grin that sends your heart racing and butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

“But seriously,” You watch his expression shift as he pops the fry into his mouth before looking at you. “I know the new title will come with a lot of responsibilities. And I also understand that you will be leaving your colleagues behind so the scene will be unfamiliar to you at first. Still, I think you will smash this job. I was going to offer you a permanent position at my company anyway before I heard this.”

“Hmm, I wonder why.” You tease. “To do scandalous things at work with me?”

Wonwoo huffs but you don’t miss the smile creeping up on his lips. “I’m being serious, ____.”

You nod, wiping your fingers with the napkin. “I know. Thank you for your words, truly.” You place your hand on top of his knuckles. 

“I’m just speaking the truth.” He replies, holding your hand between his.

“Thank you, Wonwoo. For this—” you gesture at the food and the interior of his car, “for your kind words and for your support. Thank you.”

His lips touch your knuckles for a soft, sweet kiss. “It is my pleasure, always.” 

—

The meeting goes well on Thursday morning. You are surprised to find Chairman Jeon there along with Wonwoo, who wanted to officially introduce you as the deputy head to the entire team. After the meeting, you are shown a room, which is set to be your personal office from next week, located on the same floor as Wonwoo’s office and right next to Mr. Choi’s office, who is the most senior and head lawyer of the company.

That night, Mr. Pi takes you and some of your closest colleagues for drinks, treating it as an official goodbye party for you. He even sings two songs for you, crying his drunk heart out while saying goodbye and wishing you well while you and everyone else cringe in their seats, covering your ears. 

“I’ll miss you, seriously.” Jeonghan murmurs, staring at the ground as you both walk home after the drinks and deafening singing.

“I will too.” You sigh. “Come visit me often. We have meetings every week at the headquarters anyway.” He nods. “You know, I am so glad that I met you. It was so fun working with you for the last few months.”

You smile. “Same for me. Though you were really annoying sometimes, I will miss you, Lawyer Yoon.”

He grins. “Well, as my final show of respect for you, I shall escort you home tonight. Protect you from the dangers of the night.”

“Mhmm,” you smirk. “From stray dogs too? There are a few in the park by my apartment.” You watch his face for his reaction, knowing very well Jeonghan is afraid of dogs. He doesn’t like dogs and unsurprisingly, dogs don’t want him either.

“Well then, my lady,” Jeoghan says with mock seriousness, “you will have to fend for yourself.”

Your laughter echoes through the quiet air of the night. As you continue down your path home, you realize something. You have been smiling so much recently, more than ever before.

The revelation once again, makes you smile. 

—

The lobby of the Grand Hotel is slightly more crowded for a Saturday morning, you observe while sipping your coffee and waiting for your friend to come downstairs. A business convention is taking place in the hall room, which accounts for the men in suits and ties scrambling all over.

You are here to see an old friend from college who has settled abroad because of her career as a fashion designer. She is staying here and you are set to meet at the lobby before going on a shopping and eating spree. She rarely visits her homeland and now that she has, a reunion of the two of you was a must.

Your eyes skirting all over the huge lobby spot Rina before she spots you as you find her stepping out of the VIP elevators. Your hands spring up on their own out of excitement and you start waving them to gain her attention. She notices you immediately and with a squeal dashes to you and engulfs you in a hug.

Your conversations flow immediately as you two plop down on the plush sofas in the lobby, ordering some drinks for your throats which will soon be parched from all the talking and the laughing.

Rina shares about her life and work abroad and you talk about your work and your recent promotion. The topics flow smoother than the current of a river as you eagerly listen to every word your friend says, sipping your drink occasionally.

Until…

Until suddenly, your attention from your friend’s words is snatched away as you spot something in front of you. Something so serious it pries you away from the conversation you were so engaged in. 

About a hundred feet away from where you sit there are a group of people, two older men who you immediately recognize. One is Chairman Jeon and the other is President Lee, owner of the biggest textile industry in the country. Seeing them here is nothing out of the ordinary because today’s convention is arranged by Mr. Lee’s company and Chairman Jeon is a close friend of his, thus he is naturally attending. As they sit down, you spot a young girl next to Mr. Lee, appearing to be his daughter.

What catches your full attention and sends your heart racing, however, is the presence of Wonwoo, dressed formally in a grey suit and pants, who walks to the group, shakes hands with Mr. Lee and then sits next to his father, his back facing you.

Agitation crawls up your neck like a slithering snake as you watch the group talk, a bright smile plastered on the girl's face as she talks to Wonwoo. Then suddenly, it hits you like a ton of bricks.

It is Yuna Lee. 

Of course. Yuna Lee, the only daughter of Mr. Lee, the girl Chairman Jeon wants Wonwoo to marry.

A stuttered breath falls from your lips as you continue watching their exchange until you cannot anymore. 

“Rina,” Your sharp and urgent tone stops your friend in her speech. She regards you with slightly wide and puzzled eyes.

“Let’s get out of here.” You stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulders. “It is too crowded. There’s a nice cafe on the next block.”

You force a smile.

—

You lie in your bed, sprawled out, blank gaze fixed on the ceiling of your bedroom.

Today was shit.

You were so excited to catch up with Rina, take her around the city and have a fun time reconnecting with an old friend. None of that happened because you spent the entire day in a haze, your mind repeatedly going back to Wonwoo and Yuna, her shining eyes and bright smile, looking eagerly at Wonwoo.

Yuna Lee, the ex prima ballerina. Yuna Lee, the most sought after single woman in the country, both by men and the hundreds of brands eager to work with her. Yuna Lee with her porcelain skin, slanted eyes and a smile so sweet it could cure the plague. Yuna Lee, heir to billions and a perfect match for Wonwoo, in all ways.

The thought raises bile to your throat, and you hate how bitter, insignificant, and jealous you feel. What is worse is that Wonwoo never mentioned this meeting to you. Yesterday, he took you out to dinner to celebrate your promotion and then drove you home afterwards. He walked you to your door, pressed a soft, loving kiss to your lips, and wished you a nice time with your friend.

Did he know all along? Why did he lie to you? He rejected Yuna, didn’t he?

As if on cue, your phone rings, jolting you out of your thoughts. The caller is Wonwoo and you stare at the screen, your hands not moving to pick up the call. It continues ringing before finally the call disconnects and with a sigh, you lie back down, slightly relieved. You don’t feel like talking to him right now. He texted you earlier, asking how your hangout went but you have not replied. It is petty and childish and very unlike you but today, you cannot find it in yourself to give a fuck.

The phone rings again and with a huff, you sit up, contemplating. Finally, on the fifth ring, you begrudgingly pick up the call. 

“Hey? You alright?” Wonwoo’s voice immediately floats through, concerned and hurried.

“Yes,” you try to put some effort into making your voice lively. “I was in the bathroom, didn’t hear the ring.” The lies slip away easily.

“It’s okay. I was getting worried. Did your date go well? How long is your friend staying?” 

“Yes, it was good.” Your voice is flat and you are aware of how dry you sound. “Another week, I think. She needs to return to Italy for the fashion week.”

“I see.” Wonwoo hums. “Oh, right. ____, could you open your door real quick? I sent something for you. My assistant is there.” “Wait? What?” You sit up straighter. “Now?”

Wonwoo laughs, “Yes, now. I wanted to surprise you. I’ll be on the call, just open the door.”

You shuffle out of bed, putting on your slippers and hurrying out of the room. Without bothering to look at the intercom screen, you open your door and fall silent.

With parted lips and wide eyes, you stand there, holding the door open as your hand holding your phone to the ear falls down your side.

Wonwoo grins, sweet and cheeky, his nose scrunching up from the action. He stands there in a navy blue oversized sweater and cream pants, looking boyish and happy as he extends a bouquet of mixed flowers to you.

“Surprise!” He chirps, hanging up the call.

A noise of shock and bewilderment comes from you as you reach out for the flowers. “I— you…”

Wonwoo chuckles, walking into your apartment. “I see you are surprised, love.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Momentarily, you are taken over by the clean, soapy scent coming from him and you close your eyes, savouring his smell and his touch. Too quickly for your liking, he moves away, toeing off his loafers and stepping into your living area.

“I was wondering if I did something wrong you know,” he smiles as you follow him in. “You didn’t reply to my messages earlier and my call so I was wondering how I fucked up.”

“So you came prepared with the flowers?” You ask, your voice less playful than you intended it to be. 

“Not really,” he replies, watching you set the bouquet in a vase and place it in a corner of your kitchen counter. “I wanted to surprise you anyway…” He trails off, walking closer to you. Gently holding your shoulders, he makes you turn to face him, his eyes focused and curiously set on your face. He whispers, “You know, I’m not really good at this stuff but I do think that something is wrong. You are mad at me aren’t you?”

You cannot help a smirk. He did grow up, didn’t he?

“Well…if you haven’t done anything wrong then it should be fine, no?” You walk past him and head into your bedroom, sitting down comfortably on the bed. Like an obedient puppy, he trails after you and then sits next to you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I really don’t know what I did wrong. I’m sorry for not getting it and I’m sorry for whatever I did wrong.” The genuine look of distress on his face makes you sigh softly.

“Wonwoo…” You murmur, looking at his hands fidgeting on top of his lap. “I saw you today, at the Grand Hotel. With your father and Mr. Lee and…Yuna.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen slightly as recognition flashes over his face. “Ah, that.” He sounds almost relieved.

“You didn’t tell me you were seeing her today.” You whisper, your voice meek and small, your gaze trained on your own lap.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t know, I promise.” Wonwoo urges, his hands coming to rest on top of yours. “I was there to attend the conference and then I got a call from my father, asking me to come out and meet Mr. Lee. I didn’t know she was there.”

“What did you guys talk about?” You whisper, relishing the feeling of his warm hands on yours. Wonwoo remains silent for a beat and you know what the answer is. You cannot bring yourself to meet his gaze so you choose to stare at his hands instead. 

“Marriage.” Wonwoo’s voice is quiet. “My father and Mr. Lee wish to see us married.”

“Yuna too.” You murmur, almost to yourself.

“What?”

“Yuna too.” You exhale a heavy sigh before looking at him. “She likes you, Wonwoo. I saw how she was looking at you. I know that look. She also wants to get married to you.”

Wonwoo remains silent, his lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze piercing your heart and soul, leaving you unable to guess what he is thinking. For one too horrible moment, you think you have lost Wonwoo.

“Well that's too bad,” he says, squeezing your hands. “Because I don’t feel the same way about her. There is only one woman on this planet I want to marry and I think we both know who that is.”

The corners of his mouth lift in a teasing smile and your heart soars, a small smile creeping on your face too.

He continues. “I told them very clearly today that I won’t marry Yuna. My father was very annoyed, of course, but I don’t care. So rest assured sweetheart, I’m all yours.”

Your shy smile morphs into a giggle as you lean on him, putting your face on his shoulder. With a soft laugh, he envelops you with his arms, holding you tight against his body. “Are we good now? Am I out of the dog house?”

“Yes,” you laugh.

“Good,” he hums. “Because I missed you. I always miss you.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss on top of your head. Holding you against his body, he lies down on the bed on his back, dragging you with him. Half of your body lays on top of him as you get comfortable, placing your head on his chest and listening to his rhythmic heartbeat, your fingers mindlessly tracing the subtle patterns on his sweater. 

“Wonwoo?” You call him softly.

“Hm?”

“I think we should tell Chairman Jeon about us.”

Silence follows. You remove your head to look at your boyfriend’s face. He observes you inquisitively as if trying to decode the inner workings of your mind. 

“Are you sure?” He asks quietly.

You nod, propping your body on your elbows so that you can look at him. “Before my vacation, he called me to his office for a chat. He asked me if I knew who was the girl you are interested in. I lied and said no, which did not feel good. He seemed open to meeting her you know. I think we should go see him.”

Wonwoo continues looking at you silently. “What are you thinking?” You whisper, slightly tense.

“I just…am surprised, I guess. I mean, I have no problem with us meeting him but I don’t want to pressure you. I know it might be tough and uncomfortable for you since you have a professional relationship with him. But if you really want to, then let’s go see him on Monday.”

“Are you uncomfortable with the idea?”

“No.” He ponders for a moment. “I just don’t care enough. I won’t exactly ask for his blessings, you know. We don’t have a relationship like that. So don’t worry too much about what he will think of you because, at the end of the day, it won’t matter. I will date you, whether he likes it or not.”

“He might be disappointed.” You whisper softly, your hand absent mindedly reaching to his throat to trace his adam’s apple. “Compared to Yuna, you know. That match is profitable in so many ways.”

“Love is not about profit,” Wonwoo replies, his voice quiet and serious. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter what he thinks. Come here.” He pulls you in for a hug, your body wrapping around his while your head remains nestled against his throat, breathing in his addictive scent. You lay like that for a while basking in the peaceful silence and each other's warmth, his fingers drawing soothing on your back.

“Did you have dinner?” He asks softly. With a negative shake of your head, you look at his face, studying his stunning features up close. Without much of a thought, you press a kiss to his jaw, slowly trailing it to his lips. His soft lips meet yours for a chaste sweet kiss that gradually turns into a passionate, fiery one.

Wonwoo shifts, his body pressing yours flat on the bed as he comes on top, craning your neck higher to gain better access to your mouth. He kisses you like a starved man, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth and you return the kiss with equal fervour, your hands tightly clinging onto his sweater, tugging on it, twisting the fabric in your grip as you lose yourself in his touch.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo inhales sharply, breaking apart from you. His eyes are glassy, illuminated by desire and his lips are bright red and swollen, a clear evidence of your passion. “Fuck, if we keep going, I cannot hold myself back.”

“Then don’t.” You whisper, looking up at him eagerly while licking your swollen lips. Wonwoo closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “No, I…I didn’t come here for this, fuck. I don’t want you to think that I’m—”

You shush him with a quick, soft kiss on his lips.

“We agreed to go on my pace, right? I want this Wonwoo, I promise.” You smile at him. Wonwoo hesitates, staring at you intensely and you see his eyes glance at your lips and his jaw harden. Then, with a soft, dejected sigh, he leans down and kisses you. He is softer and slower this time but there is determination in his every move, his hands going all over your body in a passionate, devoted caress.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, looking into your eyes lovingly and in that moment, the pure adoration in his voice makes you truly feel beautiful. Beautiful and loved. You break into a shy but giddy smile, your hands working on unbuttoning the top two buttons of his sweater. Your movements are not rushed and Wonwoo is patient, simply observing you with adoration as you finish your task. Then, he sits up and takes off the sweater in a smooth motion.

Your eyes feast on every delicious inch of his naked skin, every contour of his muscles, scouring all over his chiseled body. It has been a long time since you saw him naked and you unashamedly cherish the visual in front of you, taking your time.

“May I?” Wonwoo asks softly, pointing to the hem of your sweater. With a smile you nod and he pulls it off, revealing your bare torso. Your nipples harden and your skin breaks into goosebumps because of the slight chill. Wonwoo immediately wraps his body around yours, hugging you tight and pressing kisses all over your neck and shoulders. He takes his time, kissing, sucking and marking your flesh while his hands work on taking off your bottoms.

"Do you know how mesmerizing you are?" He whispers, his thumb stroking your cheek with utmost tenderness as he flings away the last bit of clothing from your body. You lean into his touch, eyes falling closed at the contact as a soft sigh escapes your lips. He is looking at you like you are his entire world, like you are the only thing keeping him alive and it creates a foreign sense of desire in your belly, one you have never felt before.

"Lean back," his voice is a quiet command that you follow instantly, resting your back against the headboard and letting him sit comfortably. Not breaking eye contact with you, Wonwoo slowly spreads your legs wide. You watch with bated breath and a squeak leaves your mouth when he pushes his index finger inside you, slipping in easily due to your wetness. He makes a noise, a deep throaty groan as his digit finds home inside you. 

"Fuck, you're so wet," he murmurs as he inserts another finger and then another before curling them inside you.

"God— Wonwoo" You hiss at the pleasurable intrusion, grabbing the nearby pillow as your hips lift off the mattress. Your reaction makes him grunt as he fastens his pace and you feel your legs tremble, making you think that you are going to come already. Your core tightens around his fingers as more wetness leaks from you, only amplified when he brushes his thumb against your clit. Wonwoo devotes all his attention to your face, watching your expressions with a close, fascinated eye. “Close?” He whispers, his voice deep and scratchy. 

You nod your head aggressively, eyes screwed shut and your hips chasing his fingers in their own tandem. You climb higher and higher to your release, tingles shooting all through your body, making your legs shake. You open your eyes to see Wonwoo’s fingers still moving inside you while he shifts his position, making himself comfortable between your legs and leaning down.

“Wonwoo,” you croak, flushed with desire. 

“Shh,” he shushes you, slowing the movements of his fingers. “Let me taste you, hmm? I want you to cum on my face.” He murmurs, lips hovering over your thighs, the touch of his warm breath giving you goosebumps. The low gravel of his voice paired with the way he keeps looking at you from between your thighs makes you swallow thickly before resting your head back against the headboard, a shuddering breath leaving your lips as you feel your heart pound faster than ever.. 

The next moment you feel him flick your clit with his tongue and your entire body jolts, a long drawn out moan rushing past your mouth.

Fuck, you just might die.

Your body writhes while he holds your thighs open in a strong grip, incoherent gasps and curses of pleasure falling from your lips. Wonwoo is a man starved as he eats you out mercilessly, alternating between slow and fast licks, his tongue going deep inside your most intimate parts. You can't remain still, tears of pleasure stinging your eyes as your body shakes and pleas fall from your lips.

“Wonwoo, please… I need to come.”

“You want to come, sweetheart?” His voice comes out muffled. “Then come for me.” 

His words have your toes curling as he gives a harsh suck to your clit and in an instant, you go off like a firework. The heated coil in your belly snaps as your body twitches, sending you headfirst into an orgasm so good, so deep, tears drip down your eyes. All through it, Wonwoo keeps sucking your pussy, almost making you numb before stopping with a final kiss on your pussy and sitting back.

His lips glisten with your release as he sits on his knees, a cocky smile on his lips.

“You taste addictive, my love.” He murmurs, leaning forward to press soft, tantalising kisses on your jaw and down your throat. A satisfied hum falls from your lips as you close your eyes and savour his kisses, your body still reeling from that mind blowing orgasm.

His lips find yours again and your mouth reconnect in an embrace of passion, his tongue poking in your mouth as you taste yourself. One of his hands moves down amidst the kiss and you realize he's taking off his pants. With a soft groan, he breaks the kiss and quickly stands up to kick his boxers and pants down his legs. 

With your heartbeat still echoing in your ears, you admire him in his nakedness in the softly lit room, drinking every glorious inch of him. You can't stray your eyes from his cock, hard and leaking as you gulp and press your thighs together, feeling desire pool between your legs all over again.

Wonwoo crawls back into the bed, his eyes lit with carnal hunger as he makes himself comfortable on top of you, resting his weight on his elbows. “You ready for me?”

“Yes, please.” You almost whimper. “I need you so bad, Wonwoo. Just fuck me.”

He smiles. “As you wish.” He lines himself up and in the next moment, you feel his tip prodding at your core. He slides in easily, almost embarrassingly easy as your sopping cunt welcomes him with wide open arms. A low groan escapes from his throat as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, cursing under his breath The sound makes you clench around him which makes him curse again.

“Fuck, you are so tight, sweetheart. I missed you. I missed being inside you like this, fuck.”

You can only respond in an incoherent hum as he starts moving inside you, making you throw your head back and let out a loud moan. He raises his head to look at you and your eyes meet, making everything even more intense and intimate. The look in his eyes is ever captivating, enamoured yet full of heated desire as he thrusts in and out of you tirelessly, hitting that sensitive spot inside you perfectly each time.

“You're going to be the death of me.” He whispers, his mouth working on your jaw, moving down to your throat and sucking harshly on the soft flesh, making you shudder in pleasure. “Wonwoo!” You cry. “Fuck—”

“Where do you want me to cum, sweetheart?” He hums, trailing his lips back up to your mouth. “Inside me,” you reply immediately, every other thought and worry slipping out of your mind as you find yourself lost in his touch.

“Okay,” Wonwoo grunts, slightly increasing his pace. You pant heavily, clutching onto his back as he drives deep into you, his hands holding your waist in a bruising grip. “Gonna fill you up then, then. Make you mine all over again.” He promises, his eyes trained on your face like he is mesmerized by it as he delivers one particular thrust that has you arching off the bed and seeing stars. Each touch makes you feel like a goddess, like Wonwoo is a desperate devotee worshipping you at your altar which is your body. His pace is unforgiving, maddening, yet the look in his eyes is something new and intimate that turns this act into something so much more real, something that tugs at your heartstrings and makes you feel whole in an overwhelming way.

Then there is a soft touch on your swollen clit and a quiet command from him which has fireworks exploding all throughout your body. You cry out from the intense flood of pleasure as white spots dance in your vision, your hands twisting the fabric of the bedsheet so hard it would be no surprise if they tore. 

The next moment you feel Wonwoo release inside you with a deep groan and the feeling of his warm cum coating your insides gives your body another round of shivers as you almost blank out. Your body twitches and shivers as you feel numb for a few moments, your brain covered in a deep fog of mind numbing pleasure.

“You okay?” Wonwoo’s soft voice slowly brings you back to your senses and you smile with your eyes half closed. ‘Mhmm,” you mumble, leaning closer to him as he wraps an arm around you, rubbing your shoulders soothingly. You hum, eyes easily falling closed in the comfort and safety of his body.

“Hold on.” He whispers. “Let me clean you up, hm?”

You mutter complaints when he leaves your side to go to the bathroom. By the time he returns, you have drifted off with a smile still lingering on your face.

—

Your heels click on the hard floor as you walk down the hall to Chairman Jeon’s office. Despite resigning from his post, he often spends his mornings at his old office room, reading newspapers or idly staring at the city skyline from his window. It is convenient for you and Wonwoo because it is just nine o’clock and the first thing you have decided to do today is visit him and get it done with. 

Wonwoo walks in front of you, his steps quick and determined. Initially, he asked you to hold his hand while you showed up to meet Chairman Jeon but you refused. 

It felt improper to do. This is your workplace after all.

Wonwoo comes to a halt right in front of the door, his hand resting on the handle when he turns his head back to look at you. You give him a nod and a shaky smile and he returns it, bright and reassuring, his eyes silently cheering you on.

Then, without bothering to knock, Wonwoo pushes the door open and marches in.

You wait for a couple of seconds, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself before you follow him in. Chairman Jeon is surprised to see Wonwoo and even shocked to see you step in.

“I was not expecting to see you,” his tone is slightly flat and directed at Wonwoo, you realize. “Father,” Wonwoo murmurs as a greeting, looking rather bored. You watch the exchange awkwardly before the Chairman glances at you. “Ah, Miss ____. I was not expecting you either but what a pleasant surprise. I was going to ask you to come in for a chat soon. How was your vacation?”

“It was great, sir.” You reply, more politely and humbly than ever before.

“Good, good.” he nods. “What brings you here this early?” He pauses for a second, his eyes averting to his son. “Don’t tell me he got into any trouble?”

“Oh! No, sir, not at all.” You rush to clarify, looking helplessly at Wonwoo. He catches your gaze and takes the lead. “I’m here to talk to you,” he announces. “About something important.” 

A pause. “You wanted to know who I’m seeing, right?”

The chairman nods. Suddenly his eyes flash bright and he looks at you with excitement. “Did you finally manage to convince him to share it with me? I knew you could do it!”

Oh god. You cringe inwardly, an awkward yet terrified smile plastered on your face.

“No, father, please—” Wonwoo sighs, rubbing his forehead. He slumps down on the empty couch in front of Chairman Jeon and motions you to sit next to him. You tentatively do so.

“You wanted to see her. Here she is.” Wonwoo states matter of factly, looking at his father dead in the eyes like he is talking about the weather. 

Chairman Jeon blinks at his son, evidently confused. Then he glances at you and after a moment's pause, his eyes widen and his lips part slightly.

Well, the cat is out of the bag now.

Wonwoo has the grace to give his father a few moments to digest the information before he continues. “Out of respect for you, she wanted to do this. Now the thing is father…” Wonwoo pauses, putting his elbows on his knees to interlock his fingers and lean closer, “I love her.”

The confession has your heart skipping not one but multiple beats as your head whips towards him, absolutely stunned. 

He is dead serious. 

He continues, looking at his father in the eye, “She is the one for me so I’m sure now you get why I was so against your matchmaking. More importantly, I need you to know that I’m not here to ask your permission or blessings. I will continue to see her, whether you like it or not. There is that.”

You have the urge to put your head in your hands, maybe even scream at Wonwoo. Could he not have been slightly nicer?

The chairman continues to stare at his son impassively for long, suffocating moments. The two seem to have engaged in a staring contest, their gaze loaded with challenge as the air in the room thickens up with tension. You start to think they have forgotten about your presence in the room when finally, Chairman Jeon turns his glance to you.

“Could you please excuse us, Miss ___?” His voice is normal, devoid of any indication of pleasure or lack thereof. “I need to speak to my son in private.” The latter words come out sharper as his gaze refocuses on Wonwoo.

You immediately stand up. “Yes sir, of course.” You murmur and turn around. Your eyes lock with Wonwoo’s and you scowl at him but he just smiles. “I’ll see you later.”

You give him a stiff nod and rush out the door to find Secretary Yu standing right outside.

“Miss ___.” He greets in his regular monotone voice.

“Secretary Yu,” your words come out slightly breathy due to your shock. You are about to pretend nothing happened and walk away but a question pops in your head and you glance back at him.

“Did you know?” You ask.

He remains silent, his face stoic and his gaze boring at you but he seems to have understood what you are referring to. Finally, he replies. “I had a guess.”

“Why did you not tell Chairman Jeon?”

“Because I did not have evidence. And to be honest, knowing CEO Jeon, I assumed he was not serious about you. I am surprised to learn otherwise.” Neither his face nor his tone indicates any surprise. You are not even sure if you detect approval or dismay in his words. As always, he is unreadable and you feel slightly frustrated.

“I see.” You reply, your tone flat. Your feet continue down the hallway, your footsteps echoing through the narrow chamber. Secretary Yu calls your name, forcing you to stop and turn around.

“Take it easy.”

You nod and continue walking.

—

Originally, today was supposed to be your first day at Jeon Industries but the plan changed due to some last minute shifts. You still have one more case to wrap up for your firm so you are set to start at Jeon Industries from tomorrow. Now, you are more than grateful for this delay because staying inside the building was suffocating. You could not have gotten any work done, knowing Chairman Jeon was right down the hallway, talking to Wonwoo and deciding your fate. 

As soon as you are out of the building, you breathe a sigh of relief and hail a cab to meet up with your last client from your previous workplace. Ten minutes into the car ride, your phone rings and you know it is Wonwoo. You pick up immediately.

“Hi.” You whisper, your voice slightly breathy, your heart thudding loudly in your chest.

“Hey,” Wonwoo’s soft voice comes through the speaker. “Are you on your way to meet your client?”

“Yes.” You reply quickly. “How was it, Wonwoo? Does he hate me?”

You hear your boyfriend laugh, leaving you perplexed. “No actually. He hates me but that’s old news.” “Gosh, Wonwoo—” You huff, raking a hand through your hair out of frustration. “Will you just tell me what he told you?” “Alright, alright. He just asked me if I knew what I was doing and if I could really make this work with you.”

“Huh?”

“Trust me, I was surprised too.” He chuckles. “He was pretty tame about it. If anything, he seemed to be worried for you. He flat out told me he thinks I don’t have the balls to keep a girl like you around. He said I would blow it which, to be fair, I did once so he’s not wrong about that.”

You are stunned to silence.

“Really? Are you sure you’re not kidding, Wonwoo?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I’m sure. You can relax now. You had nothing much to worry about in the first place. He has no reason to dislike you and even if he did, it would not have mattered.”

You let out a loud breath of relief, one you feel like you have holding all morning. “Well,” you smile even though he cannot see it. “I am relieved.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Should we meet up tonight? I am heading out right now to visit our factories and I think my work there will take up the day.”

“I have plans with Rina tonight.” You reply apologetically.

“Ah, that’s alright. Have fun. I will see you tomorrow at the office anyway.”

“Mhmm.” You bite your lip, hesitating to ask the question bugging your mind.

“I know you have something you want to tell me.” Wonwoo’s voice is playful and you cannot help but giggle out loud. “How did you know?”

He laughs and you imagine his cocky smirk. “I just do. You’re my girlfriend, after all. Now spill.”

You take a deep breath in. “Do you love me?”

“What kind of a question is that?”

“No… it's just that, earlier, you said that you loved me. Do you really?”

“Of course I do.” His voice is soft, almost pleading. 

A broad smile kisses your lips. “I see. I just wanted to make sure. I mean…you never said it to my face before.”

“I…I didn’t because—” he stutters, “well, I did not want to put pressure on you. We agreed to take it slow this time and I thought it might be…I don’t know…I’m sorry. I was so passionate in there and it just came out…” He trails off nervously. 

“Wonwoo?” You call softly.

“Yes?”

“I love you too.”

You can practically hear him break into a smile. “Really?” He asks, his pitch higher than usual, a clear sign he’s excited. You grin, shaking your head up and down. “Really.”

His deep, melodic laughter floats through and you cannot help but join in. Briefly, you wonder what the cab driver may think of you, laughing like this with your phone pressed to your ear but you’re too in love to care.

“Thank you.” Wonwoo finally says, his voice soft yet serious. “It…it took me losing you to realize how much I love you. At first, I was mad, to be honest. I have never been rejected by a girl before. But then as days passed, a sinking feeling swallowed me up whole. I realized I love you and I was an asshole to you. I became sure of it when I saw you with Jeonghan and for many days, I thought I lost you for good. God, I don’t want to feel like that ever again.” He ends with a deep sigh, his words so raw they penetrate deep into your heart. 

You open your mouth to assure him but he continues. “I’m sorry it took me losing you to love you but still, I’m glad. I’m glad and I’m happy that you gave me another chance. I love you, ___. I am so happy I get to love you.”

God have mercy. Tears sting your eyes and you look up, fanning your face.

“Wow, Jeon Wonwoo,” you try to sound playful but your voice comes out hoarse, choked with emotions. “I was not expecting this. Especially over the phone.”

His soft laughter floats through. “I know right, I wasn’t either. I just…felt like telling you, I guess.”

“Well, thank you. I love it when you are honest with me.”

“Then I will try to be more honest with you from now on.” He pauses and then sighs. “Sweetheart, I’m getting a call. I’ll call you tonight?”

“Yes, tonight.” You reply with a smile.

—

The breakfast club is packed, full of elderly people—retired rich businessmen and their wives, to be exact—who gossip, play golf, eat, and smoke in the early morning on a Tuesday while the rest of the world is on their way to work. 

You feel out of your depth here and you would have never come to a place like this had it not been for Chairman Jeon’s instructions.

Last night after you got back from dinner with Rina, you saw the text Chairman Jeon sent you. There was an address below which he wrote:

Meet me here tomorrow at 8.30 am.

Your heart stopped beating immediately and shriveled up in your chest as the reality of the situation hit you. The other shoe had finally dropped and you spent the entire night feeling restless and worrying out of your mind. You lied to Wonwoo to avoid talking to him, saying you felt very sleepy. Instead, you spent the majority of your night pacing back and forth in your room, conjuring up a thousand different ways this meeting could go.

Now, you are here, amidst the chatter of rich people, waiting for your fate to be decided.

With a deep breath, you square your shoulders and put your best game face on as you walk through the large dining space enclosed in a glass building right next to the huge golf field. You continue straight down until you reach the end of the room and find Chairman Jeon at a table, flipping through a newspaper. 

Before your mind starts spiraling you head towards him.

“Good morning, Chairman.”

He looks up from his newspaper and smiles. “Ah, you’re just on time! Sit.” He motions to the empty space opposite him and you do so diligently. A waitress comes to your table, serving you a cup of earl grey tea and refilling the Chairman’s empty cup.

“Thank you for taking the trouble to come see me before your work.” He says, folding the newspaper and putting it on the table, next to his teacup.

“No trouble, sir.” You murmur humbly. 

“Try the tea while it's hot.” He ushers you to take a sip. “It is very good.”

You do so, taking small sips of your tea and observing him over the rim of the cup. He is dressed in a tracksuit and pants, the most informal you have ever seen him. He remains silent, simply sipping his tea and glancing outside the floor to ceiling windows of the breakfast area and out into the golf field.

Your mind starts running rampant.

He is here to tell you off right? You have seen it in dramas; he will hand you a stack of money and tell you to fuck off and leave his son alone. If he is more pissed, he might splatter that tea all over you. Or worse, what if he tells you that you are fired from Jeon Industries? Oh my god, how embarrassing it would be. What would you say to your colleagues?

Oh God help me.

Despite the downward spiral of your brain, you take notice of one thing. Chairman Jeon’s gaze is still trained outside the window, the look in his eyes tender and full of longing. Curious, you follow his line of sight and spot a group of people on the golf field. An elderly man dressed in a tracksuit, holding a golf stick while talking animatedly to an elderly woman, presumably his wife, dressed like him. Beside them stands a younger girl, smiling at whatever he says while carrying a toddler. The old man interacts with the child, playing with him before taking him in his arms and swinging him around. It looks like they are a family, the grandparents bonding with their grandchild, and then you understand the look in the Chairman’s eyes.

As if he can hear your thoughts, he suddenly says, “You know, all my life all I did was work. My father founded this company and it was upon me to bring us name and fame. From my twenties all I knew was work and outside of it, nothing existed. Not even my wife and my son who needed me.” He pauses, a quiet heavy sigh falling from his lips. His eyes, however, remain trained on the family outside.

“I have known nothing but my work so maybe that’s why I still show up at the office even though I am retired, like yesterday. I am trying to build a life outside of work now but that ship has sailed, no?” he juts his chin to the family. “I have no one to spend time with, no one to call family. Not a wife who will spend the rest of my time with me. Not even a handful of good friends. My business mindset made me burn the bridges I built and I lost the few friends I had. Instead, I made enemies. I made my company great and I made enough people jealous of who I am and what I achieved. But now that those days are no more and I am just a retired old man, it is hard being here alone when everyone my age is here to spend time with their family and friends.”

Heavy silence hangs in the air.

You continue looking at Chairman Jeon, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. He has not been a good father or a good husband, you know that from Wonwoo and others. He, however, has been a good boss and a good leader for the company. You want to voice out those words to improve the mood but there is a lump in your throat that leaves you voiceless, making it hard for you to utter a word of reassurance. 

He finally casts his eyes at you. “When he told me it was you I was very surprised. I took the entire day processing this information.”

You sit straighter and nod understandingly. “I am very sorry for lying to you, sir. It really was not my intention. Plus, I wasn’t seeing Wonwoo at that time. We…we were on a break, I guess.”

The chairman sips his tea, looking at you inquisitively. “It will not be wrong of me to assume that my son did something wrong, will it?”

You press your lips together and tuck your chin to your neck, looking at him sheepishly over your glasses.

He laughs, the sound coming out as half a scoff. “This is what worries me. I think Wonwoo is incapable of holding on to a woman like you.”

There is a pause and you decide to break it. “Wonwoo is a good man, sir. He has changed a lot since the first time I met him. I trust him now. I trust his capabilities and his decisions.”

“He definitely has changed,” he murmurs, taking another sip. “I still am worried. A father’s concern I suppose.” He pauses, glancing outside the window for a moment. 

“You are one of my most valuable employees, Miss ___. You’re an asset to the company and everyone agrees on this. You have handled all issues of my son with the utmost expertise and you have been a stellar employee. It’s just that…”

What? I’m not good enough to be your potential daughter-in-law? The chairman sighs, “I don’t trust my son. If this relationship fizzles out then you cannot just cut yourself off, can you? You will still be an employee here. And if you decide to leave…”

What? Is he worried that you will spill all the details, all the private information to someone else?

“Sir,” You begin, your voice steady and confident. “If you are worried about my loyalty then please know that it will not waver. Whatever the outcome of my relationship with Wonwoo is, I will continue to be an employee here. I assure you that my— our professional life will be separate from our personal one.”

Chairman Jeon regards you silently for a long while as if pondering your words before nodding his head thoughtfully. Then, he smiles. “You know, I have more faith in you than my own son. You have proven yourself capable many times…something that my son has yet to do.” His gaze in his eyes becomes unfocused as you see his mind trail off somewhere else. “Sometimes I wonder whether it was a good idea to make him the CEO so quickly.”

“Sir,” you begin carefully. “He is still young and very new to this entire thing. Give him some time to prove himself. Let him face the challenges so that he can overcome them by himself. I have faith in him, sir, and I think you should too. We need to cheer him on so he does not question himself.” You abruptly stop, your face heating up at the passion and the borderline annoyance in your tone. Too shy to meet his eyes, you hastily fix your glasses a take a sip of your tea to busy yourself.

Chairman Jeon who has been watching you rather fascinatedly breaks into an amused smile. “Hm, you are quite right.” He hums, his sharp eyes, so much like Wonwoo’s, set intensely on you. “Well then, I suppose I can only wish you well on your new journey. With your work and your relationship.”

“Thank you, sir.” You smile gratefully, your heart finally at ease and free of weight. He nods, glancing at his watch. “I have kept you for too long already. You will be late for office on your first day.” “It’s alright, sir.” You reply, truly meaning it. Sliding your bag over your shoulder you stand up. “It was lovely to spend time with you.”

“Go on now. I’ll see you around.” He ushers you away with his hands. You nod respectfully and take your leave. Taking only three steps away from the table, you stop and turn around, unable to hold back the words brewing in your mind.

“Sir?”

“Hm?” He glances up.

“You still have a family, you know. You still have Wonwoo.” You hold his gaze, speaking the words slowly and carefully. He remains mute, watching you with a gaze clouded by a thick haze. Of what, you don’t know.

Finally, he nods, a small, subtle shake of his head. With that, the corners of his lips upturn slightly, just ever so slightly but it is a smile nevertheless.

You smile back and walk away.

—

You head to Wonwoo’s office first thing after parking your car in the garage. 

Your heels click against the shiny floor as you walk down the hallway, stopping in front of Secretary Yu’s office. “Is Wo— CEO Jeon in?”

He nods, looking at you with a subtle frown. “Thanks.” You chirp and rush towards his room, entering after a quick knock. 

Wonwoo sits behind his desk, focused on his computer. The sound of the door opening makes him look up and surprise flutters across his face.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” He grins, rolling his chair back to stand up. “Came to see me first thing in the morning?” You only smile and hurry towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his solid chest, a content sigh falling from your lips. “I just met your dad.” You mumble.

You feel him become tense. Gently holding your shoulders, he pries you from his body and looks at you with concern. “What? Why? Did he say something to you?”

You shake his head with a smile. “No. It was just a chat. He was very lovely. I think he approves of me.”

Wonwoo watches you, the concern on his face melting away. A bemused smile kisses his lips. “Is that why you are so happy?”

You nod with a smile and Wonwoo laughs softly. 

“You know,’’ you murmur thoughtfully. “Your father is quite nice after all.” He arches an amused brow.

You smile. “I’m just saying. You should give him another chance.”

“Wow. My girl is quite optimistic today, isn’t she?” 

You giggle, hugging him again. “I love you.” The words fall from your lips easily and naturally, like you have spoken them your entire life. “Let’s be happy together.”

You feel Wonwoo’s body relax, his hands coming to rest on the crown of your head, his fingers going through your hair. He presses a kiss on the top of your head and hugs you tighter. “We will be. I promise.”

Your chin rests right below his collarbone, your eyes peeking at his face with a doe eyed look. He kisses your lips, soft and sweet. “I love you. Always.” He whispers.

I love you.

That’s it. That’s the verdict. 

for a special epilogue click here and take a look at their future!

© startlightxsvt 2025 | All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, translate, adapt, or repurpose any of my works.

A/N: so, that is the end of our journey! when I tell you writing this was fun, I really mean it, esp this final part. i had a blast with this and i hope it was equally good for you guys. i am really looking forward to hear what you all thought of this entire series so please drop your thoughts in my ask box. as always like and share and have a lovely day!

on a separate note, i will not upload anything for the next month or so as i'm working on a huge vernon fic which i am VERY excited to share with you all. the teaser should come out in late feb/early march but nothing is set yet. still, i hope y'all anticipate it <33

[sonarspace]

deception, nanami

content: mdni. angst. soft sex. breeding kink (? kinda) wc: 1.1k a/n: trying to get out of my writing slump but it’s bad! so here’s this…

𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞

nanami’s laying in your arms when he gets a call from ijichi telling him he needs to be at shibuya in an hour. and instantly you’re being filled with dread. “don’t leave,” you tell him as soon as he hangs up the phone.

but he’s already buttoning up his shirt. you huff a frustrated breath and follow him to the bathroom where he fixes his blonde locks.

“don’t go, please” you try again your voice breaking. his eyes meet yours through the mirror. your lips wobble as a tear escapes the corner of your eye. he turns around his eyes creased in worry. “darling, what’s wrong?” his voice’s sweet and soft dripping honey with every word he speaks.

“i’m scared,” you voice your worries into his chest – wetting his blue shirt with your salty tears. he tilts your face to meet his eyes. you’re quietly sobbing now – eyes red and nose turning a shade darker.

“don’t leave me,” your melancholic voice tugs at his heart. he can’t leave them when they need him the most. “i have to, it’s urgent.” he just says in return. it was hurting him to see you like this. be away from you in this state.

“no, ken, please” you drag out the word. his lips match your downturned lips. he hated not doing what you asked of him but this was different. he had people relying on him – the higher ups, his colleagues, the students, the first years…

he drops his head to yours in defeat. his fingers brush away the tears streaking your cheeks. “take me with you,” you request. “you’re pregnant,” he retorts. “so what, i can protect us,” you argue back. your technique similar to gojo’s, allows you to create an invisible barrier. the only difference was, you could include other people.

“i’m not even sure what’s happening there but i don’t wanna risk your safety.” he says placing his hand on your bump. he feels a light kick against his hand and smiles. “it’ll make you use too much cursed energy, there are too many people there,” he adds. “ken,” you’re about to say but you feel another kick – harder this time. as if telling you to listen to him.

he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. a part of him hurts as he lies “i’ll come back”.

“i love you kid,” he whispers as he places a kiss against your stomach. “i love you,” he tells you. holding your face firmly and placing a kiss against your lips — once, twice, and finally a third time. “i’m going to marry you when i get back,” he murmurs against your lips eliciting a teary laugh from your lips.

“promise,” you ask. “promise”. he vows.

but he doesn’t come back that night. or the night after. and you know it was normal for him to take a day or two for missions but the lack of texts and calls has you crying into his pillow. a text chimes from other side of the room. you get up and move quickly — shoko’s name on your screen. you feel like your heart going to jump out of your throat. this can’t be good.

shoko: i’m so sorry.

and you don’t need to read more cause your worst fear has come true. the phone slips out of your hand and hits the floor with a loud clack. you follow as your knees buckle and a weeping “no” erupts your throat.

you gasp for air through your cries. a set of arms pulls you into a hug. “i’m here, i’m here,” he whispers into your hair. “baby, i’m here.” he says again – louder this time. you calm down slightly pulling away from the embrace to see the face of the man you love so dearly.

“kento,” your voice cracks. a hand reaching up to touch his face. was he real? you feel his freshly trimmed hair prick your fingertips as your trace his face freely. his pink lips that kiss you and mark you like a canvas, his slender nose that nudges against yours playfully, & his brown eyes that never failed to take your breath away. “kento,” you say once again.

“yes, baby.” his eyes twinkle with love for you. “are you real,” you ask hazy from sleep. “i’m real,” he lets out a lighthearted chuckle. “you had another nightmare,” he cups your face and wipes away dried tears from your cheeks.

“i’m here. i’m okay. you’re okay. we’re okay.” he confirms. you sigh against his hand. his cold ring presses against your cheek and you’re reminded you’re married — have been married for a year.

you lay your head on his chest and he rubs your back comfortingly. “i was pregnant in my dream and you weren’t there”. he huffs in return. “and that’s why it’s just a dream. i’d never leave you. much less when you’re pregnant.” you smile into his chest.

“i want a baby,” you say. his body rumbles under yours with joyous laughter. “yeah?” he asks with a grin – his thumb under your chin pulling your face up to face him. “yeah,” you kiss him.

he kisses you back. his hand moves down to your neck – rubbing over your quickening pulse. you pull back and let his oversized button up fall off your shoulders. the slightly opened windows lets in a gentle breeze and hugs your body. the night sky is filled with moving pink clouds.

the sound of salty waves from outside, along with nanami’s gasping moan fills your ears as you lower yourself onto him. “ahhh,” your plushy walls are snug around his cock, making it hard for him to form a coherent thought.

before you can move too much, he flips you over. as much as he loved seeing you on top of him, he loved having you underneath him even more. loved seeing the way your eyes rolled back as he thrusts into you. the way your lips parted in moans and whines of his name.

“ken,” you whimper. he drops his head into your neck. kissing and biting at your soft skin. lolling out his tongue to soothe a bite. you wrap your arms around him. your nails dig into his back as he picks up the pace. the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter at the way his cock pushes against that sweet spot in you – turning your brain to mush and leaving your sentences incomplete.

your legs shake around his waist as you cum with a loud cry of his name. “you sure you want me to fill you up” he asks as you calm down from your orgasm. “filthy girl,” he teases when you nod with his fingers occupying your mouth. a muffled yes is all he needs to dump ropes and ropes of his seed deep into you. he pulls out his fingers from your mouth and replaces it with his tongue.

“we’re gonna make a baby,” he groans happily into your mouth.

𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞

a/n: comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!

© SONARSPACE 2024 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[pumpkin-writes]

— ୨୧ close call

pairing: rafe cameron x maybank!reader

warnings: mentions of sex & being naked but nothing super detailed or that i would deem explicit, sneaking around, established-ish relationship, some kissin' & cuddlin' toward the end <3

word count: > 1k

notes: this was just a little blurb i was thinking about, i loveee rafe x maybank!reader so don't be surprised if you see more of this duo on my page!!

you and rafe are experts on keeping your relationship hidden for a long time, much to his annoyance. you often meet in secluded spots, like his truck by the dunes, your room when jj’s out or going for late-night rides on his yatch. the thrill of secrecy adds to the tension between you, though it also leads to close calls that almost expose you, like the time your brother—and all the other pogues—came home while you and rafe lay naked in your bed. 

“y/n! you home, sis?” jj maybanks’s voice rang out through the old house, making your breath catch in your throat as you clutched the bed sheet, attempting to be as quiet as possible as you looked over at rafe, who seemed to remain comfortable in the spot he’d claimed in your bed. “you need to leave,” you whisper-yelled, reaching for his clothes that were balled up on the floor beside you, shoving them toward him, “rafe, get up and gooo.” you tried to keep your voice down, pointing at the window. it wouldn’t be the first time he climbed in and out of your bedroom window, but he didn’t see the cause for concern. instead, he shifted rather casually in his spot—he actually looked like he was ready to fall asleep—and it made your blood boil. when you heard footsteps approaching your door, you gave him that look—that ‘if you make a sound i will end you’ look—rapid knocking on your door to follow. “come on, we can hear you in there. come hang with us!” kie's voice spoke from the other side of your door, which was thankfully locked, as the knob began to turn back and forth in an attempt to open it. “why is your door locked? since when do you lock your door? hello?” your brother’s voice was calling to you, and you finally spoke up, not before putting your finger up to your lips to shush rafe, who was obviously eating this up, with that stupid smirk on his face. 

“i—i was trying to take a nap, not feeling well guys, sorry.” you lied, trying to keep your voice steady, hoping they’d believe you and buzz off. despite the moment of hushed whispers being exchanged in the hall, they bought it. “oh gross, feel better y/n/n. we’ll go outside so you can get some sleep. love you.” as grateful as you was to have gotten out of what could have been a very bad situation, you hated that you couldn’t just tell your brother and your friends the truth. “love you,” you called back weakly, letting out a sigh of guilt, but then relief as the sounds of their wild footsteps all made their way out of the house, leaving you and rafe in your familiar silence. “i could literally kill you,” you shoved him hard, pushing him away as he tried to pull you back into his arms in bed. “yeah, but you won’t.” he was cocky, and while it should have pissed you off even more, the feeling of his hands on your bare skin made you melt into his touch, and you let yourself roll back into his embrace. “i’ll leave as soon as the coast is clear, okay?” he spoke low into your ear now, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “but until then, i think we have time for round two?” he pressed a kiss on the shell of your ear before littering your neck with more and it wasn’t long before you were getting lost in each other again ( quietly, of course )

[desideriumwriter]

Could you write something about Hufflepuff reader studying late in the library and she realizes she has to get back to her common room before curfew. As she’s walking back Fred finds her, walks her back to her common room while flirting and talking about random things. Just something sweet and cute. Thanks love 💗💗💗

this is suchhhhh an adorable idea!! a fun one to write too! tysm for the request!! <3

wc: 1.4k

f.w. masterlist | navi

The sun was still in the sky when you entered the library to study peacefully. Various classes had slapped you with an array of tests planned this week and you felt like a bundle of nerves.

So, you chose somewhere you knew there’d be no disturbances or noise to pull your attention from your books.

The sun had completely set now, the sky outside was black. You were probably one of the only people left in the library.

It was just you, several textbooks, notes sprawled across the desk you were sitting at, and the sound of the clock ticking.

You let out a heavy breath and flipped the page of your Potions textbook. Before beginning to read over the next section, you took a look at the clock on the wall.

9:47 PM.

You had less than fifteen minutes before curfew. Maybe you could finish this next page, maybe you could start heading back to your common room.

The walk back wasn’t terribly far, but you should probably start going now if you wanted to get there before the curfew bell rang.

Rubbing your eyes and gathering your things, you quietly began on your path back to your common room.

Turning the corner down one corridor, you ended up a bit behind a tall, ginger-haired, Gryffindor boy.

It didn’t take long for him to realize you were there, he looked behind him, looked back, then did a double take.

“Merlin, you scared me. I didn’t even notice you were behind me.” He halted.

“I know you.” You stopped and narrowed your eyes at the freckled boy.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, you nodded. “Is that a good thing?” He took a few tiny slow steps towards you.

“You're the one who set off all those fireworks off on the train home last year.” You stated, Fred winced.

Maybe it wasn’t a good thing. Most kids found that end of the year prank funny, until the express was stopped for nearly an hour.

“I’m one half of it.” Fred said, tilting his head to the side. “I’ve got a brother. We er…set them off together.” He explained when he noticed your puzzled staring.

He watched nervously as your face lit up in realization.

“The twins!” You pointed, “You both tried to put your names in the Goblet the other week!”

“Oh no, you heard about that too?” He let out a nervous laugh, hoping you wouldn't see the blush seeping across his cheeks.

Fred didn’t understand why he felt so flustered, he thought the incident was hilarious himself. But you were a stranger, a pretty stranger too.

“I witnessed it.” You tried to bite back any more laughter. “You had quite a mighty beard there.”

“Reckon it was better than Dumbledore's?” He brushed his fingers through his long hair.

“I’ll say you’ll be able to pull it off when you're a hundred years old.” You shrugged. “I’m assuming you’re Fred?” You guessed as you two began to walk side by side.

“I’m George.” He lied, no matter how many times he’s done it, he’s never got tired of pretending to be his twin just to mess with people. You nodded embarrassedly and looked at the ground, a twinge of guilt suddenly hit him.

“I’m kidding. I’m not George. I don’t know why I said that.” He stammered and shook his head, “You were right the first time. I am Fred.” You glanced back at him and gave him the sweetest smile. He felt like he could melt right into the floor.

“Well then, Fred, where are you coming back from?” You lifted your chin at him in a playful manner.

“Detention with Filch.” He sighed, you grimaced.

“Uck. Did they punish you because you tried to outsmart the age line?”

“Oh no, no. Being stuck in those stiff hospital beds felt like a punishment itself.” He scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyways, I got caught trying to steal ingredients from Madam Pomfreys cabinets.”

“Oh?” You let out a breathy chuckle.

And what about you? Where are you coming back from

“Just the library, I have a test in Potions tomorrow. I decided I should just try and cram in whatever knowledge I could.” You cringed at the way you began to ramble. While pushing open one of the kitchen doors it was impossible to miss Freds large frame moving in front of you to hold it open for you.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to the Gryffindor tower?” You said half-jokingly as you walked into the kitchen.

“I wanted to steal a pastry from here before I went there. Shouldn’t you be getting back to yours?” He poked.

“I am, I’ve been on my way back to the basement this entire time.” You crossed your arms playfully. His smile dropped and his brows knit together.

“Basement? Your dorm is in the basement?” Fred’s face scrunched up. You just let out a small mhm and nodded, pointing to the entrance hidden behind a stack of barrels at the end of the room.

He had to tilt his head a bit to the side to see the round door hiding behind the pile of wooden barrels.

“Seems a bit crummy to put a common room down there.” Fred said flatly, yet still looking displeased at the fact your dorms would be where the dungeons also are.

“I think it’s the coziest place in the entire castle.” You shrugged; Fred let out a small noise of disagreement.

“Eh, the Gryffindor tower is the coziest. We can put Hufflepuff as a not-very-close second, yeah?” He grinned at you.

“I say you’re wrong on that.” You hummed as you tried to bite back your smile, you failed.

“Yeah? You can come see for yourself! I’ll let you have a visit and see how wrong you are!” He teased, nudging at you with a playful sparkle in his eyes. You could feel your face heat up at how his voice sounded so much flirtier than a second ago. You just prayed he wouldn’t see it. To prevent him from seeing you in your blushing state, you swiftly stepped up to the barrels.

“Er, you should probably stand back a bit.” You pointed, Freds brows knit together in confusion as he looked at the ground and back up at you.

“It…sprays you if you get the code wrong, and there's already been a few times where I’ve messed up the pattern.” You explained, Fred only nodded and took a few steps back.

You tapped the barrels in the correct rhythm and stepped back once the door began to open slowly.

From the glimpse Fred got of the Hufflepuff common room, maybe you were right. The uncountable number of plants and warm glow of the room made it look like one of the most comforting places he’s ever seen.

“It was really nice talking to you.” You told Fred as you stepped inside. “Goodnight.”

"You said you had a test in potions tomorrow, right?" Fred pipped; you stopped the door from closing with your hand.

"Yeah, we have to make a certain one by memory."

“Perfect, I've got just the thing…” He said as he dug into one of his robe pockets. “If you're not sure you made yours correctly, try and sprinkle some of this in. It’ll help.” He pulled out an extremely small sack, filled with sparkly purple powder and dropped it into your hand.

“It won’t make my cauldron explode?” You teased, knowing of him and his twins' history of blowing up the school toilets.

“No, I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.” Even with that little smile on his face, you could tell he was actually being truthful.

“Awesome, thanks.” You grinned again, looking down and beginning to move away from the door.

Fred called out your name one more time, blocking the door from closing with his foot.

“I’ll probably be back here tomorrow night, if you’d like to chat some more?” His voice had gotten so quiet, there was a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’d really like that.” There you went again, with that sickeningly sweet smile. “‘Night, Fred.”

“‘Night.” Fred left the kitchen with a stomach full of fluttering butterflies and a grin on his face. He didn’t even bother to steal any pastries on the way out, he was too busy being excited for tomorrow night.

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