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decojellyfish · 1 month

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Whimper

Hi everypony! This is the official part 2 of Bite!

You guys have no idea how much I appreciate all the love I've been getting for my past fics! Thank you all so much :)

------ Hybrid AU! TF141

Retired Fight Dog! Ghost, Soap, and Gaz x Retired Fight Dog! GN! Reader x Owner! Price Reader is only addressed as ‘you’

SFW ~ Angst to fluff

Warnings: Very brief/occasional swearing, mentions of self-hatred and depression

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Come Wander with Me - Jeff Alexander" 0:09 ━●────────── 2:47 ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷

───♡───────────── Beginning It had been a week since you’d run away from the Price household. You couldn’t bring yourself to ever turn around, to ever look back at the house. You temporarily returned to your old lifestyle, hiding in the shadowy alleyways, dumpster diving for food, etc. But as the days passed, the guilt and shame would eat away at you. Your portions of garbage food would grow smaller and smaller before you gave up on eating altogether.

Any kind of food, no matter how clean or rotten it was, never felt like it was deserved. You would rot away in a pool of disgrace, staring up at the sky. Whether it was the middle of the day or two in the morning, you were lying in a dirty alley and gazing at the never-ending sky. You couldn’t even retreat to your happy place, it was corrupted now. Whenever you tried to run into escapism, you were abruptly snatched back into reality as images of your attack flashed across your mind.

You weren’t deserving of your happy place anyway. You were given a chance to live in a warm home, warm fresh food whenever you wanted it, clean clothes, and even a bath. And you threw it all away because you were too scared, you couldn’t escape the past. You would rather stay willfully trapped in the past than lean into the future’s welcoming arms. You had practically slapped the future in the face. Spit in its face, even.

You couldn’t go back there, not after what you did.

The boys had been looking for you, any chance they had. You knew this because you had close run-ins with them before you would run as far away as you could from your current alleyway. You were right back where you started—square one. You hated square one, but now, you felt like you deserved to be permanently chained to it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The Price household was barely holding it together. That faithful afternoon, when Price and Gaz returned from their trip to the grocery store. Price had worried he left the door open, then seeing Soap’s patched-up state and Ghost residing on the couch, his head in his hands. Until that is when Ghost and Soap retold what happened. Albeit, Soap interrupting constantly with tears in his eyes.

He felt that it was all his fault. He was the one who reached out to you, violating your comfort zone without even realizing it. Soap just wanted to scoop you up in a tight bear hug, with your consent, and apologize to you over and over again. None of them knew where you were. Your scent was hard to track down, even for Soap or Ghost. Nevertheless, they would all look for you whenever they were out. Sometimes even Gaz would stay up late, ruining his sleep routine as he stared out the window, hoping he could see you in the distance.

He never did, but that didn’t make him give up. When he came back home from the grocery store that day, Gaz was so excited to share his favorite treats with you. The box of treats remained on the countertop, waiting to be opened. Gaz was waiting for you to come home to open it, like a welcome (back) home surprise.

Even Price would lay awake at night, wondering where you were. Which alley you were in, what you had found to eat. Sometimes he would wonder if you were even alive at this point. The first place he thought to check was the pound, maybe you’d turn yourself in. Next, he checked the shelter, maybe you were brought there. But alas, you were nowhere to be found.

Ghost was even starting to sneak out at night, patrolling the area for any sign of you. Soap would often tag along with him, he felt that since he was responsible for your departure, he was equally responsible for seeking you out and bringing you back.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The sun was beginning to rise. The sky, hour by hour, gradually brightened up from dark indigo to light blue. It had been nearly two weeks since your sudden escape. You were sure that you were far away from the Price household, maybe even a town away from them. Waiting for the day to pass again like it had the other ones, your monotonous schedule was interrupted by a little sound. A little ‘clink’.

Looking over, you saw an ivory plate with four treats on it. You looked up, finding the perpetrator who dared to give you food. It was a woman, she looked kind. But you felt that her kindness was deserved elsewhere, maybe for another hybrid that didn’t fuck up the chances the universe gave them.

“Go on, sweetie.” She smiled at you, “It’s okay to eat, you look hungry.” She was knelt by your seated form, showing no signs of leaving. After nearly thirty minutes of just staring at the woman, the plate of treats, and a spot on the sidewalk, you hesitantly approached the plate. Grabbing a treat, you looked up at her, almost as if wanting her approval. “There you go, eat up.” Her voice was like a campfire, warm and safe.

You had slowly eaten all the treats and now, were following the woman like a lost puppy. Well, you kind of were one. Only that you were willfully lost. Your sunken eyes followed her as she walked up the few steps of a hybrid shelter.

Staying at the bottom of the stairs, you looked up at her as you began to protest. “Oh, no, I- I don’t need a home…” “Well of course you do, lovie.” She smiled down at you, not understanding what was going on in your head. Of course, everyone needs a home, it’s just that you were a bad pup. Bad pups don’t deserve homes or food. You only ate the food she offered you because she wouldn’t leave you alone.

“C’mon, pup, it’d nothing to be scared of. Everyone is deserving of a warm place.” She smiled down at you, quickly trotting down the steps and grasping your hand. Despite your constant protests and objections, she pulled you into the building and you were suddenly hit with so many smells of different hybrids. It was overwhelming, you wanted to leave more than you already did. But you were now in the custody of the shelter, there was no getting away now.

At the shelter, you didn’t do much. You didn’t do anything. You never left your cage, you always had your back turned to everyone but the wall, even when sleeping. Even in captivity, you didn’t eat, didn’t play, and you never communicated. There was even a rumor around the shelter that you didn’t have a voice or face. That was only with the new members, though. It’d been another week since you were brought here, and you were growing more and more hopeless by the day.

Why? Why was the universe giving you more and more chances? You’d only end up throwing them away, why wasn’t the all-knowing universe catching on?

You didn’t get it. You didn’t get why they kept trying to feed you, replacing the uneaten food in your bowl with new food. Food that would also stay uneaten. You didn’t get why they made sure you drank at least a little water each day. You didn’t get why they cared. Why did they care about you so much?

Why did they care so much about someone who threw away every chance they got, because they couldn’t trust anything supposedly good in this world?

You had grown quiet. What was once a fearsome fighter dog, one that was well known for their vigor and bloodthirst, was now a meek little pup. Scared, not knowing what they did to deserve this life, this pain, this distrust of every single being around them. You would find yourself getting angry again, angry that you didn’t get a cozy life like the other pups, and when you were offered one, you ran away.

Bad pup. Bad pup. Bad pup. It repeated in your head like some twisted earworm that had engraved its home into your brain.

Unfortunately, your only outlet for this anger was your tears. But you didn’t want anyone to hear your suffering. You still wanted to be seen as a scary fighter. So you waited till everyone in the shelter was asleep, this meant everyone, so you would end up waiting till three or four in the morning to just silently cry your heart out.

You would grip at your hair and the clothes you still got from Price, and you would sometimes clutch your entire face as you desperately hid it to muffle your sobs and hiccups. You would cry for an hour or two, then you would be asleep by sunrise. It was your little routine by now. Hey, at least that meant you were getting used to this place.

Sometimes, there were nights when you would cry harder than other nights. Mostly ones where a hybrid was adopted, a constant reminder as to how unwanted you were, or the ones where you couldn’t stop the constant flashes of your past fights. All of them. Ones with actual fighter dogs, ones with domesticated dogs that were just trying to live their lives, and Soap. None of them deserved what you did, not even the fighters that wounded you that you ended up wounding back just as harshly if not, worse. They didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that. Soap didn’t deserve to be the victim of your outburst. No one did.

You didn’t deserve this life, you didn’t deserve to be a bad pup. You didn’t want to be a bad pup anymore. You would desperately cry out to the universe, in your head, that you didn’t want to be a bad pup anymore. You wanted to be a good pup. You wanted to play in the park with other dogs, you wanted to have a bath every week, to go on walks, to eat your favorite treats, to wear your own clothes that didn’t have holes from rotting away. To have a kind owner.

You wanted Price. You wanted Gaz, and Soap, and Ghost. You wanted to take back that chance, you would plead every night to get it back.

But as much as you wanted to get that chance back, it didn’t come.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price never stopped his search. None of the boys did. But while the boys would sleep throughout the night, Price was now spending his time in bed constantly searching for any sign of you on his computer.

Finally, he came across a photo of you. He had to do a double-take when he saw the date of the photo. It was recent, and you were still wearing the t-shirt from your first day at the home. He had to make sure he didn’t wake up any of the boys with the slight cry of joy and relief he let out at the revelation that you were safe and in a shelter.

He made sure to save the address of where you were. It surprised him that you were so far from his home, but he was happy you looked like you were safe at the moment.

That morning, Price was up and early. Already dressed, he began to cook breakfast for his boys. They all had their morning routine of having breakfast and usually chatting with each other. Gaz and Soap, however, had grown quiet the past few weeks. Price and Ghost could tell they were heavily affected by your disappearance, Soap was more guilty than Gaz was saddened as well as missing you.

Price would interrupt the difficult silence that they’d all grown accustomed to with a clearing of his throat. “I’ll be out for a while today. I’ll be visiting an old friend.” He didn’t want to say who he was seeing specifically as that would make all the pups want to come with him. It would overwhelm you if all the dogs came in with him just to see you. He knew you would need a slow reintroduction to the idea of becoming domesticated.

A few murmurs of acknowledgment made their way around the table as the boys ate their breakfast. It was clear they were all trapped in their heads, stuck in their thoughts.

An hour later, Price got in his car and drove to the shelter where you currently resided.

He stepped into the building, already beginning his search for you again. He looked at each cage, wondering which one you were in. It wasn’t until he had finally caught a glimpse of a familiar t-shirt that he let out a sigh of relief. Kneeling by your cage, he carefully watched your back slowly rise and fall with each breath you took. He could vividly imagine the empty look on your face, how you were trapped in your head and stuck with your thoughts.

Price couldn’t blame you for wanting to be alone, he could sense the guilt dripping off of your curled-up form.

“Hey there, pup.” He spoke softly, you could hear a little smile in his voice too. You couldn’t help yourself, you looked over your shoulder at his gruff face. You did it so quickly that it made Price chuckle a bit, “Yes, it’s me. The old man.” He joked, running a hand over his facial hair. You stayed quiet, your head returning to its original position of staring at the back of your cage.

Letting out a little sigh, Price got slightly comfortable by your cage. “...the boys and I, we- we’ve missed you. We’ve been lookin’ all over town for you…” He continued to speak with a soft tone, his voice almost like a gentle, forgiving embrace. “I wanted to let you know that- we’re not mad at you. Nobody is, not even Soap. He misses you, I think, the most.” He laughed a little. “I know you’re scared, pup, I don’t blame you. You and the boys came from a very scary and cruel place. I’ve seen, multiple times, what that kind of life can do to a dog.”

Looking over at you, Price took in your tired appearance. “What you did… yes, it was bad. But you were scared. You did what you felt was necessary to protect you.” He paused. “Soap feels guilty himself, he didn’t mean to set you off. And he wants nothing more than to apologize for himself, and forgive you too.”

“He wants nothing more than to keep you safe. You know, he’s already been going on and on about being your guard dog when going on walks and at the park.” He laughed a little, looking over at you again.

That made you think to yourself. Soap wanted to protect you. Soap, the dog that you violently attacked in a fit of fight or flight senses that flooded your brain at that moment. It made you feel even more guilty, causing you to clutch at your shirt as a form of biting back the tears that were forming in your eyes.

“Now, you have every right to answer this question however you please, okay?” He looked at you, noticing how you looked over at him again, a subtle sense of curiosity in your dull eyes.

“Would you like a second chance to come back home?”

You were riddled with embarrassment as you followed Price out of the shelter, your tail could not stop wagging. And it was wagging hard. Your tough exterior was being betrayed by your brain, directly wired to your tail and making it wag like you had just one first place at a dog show.

It didn’t stop even when you were seated in Price’s car, audibly swishing against the material of the car seat. You were just so happy. You were happy Price had given you a second chance, the universe gave you a second chance to have a go at this whole domestication thing. After you had convinced yourself you weren’t deserving of one, the one person who you wanted a second chance from had come in and given it to you.

You weren’t going to mess it up this time, you weren’t going to lash out, you were going to see your old foes as new friends, and you were going to cherish this second chance for the rest of your life.

Price chuckled at your swishing tail, putting his phone down after sending a text. “I’m glad you’re happy, pup. You deserve to be.” He smiled at you, his thick, greyish mustache curling as if smiling too. He put on some jazzy radio station and began to drive back home. He even held your hand for comfort, after he offered his hand over the cupholders anyway. “It’s gonna be okay, dear. You’re gonna be okay.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The boys were all waiting by the front door, waiting for you to step through that door at any moment. After Gaz had received a text from Price, saying that he’d found you and was bringing you back, he had quickly informed the other two. Gaz had taken the liberty of setting up your little bed on the couch, lighting a little ocean-scented candle on the coffee table, and even setting a small plate of his favorite treats next to the said candle. The treats were just for you, like a little welcome-home gift.

His only orders for Ghost and Soap were to look sharp, making sure they weren’t still in their pajamas when you arrived, as well as having Soap fix up his mohawk.

Once all was said and done, the house was ready for your long-awaited return, the boys stood near the front door with bated breaths as they waited to hear Price’s car pulling into the driveway. It was about five minutes of waiting when they finally heard a vehicle arriving at the house.

Gaz’s tail was wagging, he was excited to greet you and hold you once again, happy that you were now safe and sound. Ghost was happy too, not as much as Gaz was, but still happy to have you back with the rest of the group. He was a little excited to see how you would adapt to a domesticated life, he could tell you were starting to like it before you left.

Soap was nervous, almost terrified. His tail was halfway tucked between his legs as he tried to maintain a good posture. He didn’t know what your reaction was going to be to see him again, he could already see you adamant on avoiding him like a virus. Maybe even barking at him to leave you alone, calling him a bad dog. In his eyes, he was a bad dog. He didn’t respect your boundaries when you were just settling in, he was the main reason you were gone in the first place. As much as he tried to keep himself straightened up, his eyes were full of shame, guilt, and worry.

The front door would open with a quiet click of the handle, and a tiny creak as it opened. Price was the first to step inside, letting you come in at your own pace. As you entered, you would look at the boys with surprised eyes. You hadn't expected them to be waiting for you, you thought they would be doing things around the house.

Gaz was smiling from ear to ear, opening up his arms as he silently asked for a hug. Taking a bit to get used to being in the house again, you eventually walked closer to him, accepting his embrace. “Welcome back, friend…” He hummed, resting his head on your shoulder as he closed his eyes. You slowly returned the hug, wrapping your arms around his broad frame with a gentle squeeze.

After nearly a minute, the two of you parted from one another. Ghost would gently pat and rub at your shoulder, a silent way of welcoming you back. “Good to see you back. We missed you.” It was the first time you’d seen Ghost smile at you. It felt… strange. But in a warm, welcoming way. Those three words nearly tore you up, ‘we missed you’. After weeks of imagining the group saying ‘good riddance’, ‘finally, they’re gone’, and ‘I never thought they’d leave’ constantly in your tortured mind, ‘we missed you’ blew all those thoughts away. It made you tear up, but you managed to blink them back and gulp down that burning lump in your throat.

You turned your gaze to Soap. The minute you locked eyes with each other, it was almost as if all your guilt and shame were shared with him, and his was shared with you. The day you saw Soap cry seemed to be an impossible thought. But it was happening right in front of you. Although he wasn’t a sobbing mess, you could tell he was holding back. And you were sniffling just as much.

With a deep shaky breath, he mustered up the courage to finally tell you what he’d been choking back ever since you’d run away.

“I’m sorry, pup. I’m sorry for not respectin’ your boundaries. I should’ve known you needed a bit o’ space, especially around Ghost and I. I- I just-” He sniffled, regaining himself when he felt his voice cracking. “I just wanted you t’ know that you’re safe here. No more fights, no more fear, no more worryin’ about when your next meal is gonna be. I just wanted you t’ feel safe, I… I want you t’ know that you’re safe, pup. We all are.” He sighed.

When Soap finally looked back up at you, staring at the ground in shame, he saw you choking back tears and sobs that were tearing at your throat. His eyes widened, “Are you okay, pup…? ‘M sorry if I said anythin’ that made you feel- bad.”

You shook your head in response, “No, no… I’m sorry too.” You wiped at your eyes as you sniffled. “I shouldn’t’ve freaked out on you like that. I had zero right to attack you, to hurt you the way I did that night. Especially after all you guys have done for me. I just- felt so guilty, I couldn’t come back. I thought all of you were gonna be so mad at me, you were just gonna kick me right out onto the streets again.” Your voice began to shake and crack, and your concrete walls began to crumble down. “I didn’t wanna face that, so I figured I could just do it all for you guys.” You hid your face away into your hands.

“I don’t feel deserving of the food, of these clothes, of anything you offer me.” You sobbed. “Not after what I’ve done, what I did.”

Soap watched the way your scarred ears folded back against your head, your tail nearly tucking itself between your legs, the way your shoulders shook with every uneven breath you took in or let out. He lightly brushed his calloused hand against one of your arms, making you look up at him with your red, puffy eyes.

“...do you need a hug?”

Your throat burned more than it ever did, causing you to whimper and nod as you began to audibly sob and cry, not being able to hold back anymore. Soap opened his arms and held you. He held you in such a gentle, forgiving way, that it was almost as if you were made of thin porcelain. Clinging onto him, you sobbed into his shirt. Your muffled cries and violent hiccups were soothed by one of his hands slowly caressing circles into your back.

“You do deserve all these nice things, pup. With all th’ shit you’ve put up with?” He chuckled slightly. “You deserve it all…” He smiled down at you, softly nuzzling into your hair.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Putting on a new set of clothes that Price had gotten you from the store, you stepped out of the bathroom after having your first bath back. They were comfy, nice, soft, and baggy too like wearable blankets. You had snuggled into your makeshift bed that Gaz had set up, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders.

Gaz happily watched as you tried the treats he’d set out for you, his tail wagging when you gave him a nod of approval. “Don’t spoil dinner just yet, pup. Food’s here!” Price called out from the front door. Price decided it was an order-in kind of night, so the group settled on take-out Chinese food.

Soap and Ghost made sure to handle the food order, their appetites combined making them wannabe food critics. Your mouth watered when the smell of it hit your sensitive nose, as well as the other dogs. Soap had also picked out a movie for the group to watch on this special night, he loved movies.

The group was sitting around the coffee table, their plates and mouths full of delicious food. Yours too. You were all sitting silently, captivated by the adventure unfolding before your eyes on the TV screen. For a brief moment, you were brought back to reality when you went to stab some more food with your fork.

You took the moment to look around. You were surrounded by what would be your new family, all in warm clothes, with nice hot food in your stomachs, and a nice warm home with decent air conditioning.

You were clean, you weren’t hungry, and your wounds from the streets had been taken care of. The you from a few months ago wouldn’t believe it, even you couldn’t believe it a little bit. That you were safe. You were looked after. You were loved.

And you deserved it all. ───♡───────────── End

Again, thank you so much for the love and support! If you have any requests or asks, feel free to submit them!

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muntitled · 10 months

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𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐚

Pairings: Jaemin Na x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Jaemin Na, the dashing yet ambitious magnate, is tired of playing the toll as a silent stakeholder. He wants your father's business. He wants the whole thing, even if it means seducing the boss's daughter to get it.

Warning: Business Rivals to Fwb to lovers, Toxic Family Relationship, Violence, Business politics, Businessman AU, Forbidden Relationship, Slight Angst, Male Manipulation, Manipulation tactics, Smut (+18) Minors dni, Daddy Kink, Degradation Kink, Rough Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Ownership Kink, DDLG, Fingering, Spitting, Marking, Bruises, Grinding, Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex.

A/N: My third NCT Dream fic! They're truly my favorite group, so I plan on writing more for them. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this. Excuse me while I project my daddy kink onto Jaemin. Im sorry, but my bias fuels it way too much. You all saw that live, right?... THAT one live. Iykyk. Anyway, he's so daddy coded, okay bye.

The moon is high, and the night is deep when you find yourself quite literally being paraded around a bustling open reception. Goldleaf and tinsel wrap around the off-white columns, veneering the room in a deep but faintly expensive sepia tone. Despite the hatred festering in your bones, you did have to admit that the clubhouse in the very center of a highly competitive Country Club did make for a good party reception indeed. Nestling all of 100 dapper guests, 100 partners, wives and mistresses, and 100 wallets, to sink their wrinkled hands into.

Your father did know how to throw a party, you'd certainly give the man that. That is all you give him, however. That is all the grace he deserves.

Despite the tempest of emotions in your veins, the laughter you emit to the group surrounding the small appetizer's table is static and robotic, and anything but genuine. It pitters politely out of your lips as you raise the flute of shampagne, hoping to disguise just how fucking annoyed you actually were.

"You'll do well to remember the name," your father proclaims before laying a hand on your back as he pushes you closer into the circle of suited men - a lamb to the proverbial slaughter.

"She's going to be running things once I retire," a Jazz number played by a live band is not enough to drown out the influx of chatter that spreads throughout the main hall of the Clubhouse at the news of your father's retirement. You could practically here the thinning lips salivate at the very sound of it: The emperor, stepping down, leaving his empire vulnerable to the raiders.

"I feel proud and so unbelievably lucky to have such a reliable line of succession." Says your father, "When I'm six foot under, I'll know that Neo Tech is safe in her hands-"

A snicker escapes, likely concocted by the decent amount of alcohol in your blood, "Although that time isn't coming soon enough!" Your statement allows for a grand chuckle to fall across the table where you all stood, nursing your deviled eggs and bacon-wrapped asparagus.

The display is that of good-natured jest between a father and daughter to the guests around you, clad in ambercrombie suits and Alexander Mcqueen gowns.

Your father, however, slithers a hand onto your shoulder, squeezing all too hard as he laughs statically.

You can feel the warning in his calloused grip. A stern threat...

Not too much, it cautioned.

The action, though seemingly innocent and fleeting to the rest of the table, draws the attention of a man whose countenance had been sparse and dismisive the entire evening. Despite this being a private gathering for your father's most trusted stakeholders and their partners, Jaemin had been far from interested in attending.

Once, he was made privy to the knowledge that this was a retirement celebration, however... that changed things, and Jaemin threw on his jet black Armani blazer over a silky unisex blouse that stretched across his chest.

He admits that he made his attendance out of greed. Having to save face and play the roll of the responsibile stakeholder before he was truly able to pillage your father's company right from underneath him. If that meant entertaining the degenerate conversation of greying white men with viagra prescriptions and a cocaine addiction, then so be it.

"It truly is a shame that I have to take something from someone as promising as yourself." He whispers to himself over the rim of his own champagne flute, his darkened eyes stationed on you. It was difficult not to stare, when you were being hounded by business associates, men and women alike, eager to ascertain how they might win the hand of the queen.

A silk gown drips like the liquidfied night sky down your curves, spilling on the floor around what Jaemin imagined to be ample, soft thighs - something he could sink his fingers into, sink his teeth into-

You're chuckling very fakely at something an investor said at a round cocktail table nearby. Although what really gets Jaemin's blood rushing through his arteries is the sight of your father dragging you away from the main hall, up a spiraling stair case. Jaemin prided himself on minding his business. This came second nature to him.

What he could not ignore, however, was the slight alarm, marring the scowl along your soft face. Nothing could spoil your perfect makeup, but the frown he caught a glimpse of before you disappeared was enough.

Jaemin almost immediately found his Hilfiger loafers leading him down the path you had just walked. He downed the golden liquid in his flute and, never breaking eye contact from the spiral staircase, placed the glass on the tray of a mobile waiter. He wiped the access champagne off his lips, quite barbarically, with the sleeves of his blazer as he emerged into the main foyer.

Immediately, a hiss of conversation could be heard from the mezzanine above.

"-the hands of the company! Do you understand how important this is?! How fucking ungrateful you are-"

"Not to interrupt," Jaemin speaks, slyly climbing the stairs as he stuffed his hand into the pocket of his dress pants. The look your father thows him is absolutely villanizing.

Instead of shying away, however, you swallow thickly to note a slow sick sort of smirk curling onto Jaemin's face.

"Who the fuck are you?" Instead of sparing your father any look at all, Jaemin's gaze is solidified on your father's violent grip on your forearm.

"You don't know who he is?" You ask your father, marginally shocked but not at all surprised as Jaemin neared the two of you.

"That's okay, that's okay," he says, letting the gleaming smirk stay solid across his face, "My father sends his greetings, by the way" Jaemin says, "I didn't wish for our 45% share not to be represented at such a monumental event."

Therein lies the very first signs of embarrassment around your father's face. He begrudgingly removes his grip from your forearm but does not leave before he quickly tacks on, "Excuse me, Mr Na, but this is a private conversation -"

Jaemin is already lifting his hand, his Rolex gleaming under the crystal chandelier as he casually says, "Important enough to miss an audience with your shareholders? Everyone is asking for you, big man." Jaemin replies smoothly, "You are still the boss, right?"

Then, and only then does Jaemin exchange the very first real bit if eye contact with you tnh entire evening, and God strike you dead if it did not release an influx of warm, sputtering butterflies with molten wings in the pit of your stomach. You're still glidd to his side. The successor cradled tightly to her Daddy's arm.

"We'll finish this later," Your father hisses in your ear before stepping back and giving Jaemin one final nod. His disappearance births an uncomfortable heat and even more uncomfortable silence in the mezzanine. Jaemin does nothing but watch you with a tilted head and a near constant smirk.

"Hi." He says cheekily, all of the seriousness in his voice gone as he begins to move closer to you. You only roll your eyes before turning around to scour for a free room in the clubhouse. He follows cooly and calmly.

"Stop staring at my ass," you chide, pushing open a heavy door before switching on the light.

"Nah," Jaemin follows you inside. "Don't tell me what to do,"

He turns to peer down the corridor with one raised eyebrow before effectively sealing the door shut. You had led the both of you into one of the very many guest suites peppered across the Clubhouse. Jaemin is remarkably pleased to notice how your inhibitions immediately melt away. Your shoulders relax as you kick off your red bottomed heels, letting them land lazily in a corner.

"You haven't told him have you?" His voice is stable but rumbles like a heavy cloud throughout the room.

You evade eye contact as you quickly walk up to him, beginning to splay tiny kisses around his exposed neck.

"No, Jaemin," Your breathe fans across his exposed skin as you undo thr little bow of the silk blouse, "I did not tell my father about your plans to rape his company," You push down his blazer and he lets you. Watching you with a piercing glare as a deep, warm, pool of lust begins to grow in your core at the very sight of how big he truly is.

"Would you rather he find out on the day?" He asks, still letting you undress him as if he was a lifeless piece of him. "I know you're evil but that evil-"

"Fuck, you're so hot," Jaemin's cock stirs, as it always did, when that needy sort of whine pushed itself out the confines of your throat. You knew what buttons to push, to get the reaction you wanted. Tonight, however, would prove to be a much different occasion.

"How long do you plan on waiting?" You're nails are dragging itself down the front of his muscled body. Before you can reach his cock, already causing a bulge in his dress pants, Jaemin roughly grabs at your wrist.

"I said. How long do you plan on waiting?" Despite the calmness in his voice, Jaemin's grip on your wrist is unrelenting. It is rough, and it is violent, and it makes your father's earlier grip on your forearm feel like a child's play.

"Fucking forever, Jaemin! Jesus!" You burst in a flurry of rage and lust and frustration. "I will wait until forever it means I won't get outed as a shit daughter and a fucking rat, Jaemin!"

He tilts his head as he smiles and cooly says, "Watch that tone."

But he's already got you going, and you're finally letting out the feelings that had only been building for the duration of an entire, hellish evening. "Can you even begin to understand how I feel?! I know you want this company, but -"

"But?" Jaemin asks in a sing-song voice before pulling you closer by your wrist. He dips his head down, folding his tall frame over as he tilts your head up. "There shouldn't be a but, baby." The words are veneered in a lustful whisper as he finally places his lips to your throat.

"With me, it's either all or nothing." Now it's Jaemin's turn to slowly drag his hands up the side of your curves. He lets the tips of his fingers tease the fabric as he smoothes his hand over your chest. Your resolve explodes, and you melt right into him, as his hand makes its way up your throat. His palm enclosing the spot where his lips have just been.

"I hate seeing you like that, baby. I hate seeing you glued to his side when you should be glued to mine."

You're faintly aware that you're both mobile now. Not knowing which way is up and which is down as your back presses against a wall.

"He's..." you swallow thickly as Jaemin slips down the soft fabric of your dress. Your exposed shoulder is immediately assaulted by his reign of wet and drunken kisses.

As he tongues at the skin, Jaemin makes sure to look up at you. Siren eyes under thick eyebrows as he pushes the fabric all the way down until your dress is pooling at your feet and you're left in nothing but your Fenty underwear.

"He's family." You applaud yourself mentally for having the brain capacity to formulate all of two words. That celebration, however, immediately falls short when Jaemin snickers. He pulls back, turning his head slightly as his tongue stabs the inside of his mouth before swinging his head back to you.

"You always tell me you only have one, Daddy, don't you?"

A deep, angry heat blossoms around your skin as you evade eye contact. "Jesus, Jaemin."

"Jaemin?" He mocks, before pushing you back further onto wall.

"Is that who I am to you?"

"That is your name, yes." Your confidence waver when his hands begin to push down the straps of bra. He undoes the clasps as he says, "Interesting. So then, i guess, my name wasnt Jaemin, when i fucked you on a nalcony in Mykonos? Got it."

He's quick to push your panties down far enough so that he's forcing his fingers between your legs. The gasp you emit is almost painful as you immediately buck your hips into his hand. “Fuck-”

“You cum on my hand, correct?”

“F-Fuck,” he lets you hump lazily into his palm and you all but whimper as your begin to yearn for him to fuck you with his long digits.

“You cum on my hand. You cum on my cock. Only I can do that for you, baby”

“God, yes, Daddy.”

Jaemin has to physically stop himself from not pulling his pants down and fucking your brains right right and there. Those words leaving your mouth did something animalistic to him- scratching a very archaic part of his monkey brain that let him know that you needed him. You needed him to reach orgasm, you needed him to fuck you to feel good. You needed him.

“You don't need anyone else, but me, right baby?”

You're so dangerously close to the edge, your vision blurring with your oncoming orgasm as you reply, “You, Daddy- only you.”

His cock is pushing painfully against dress pants and Jaemin swear as he pulls his blouse over his head. Your breathing grows even more precipitous when you see his torso in all its big and gleaming glory.

“need you so bad,” you mumble, still pushing your hips out even though his hand has disappeared and there's nothing there.

“Yeah?” He asks, pulling his cock out without breaking eye contact, “You need Daddy’s cock, don't you, sweetheart?”

“I need it,” you whisper and watch as your words affect him in ways you had not seen before.

Jaemin’s eyes are blown into saucers while the tips of his brown hair is drenched in sweat. Gone is the cockiness. Gone is the smirk. He only brings a cupped hand up to your mouth as he orders you to, “Spit.”

Almost without thinking about it, you do just that, and Jaemin watches with an open mouth as he begins to stroke his himself with your wetness. He throws his head back in a broken amalgamation of a moan and a gasp, and you're only left to watch while your hand almost subconsciously moves down your own body.

The sound of your wetness brings Jaemin back to the mission at hand as he lolls his head forward. The sight of you fucking yourself, knuckles deep, as your eyes zero in on his hand, has him immediately pushing you against the wall.

“You're such a fucking slut-” He hisses and you moan as he pulls your hand up to his mouth. “Did Daddy teach you to be a slut?” and when you fail to respond he only says, “Answer me,” he says cooly, “Did I teach you to be a slut, or a good girl?”

You have truly reached a stalemate. Not knowing what to say that might garner a favourable response. Dread pools in your tummy and Jaemin only watches as go to war with yourself. The conflict in your eye is present and raw.

All is quiet as Jaemin bends down slowly and that signature smirk curls at the end of his lips.

“Cute.” He whispers before crashing his lips against yours.

Your hands enclose around the back of Jaemin's hand as he effortlessly picks you up off the ground, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. He pushes you up against the wall and the immediate contact of your dripping pussy pressed against his skin has you both moaning and groaning into the kiss.

“So fucking cute...” He whispers before easing his cock right into you, “You're so fucking tight- fuck-” the wind sounds like it has been knocked clean out of him as he begins to fuck you with harsh, violent thrusts.

“That's it, pretty girl,”

You can hear the smile in his voice and you fight to open your eyes. If there was one thing that got you even wetter it was the sight of Jaemin just managing a lazy open-mouth smile as he forced his cock into your cunt. It stings and hurts but the pleasure in his hooded eyes make the experience all the more worth it.

Jaemin clenches his jaw together as he leans down until you're both forehead to forehead.

“That man downstairs isn't your Daddy, is he?” His eyes dare you to disagree with him but all you do us shake your head as you say, “You. You're my Da- oh God.”

“I'll take that title too,” he chuckles before pushing his face into the crook of your neck as he sped up his pace. Jaemin fucks hard and rough and you claw mindlessly at his back. He loves it. You know he does because his cock is twitching inside of you and you know he's close.

“Fuck-Daddy, please!”

Your begging nearly sends him over the edge but he still manages to keep his thrusts hard and unrelenting. “You gonna cum for me, Princess?”

“F-Fuck yes, Sir-”

“You're not gonna keep me a secret, are you? Promise me. ” You knew what he was doing, forcing you into a mental state of complete disrepair as he bullied his cock into your cunt.

“F-Fuck," he hisses, "Answer me, baby- ‘mgonna fill your cunt so fucking fast,” he breathes out, before throwing his head back again.

“Promise!” You grit out, “I promise-” almost immediately, your orgasm washes over you eliciting wave after wave of delicious pleasure that has your mind rumbling.

“F-Fuck you're so tight- Fuck, Fuck, fuck-!” He exclaims before he's emptying himself inside of you. He's fucking you with the stamina of a caveman as he forces his seed all the way inside. “God you're so sexy, you know that?” He says, with his eyes still clenched shut as his aftershocks pass through his body. “So fucking hot.”

While his mind soars on the wings of his orgasm, that post nut clarit crashes through gradually. You breathe out steadily as you stare into nothingness. “I can't believe I gave our family company away like that,”

A hand is quick to pull you by the chin until you're looking up at him. Even with his wet and matted hair, along with the beads of sweat growing pregnant on his brow, Jaemin remains ever handsome. His smile ever present.

“It's still the family business, Honey.” Jaemin smirks, “Our family.”

♡♡♡ if you made it this far, thanks for reading

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