#For now i like to play and share my scraps | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eightstarr · 2 months ago

Text

at the count of three — ellie williams.

summary: how do you tell your best friend you’re in love with them? ellie has an answer! just be cool and wait for the right moment— and the next. and maybe another one, just to be sure. if you get impatient, you can always take a deep breath and count to three! (years, that is)

warnings: slow burn (childhood friends to lovers <3), little bit suggestive but no smut!

notes: born from a piece of dialogue i wrote like, a year ago and completely forgot about but somehow a week later it's 4k words? idk you're welcome or i'm sorry!!! also yes they do spend almost every scene sitting together on a couch but that's what lesbianism is all about...

don't support the last of us franchise.

daily click. learn about palestine. donate and share!

・。.・゜✧・. ────

ONE!

A movie plays on the TV, a slightly tarnished DVD of an 80’s action flick starring some oily guy and the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen— Ellie doesn't remember much other than an obnoxiously epic soundtrack and lingering shots that made the plot twist too obvious about 20 minutes in.

She's freshly eighteen; you’re ahead only by a couple months. It's a warm Friday night, Joel and your dad in the kitchen putting scraps together for a mildly healthy dinner, Ellie sitting on the very opposite side of the couch from where you are. It’s hot, she'd said, looking away from your comically insulted face that grew with every scooch she made from your side, a lame excuse to save her from the newly found (and fucking torturous) fluttering that sparks in her stomach whenever she sits too close to you.

From the kitchen comes the sound of a can hitting the floor, followed by Joel’s 'shit!' and then quickly, 'sorry, girls'. You chuckle, turning to Ellie and catching her staring at you. A wrinkle forms between your eyebrows at the same time a pink warmth floods her cheeks. “Dude, you’re not even paying attention.”

“I am,” a scoff, her eyes now strictly committed to the screen. “The noise distracted me,” she adds, knowing it didn't even make her flinch from the careful study of your side profile.

“Scaredy cat— ow!” a pillow crashes against your cheek, sudden enough to shock you, too soft to do any real damage. “What the fuck?”

Ellie raises her eyebrows and looks at you from the corner of her eyes, a smirk half hidden by her hand. “Don’t be rude, you're missing the best scene.”

You throw the pillow back and scoff when she catches it, your lips slightly pursed, the signature sign to tell you’re annoyed. It's almost identical to the replica of that gesture that sits at the end of her last journal entry, an overly dedicated sketch born from a wandering thought. She could make it more accurate, she thinks now, soften the line of your jaw, take the scar on your cheek a little more to the left.

The sound of water splashing from the TV catches her attention and Ellie snaps her head forward (lest she get caught staring again), just as the blonde haired love interest is walking out of a fancy looking swimming pool.

“She’s hot,” you say, fingers pulling absentmindedly at loose threads on the rip of your jeans. When Ellie doesn't say anything, you turn to look at her, “You don't think so?”

Her voice comes out a higher pitch than she’d like. “What—” she clears her throat before continuing to mumble, “I don't know, I guess.”

You laugh. “You guess?”

“Yeah, I— I don't know, dude, I wasn't thinking about that.”

You watch the nervousness on her face, the gulp that passes her throat, the red under her freckles. Fondness tugs at your chest and your voice softens just slightly, a smile playing on your lips. “Oh my God. Ellie, it’s okay,” green eyes find your face and she sees you hesitate for a second before you shrug. “Who cares? It's just me.”

You make it sound easy. It's the most distinct thing Ellie remembers about this moment, how suddenly safety felt like the most obvious thing. TV light on your face, your arm over the back of the couch, the same eyes she's been looking at since she was fourteen. Of course it's okay. Everything else with you is easy, why wouldn't this be the same?

Ellie shifts on the couch, the distance between you turning quickly ridiculous— offensive, even. She’s embarrassed to have let her flusteredness get in the way, but the urge to be closer doesn't feel right either. Everything she does feels like too much, everything she says too intense. “How long have you known?” she asks.

You tilt your head, less of a question and more of a guidance, “Known that you…”

Ellie parts her lips, unsure of whether or not she’s gonna say it or how, trying to will the words to come out. And they do, she remembers it well, because it was the first and maybe the only time she was this direct about it. “That I like girls.”

The smile on your face is teeth-rotting sweet, but she only gets to bask in it for a second before you widen your eyes and lower your voice to a scandalized whisper. “You what?”

Ellie rolls her eyes, cheeks burning, “Oh, fuck you.”

Your laugh fills up the room and the fluttering in her stomach feels absurd at this point, like she would actually be able to feel those annoying little butterflies flying around if she were to press her hand against her abdomen. “Sorry, sorry,” you say, and for a terrifying second Ellie thinks maybe they're loud too, and you’re able to hear them. But then she looks at you and forgets about it, easy easy easy. “It’s really okay. You know that, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says. For once, there's not a glimpse of doubt about it to be found.

You watch another ten minutes of the movie in silence before your dad's head peeks out from the kitchen to call you both to the table for dinner.

Ellie has a habit of eating like it's her last day on earth. When you were both new residents of Jackson, hungry and scared and not at all used to the idea of a full plate of food twice a day, she couldn't help it. And you were the same, hence why your dad thought it would be good for you and Ellie to spend time together, which quickly turned to being around each other basically every minute of every day. But as the weeks passed, you seemed to be learning to adapt faster. A younger Ellie found this frustrating— especially after that time Joel complimented your table manners.

You’re just… nicer, she remembers saying, a stressed frown on her still childlike face, fiddling with a box of marbles she’d found under her new bed. She remembers how you pulled one out, your fingers brushing against her own for the first time ever, and held the clear crystal with green stripes next to her eyes, a satisfied smile at a practically perfect match. You’re nice too, Els, you’d said, shrugging your shoulders, the marble shoved inside your pocket, I think I just lie better.

Until that moment, Ellie had never thought about it that way; the fact that you could be pretending to feel more confident and comfortable than you really are to make yourself safer, to get people to like you. But when she asked, you swore you had never lied to Ellie. She used to drive herself mad thinking about that, a strange, confusing worry gnawing at her chest— she likes that you don't feel the need to lie, but what does it say about how you see her? Is it that you don't care if she likes you? Or worse, is it that you know that she already does?

You sit in front of her today at the same dinner table, four years later, and watch her practically inhale her bowl of pasta like no time has passed at all. You let out a snort and Ellie wonders if you can see it even now, if her constant thoughts of you are obvious even when she looks this busy.

"What?" she asks, an immediate frown on her face, though she's done you the honor of swallowing her mouthful before speaking.

"You're so gross," you say, chin resting on your palm, tilting your head like you're looking at some thought provoking art piece. Ellie thinks you'll leave it at that, but then you reach over and swipe your thumb over the red spot of sauce next to the corner of her lips, so soft she barely feels it. You watch her frown soften for a second before it becomes even deeper.

Ellie feels like her whole body is exploding with warmth, too hot under the hoodie she's wearing, too pink across her face. It's so obvious, she thinks, it's so— fuck, pull it together. Her gaze follows your finger as you bring it to your lips and lick off the sauce. “You’re disgusting,” she retorts lamely, her hand rough when she brushes it over her mouth, lest you notice another stain and she has to watch you do that again.

You are familiarly not deterred by her meanness. Or her attempt at it. "And you eat like a five year old,” you shrug. “I guess we both have our issues."

Ellie catches herself staring at your hands for the rest of the meal, certain that she's never noticed them in the same way before. How much time has she been wasting? You both have your issues, you'd said, but Ellie thinks she has you beat. Yours can't possibly be anywhere near this dangerous.

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

TWO!

Someone's knocking on her door. Ellie sniffles and lets out a groan as she gets up from the couch, sore throat, her limbs heavy and tired. She knows it's you because it's always the same three knocks; the first two firm and loud, a pause, and then one tiny one that sounds almost like 'sorry'. You’re impatient but still painfully afraid to be rude— if she loved you a little less, Ellie thinks she would make fun of it a lot more. But alas, she's cursed to smile at it every time.

She opens the door and the breeze that slips in makes her fall immediately into an embarrassing coughing fit. “It’s fine,” she mutters, at the same time you’re saying jesus christ, Ellie. “Shit. I’m okay,” she clears her throat and finally gets a moment to look at you, all pretty and put together in your best shirt and a freshly showered scent, the sun setting behind you like a perfect frame. Ellie prays her lungs don't betray her again and tries to make the brush of her hand over her messy hair look casual instead of desperate.

“Well, I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to the party with me for just a few minutes, but… I’m not sure you should be out of bed,” your worried frown is pretty, too. What a cruel fate. “Is Joel home? I can stay—”

“No, no, you’re good,” Ellie shakes her head, arms crossed over her chest like maybe it’ll cover up enough and you won't notice she was wearing the same long sleeve the last time you saw her. “He’ll be here in like, five minutes. I’ll be fine, ’m not a baby.”

You’re both nineteen by this time, Ellie remembers because you wore the same pretty blue shirt that you're wearing now for her birthday, and it was the day she realized her crush was no longer deniable. It's easier to act like nothing’s happening when she feels like she's alone in it, like there's no universe where you could love her like she loves you so she might as well let the fantasy die— but then you put on your shirt that's reserved for special occasions just to come over and bring her the cupcake you made, and suddenly Ellie can picture herself with her hands on each side of your waist, pulling you close, saying thank you with her lips brushing against yours before she kisses you. She can see it so clearly that it startles her, changes everything. Her birthday comes with a punch to the gut and a hunger she wants to tell you and only you about.

“You’re not gonna be bored? I really don't mind staying until he gets home.”

Ellie thinks (dramatically, extremely nineteen—) that if she lets you take care of her, she might actually die. It felt like she almost did last time you visited, your face serious with concentration as you pressed the back of your hand against her forehead. ‘You're warm’, you said, ‘do you feel sweaty?’ Ellie stared up at you, eyes glossy and heavy from sleep. ‘Not really’, her fingers sneaked out from under the blanket to wrap themselves around your forearm, a moment of bravery or delusion, ‘your hand feels nice’. You chuckled, ‘okay, keep it’.

She’s less feverish today, but not yet recovered from the greedy voice in her head that begs her to keep you close. If you don't go to the party now, she thinks (knows) that she’ll let herself casually talk you into staying the rest of the night. “Nah, don't miss your party,” she says. “I’ll be okay, Joel’s gonna teach me how to play that old card game.”

You raise your eyebrows. “So you're gonna argue all night.”

“No— what?” Ellie scoffs. “It’ll be good, I learn fast.”

“Yeah, because you make up your own rules.”

“I have questions about the rules, that's not the same thing.”

“It is if you cheat—”

“I’m not a cheater!”

You hum, a curious tilt of your head, and Ellie rolls her eyes before the words are even out of your mouth. “No, I guess you’d have to have a girlfriend for that.”

You watch her run her tongue over her teeth, her shoulder against the door frame. “You know I could say the same to you, right?”

“Too bad I said it first,” you shrug, pretty smile stretching your lips. “I guess I'll go, then. I’ll come over when it's done so you don't miss me too much.”

Ellie tries to maintain her composure. You know, she thinks, do you know? You must know. You can't know— “Right. Also so you can steal my food and crash in my bed, I’m guessing.”

“When you’re all vulnerable and weak? What do you think of me, Ellie?” you frown sadly, a hand over your heart.

“I think I know you,” she says, the corner of her lips lifting just a little, inescapably.

You walk to the gate and turn around as you close the lock, your hands on either side of your mouth as if she’s miles and miles away. “I’ll take the couch!”

“Yeah, sure!” Ellie yells back, her voice pretty even when it's hoarse, knowing she’ll hold on for just about ten minutes before she insists you take the bed instead.

Joel stays awake with her until around 10pm, when his yawns become too many to hide and he’s already let Ellie win three games, his smile genuine and wide while she chuckles and pretends she doesn’t notice. He leaves her with a tupperware of soup for tomorrow’s lunch and a deck of cards. To teach your friends or— I don't know, keep on the coffee table, he’d said, make you look cool. Ellie’s not sure you would find a box of cards ‘cool’, but she’s not above trying.

Ever since she moved out to the garage, she’s discovered a new type of stress at the notion of having you over. At Joel’s house, all she ever did to prepare for guests was pick up the dirty clothes from her bedroom floor and put her books in a (wobbly) single pile. Now things are different. The garage is small, but it's all hers— her floor, her living room, her kitchen. She can't have you thinking that she can't take care of things on her own.

She spends the next hour moving things around until finally, two loud knocks. A second passes; Ellie looks at the cards and considers shoving them inside one of the drawers on her desk. By the time the one quiet knock comes, she shrugs and decides to leave them on the coffee table, lest Joel was right and she misses a chance to have you start thinking she's cool and mysterious. “It's open,” she says from the couch, tiredness soon catching up with her after all that time rearranging things.

The door opens and you come in, quickly closing it behind you, a relieved sigh at the loss of that crisp, cold breeze outside. “Did Joel forget those?” you ask, bent at the waist as you take your shoes off, your chin pointing at the deck, the only thing on the coffee table. Maybe she should've been more subtle with it.

“Uh, no,” Ellie scratches the back of her neck, her legs stretched across the couch. “They’re a gift.”

She's not sure you hear her over the groan you make as you stretch your arms above your head, her legs moved to the side automatically to make space for you to sit. You fall down with a sigh and both forget about the cards— you, distracted by the warm tingly feeling of a couple drinks, and Ellie by the new jacket you’re wearing.

She lets a million different scenarios spin around her head for a couple seconds before she blurts out the question. “Whose is that?”

“What?” you turn your head away from the movie playing on the TV.

“The jacket.”

“Oh,” you look down at yourself as if you’ve just remembered it’s there. “Maya was leaving too, so she walked here with me. It’s hers.”

Ellie hums, her back sliding a little further down the couch, legs spread. “Stinks like it’s hers.”

You chuckle before you can help it, her animosity ridiculous and charming— Ellie’s better with actions than she is with words. “I don't even know what you're talking about,” you shake your head, not quite slurring, but not too far from it either. "She smells like strawberries."

Fuck Maya and her strawberry shampoo. Ellie could get some if she wanted to, maybe if she traded— what the fuck is she thinking about? She rolls her shoulders back and pushes the thoughts away, gluing her eyes to the screen. “Sure,” she says, less because she agrees and more because she doesn't wanna hear what else you like about Maya. “You had fun, then?”

“It was alright. You didn't miss out on too much,” the end of your sentence stretched out by a yawn, you cover your mouth lazily and rest back fully against the couch. “Jesse was drunk. They had to stop him from getting up on a table.”

Ellie chuckles. “I don't know, maybe he had something to say. I think I would’ve let him.”

“That's what I said,” you smile and let your head fall to the side, your cheek against the cushion. She feels you staring, enables it for a while by acting oblivious, falsely over-invested in some movie she can't remember the title of. She hears you move closer before she feels it— the shuffle of your clothes, the stupid jacket rubbing against her couch, so easily forgettable by the time your temple falls on her shoulder.

Ellie's about to fall asleep when she hears the little noise you make, something like a sniffle. For a worrying second she thinks she might’ve given you her cold, but then she feels the tip of your nose brush against her shoulder and she realizes you’re trying to breathe her in.

“You always smell nice,” you whisper, half asleep.

Ellie swallows and prays to keep her body completely still, scared she’ll make the wrong move and have you pull away, scared you’ll lean closer and be able to hear the fast beating on her chest. She sounds breathy, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Like fresh rain.”

Slow like the roll of credits playing on the TV, Ellie feels how every muscle in her body settles down, relaxed, content— fucking cocky. She wraps her arm around your shoulders and hopes the scent will rub off on the jacket and remind Maya of a cloudy autumn night, rain over her garden.

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

THREE!

"Do you think we would've liked each other?" you ask, your legs resting on her lap while she fidgets mindlessly with the ruffled cuff of your socks. Every patrol lately ends the exact same way, a quiet walk home and a joint on Ellie’s couch. "Back when the world was normal?”

Ellie turns to look at you, blinking lazily, a reddish hue over her green. You’re not sure if she's more tired or high, but either way you're not doing much better— everything you’ve said during the past hour is the kind of thought you have when you're alone at night and your brain wanders, moments away from falling asleep. It's a meaningless question, but Ellie lets out a soft hum and thinks about it like it's worth considering. You're not sure if anyone you’ve met in your whole twenty years of life is as willing to indulge you as she is.

"Yeah," she says decidedly, in the same tone with which one would say duh. "We—" a yawn cuts her off, slender hand rubbing one of her eyes. "We would be friends, like, in college."

"I wouldn't be in college.”

Ellie frowns, takes one last inhale and discards the joint to the ashtray on her coffee table. "Why not?"

"'Cause I'm not smart like you," you shrug.

The fold between her eyebrows deepens. "You're smart," she argues, with enough conviction that you almost believe her, insisting, "You are."

"In other ways, sure—” Ellie opens her mouth to interrupt but you get ahead of her, “I’m not trying to talk badly about myself, I just don't think college would be for me.”

You’ve never been the most disciplined. It’s hard to imagine yourself staying up late to study, taking diligent notes in class. It feels ridiculous.

“I’d be working somewhere, I think. Making coffee for people or something.”

Ellie pauses before she nods, adjusting her daydream to what you’re saying, strangely committed. "Then we would meet there,” she makes it sound like the easiest thing in the world, a natural equation. “I'd go get coffee from you."

You chuckle. "You don't even like coffee that much."

Ellie shrugs, soft pink lips curved in a smirk that tells you she's sleepy and serves to warn you of the horror that's about to come out of her mouth.

You groan. “Don't—”

"Maybe I like the pretty girl that's making it."

“Awful,” you push her shoulder away, barely any force behind it, her giggles swimming comfortably around your head. “Never speak again.”

"Not my best work?" she asks, her fingers wrapping lazily around your shin. Too much, her brain warns, but then she remembers the pad of your finger over the back of her hand last night, the cursive lines with no purpose other than to be touching her— and it feels right, or like it's not enough. Too much soon turns to coward.

"Possibly your worst.”

She might be going crazy, but lately Ellie feels like you’re looking at her differently. In your eyes there's something gentle, awaiting, a tracing of your eyes over her face that says please. She chews on her lip, her eagerness painful. “We would like each other,” she doesn't think there's a world where you wouldn't, and if there was… "I'd make you like me."

You raise your eyebrows, teasing, "Oh, so like now?"

Her lips part with genuine surprise, more amused than offended. “...I made you, huh?”

You regret the joke as soon as it comes out of your mouth, immediately brought back to your fourteen year old self, lonely and admittedly captivated by the auburn haired girl from next door. Flashes of you rushing to catch up with her, untied laces on your too tight sneakers, Ellie, do you wanna be friends? The sound of pages shuffling and her voice reading in whispers in the dead of night because you asked, can you talk to me until I fall asleep? Infatuated from the beginning, obsessed. Even now, on her couch, after spending a whole day together— do you like me? Would you like me, always?

A pillow crashes against the side of her face, her laugh almost louder than the embarrassed pounding of your heart. You pull your legs from her lap and lie back, fold your arms over your face. “You're so annoying.”

A lie so obvious it makes Ellie smile. She shifts to crawl closer, one knee on either side of you. “C’mon, I was joking,” she leans forward and you feel her knuckles tap your arm like she’s knocking on a door. The power to make you shy is still foreign to her, makes her feel drunk, thrilled. She doesn't remember having it before, but of course it was there. In little ways, in daily, simple things. Your eyes always looking for her first in any room, lighting up even after an especially bad pun, tracing her arms when the day becomes too hot to keep her jacket on. You like her, of course. How much time has she been wasting? The breath she lets out feels like it's been waiting to be let go, years spent stuck in her lungs. Ellie wraps her fingers around one of your wrists, her voice sweet, achingly soft. “Want me to tell you why I know I’d like you?”

You lower your arms just slightly, eyes peering up at her.

“Yeah?” she tilts her head.

You nod, arms coming down, unusually quiet.

Ellie grins, victorious. “Okay, but fair warning— it's worse than the coffee thing.”

You chuckle. “Is it?”

“Very.”

“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think about it, distracted by the vision of her practically sitting on top of you. Freckled face framed by the hair that's escaped her usual bun, softly lit by the warmth of the lamp on her desk. “Alright,” you say finally.

It takes Ellie a second to respond, momentarily dazed by the thought of being pretty enough for you to ogle like this. She clears her throat. “You ready?”

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear and away from her eyes. “Sure.”

Ellie waits for the nerves to come, but even as she parts her lips to speak, they never do. What a kind fate. “I know I’d like you because nothing’s ever made more sense to me— I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. I like you enough for a million lifetimes.”

You look at each other, bask in a moment of understanding. Your eyes on her lips, a hand on her waist that pulls her closer. “That was worse,” you agree.

Ellie moves to rest on her forearms, cages you in, her nose brushing against yours. “I told you.”

She waits, feels herself count once again, a final time, one, two—

A hand against the back of her neck brings her in and the quiet noise of her surprise vibrates against your lips, makes her smile into the kiss for just a second before the hunger takes over. Her hips readjusting over yours, knees pressing against your sides, Ellie kisses like it's a need rather than a whim. She takes and takes and swallows every sigh you make like it's a gift, four, five, six seconds of a messy trail of kisses down your neck to say thank you before she resurfaces again.

“Love you,” she breathes out, because suddenly all that talk about ‘like’ feels stupid— immature, incomparable to what she actually feels for you. “Need you.”

You moan against her lips and it's her favorite sound in the whole world, immediately, as quick as realizing she would fall in love with you the day she met you. “Love you, Ellie.”

A kiss to your clavicle, your hands pulling at her shirt and her thigh between yours. She makes you say it three more times.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff #ellie x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams imagine #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams smut #loser!ellie #ellie williams fanfic

883 notes · View notes

ja3hwa · 1 month ago

Text

♡ 𝐌𝐫. 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐰𝐝𝐲 | 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐇𝐰𝐚 ♡

Day Twenty-Three - Masked man

【Synopsis】 : You haven't seen your friends in years given you had been overseas studying. Now that you're back, you've noticed how much they've all grown. And what better to celebrate your return than an innocent party.

『Word count』 : 13.34k

-> Genre: Smut. Dark Romance. Pwp.

Pairing: ChildhoodFriends!SanHwa x Female!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Alcohol.Cnc themes. Dark themes. Predator/Prey Play. Rough play. Slight dubcon. Strangers-friends-lovers themes. Mention of Mingi and the others joining in. Wearing masks during sexual activities. Pervi mingi, hehe. Breast play. Dirty talk. Fingering. Clit play. Multiple orgasms. Unprotected sex. Breast play. Hickies. Biting. Pet names (doll, darling sugarcube, bunny, good girl. Princess). Degrading (use of slut, whore and fucktoy). Photographs and videos taken during sex. Seonghwa has a tittie obsession...(whoops) Mentions of mxm and jerking off. Swearing. Heavy making out. Handjob. Ass play. Anal finger. Dirty talk. Messy sex. Manhandling. Threesome. Mention of fucking eight men at once (whoops). San and Seonghwa tagteam the reader. Face fucking. Oral.

Note: So... I finally have been able to repost this fic. I know a lot of you enjoyed it, but truth be told, the person who i considered a friend had used my trust to "help" me make this fic, since it was my first time writing dark cnc themes. They had taken the idea and some of the plot ideas from another writer from a different fandom. And i later found out from someone reaching out to say this fics shared a similar plot. So I've taken the time to scrap the fic and rewrite it, taking most of the contribution of that person out of it. So this will be different from what the one i originally posted. Again, this is a public apology to the mix ups and to a warning to be careful who you trust on the internet. ♡

Networks: @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Tip Jar ♡

The party was loud and crazy. Not your type of scene at all. But your best friend, Yunho, threw it to celebrate him and his dance crew winning their first competition and, of course, to celebrate you finally coming home. At first, you pleaded with Yunho, not wanting to have the attention put on you, so this was the best alternative.

A joint celebration.

Getting ready for this stupid party got you anxious beyond knowing. It had been years since you’d seen them. You were close with all of them as you all basically grew up together in your teen years. But when you went to college overseas for a couple of years. It was like meeting different people when you had graduated and came back home. They had all grown so much, and since you were out of the country, it was hard to keep in contact with all of them. All of them except Yunho, who even flew over a couple of times to see you.

But you were back now and hanging out with eight grown-ass men that still act like children has become increasingly hard. Most of them act as if nothing changed and as if you weren’t gone for over six years. But then there was Seonghwa and San. They were different. Not in a bad way, of course, but still... strange. It's like they were more touchy. San’s hand would linger longer on your lower back when you were all out heading to a restaurant when you first got back. Or when you were over at Yunho’s place getting ready for said night and you couldn’t get your dress zipped up, and luckily Seonghwa just happened to walk past Yunho’s room and spot you struggling.

His finger gazed over your long back tattoo you had gotten while away, whispering so softly that it was beautiful and how it suited you. For a moment, you swore he was going to zip it down instead of up just so he could get a peek at your soft plump ass. Cause you see both San and Seonghwa liked you—a lot. Ever since you were teens, both men had a crush on you. They loved spending time with you, listening to you laugh, and they loved how you were always comfortable around them. Freely snuggling, late-night chats.

But they needed more.

San used to sneak into Seonghwa’s room and chat about all the filthy things they thought of you. And god, the shyness you had just made them know that if they were to say those things aloud, you would certainly freak. No, they were both under the assumption you were too innocent to know how much you affected them. You tortured them. Like the way you cuddled up to San on his couch, acting all sweet with your tits pressed firmly against his side and your head resting on his chest while you watched movies. Or when you had asked Seonghwa to spoon you sometimes cause you were stressing about work and your soft ass would be pressed so nicely against his lap. Just inches away from his aching hard cock.

Oh, the way he would imagine shoving his cock between your thighs fucking them roughly. San would continue saying he sometimes pictures coming deep inside your pussy, claiming you as his. Both of them were drugged on the idea of you. And as years went by and you disappeared for six years, it broke them. All the others went on to dating and enjoying life but the two of them were stuck on you. Like they were unable to move on from you.

And then you came back. You were just as beautiful. More even, as the day you left. You were a grown woman with lustful desires. And they were just the men to help you.

They got their friends to help them get out of the friend zone, getting plenty of suggestions for cute dates and lovey-dovey confessions. But San came up with an idea that Seonghwa knew would be even more perfect than their friend's proposals. Now, all they needed to do was play their cards right, or risk ruining their friendship and / or coming off as a creep.

“Come on, yuyu, I already agreed to this party. What more do you want.” You laughed, sipping on your drink that Wooyoung had fixed for you. It was just you, Wooyoung, and Yunho sitting on the couch in the boy's house. Yunho was trying to get any gossip out of you about your life away, but you really had nothing to say. And then he asked about any special someone. “I’m not about to let you play matchmaker. Last time you tried, you set me up with a skittish boy.” It wasn’t like that poor boy wasn’t nice at all, but he just wasn’t exactly your type.

“Oh, so who would you prefer? Mingi or San, perhaps? Oh, what about someone like Seonghwa,” Wooyoung chuckled, entering into the lounge with a tray of snacks. Your face became flustered all too quickly, hearing Wooyoung call out a bundle of his friends' names, but who really caught your attention was San and Seonghwa. They were both so sweet, like true gentlemen, and they were very attractive, but there was always something missing.

“I mean... They are hot and all.” You trailed off feeling a wave of embarrassment. You’ve never been one to talk about your love life, especially to your friends. You looked briefly around the room, staring at the hallway for a moment, making sure there was no one else in the room. But little did you know Seonghwa and San were in the kitchen getting their own drinks to come and join you. They had asked Wooyoung to slip in the idea of the two, curious of what your answer might be. They had both realised you had never really called them attractive before, let alone something like hot. San gave the other man a surprised expression at the sheer thought of them being good-looking in your eyes. Like a hint of pride burned in their chests. But something got stronger... A feeling... a worried feeling.

“I think there’s a but...” Seonghwa whispered to the younger male.

“I just... I don’t really know..” You rubbed your thumb against the cold glass.

“Let me guess,” Wooyoung tucked his feet under his ass before taking a quick sip of what you assumed to be Soju with some strawberry soda mixed with it. “You need someone to fuck the living daylights out of you and you think they won't make the cut....” His words made you spit out your drink.

Then Yunho continued, “You probably want someone to fuck you like a whore. and you can't deny this, we have gotten drunk to many time for you to hide any of your secrets.” Yunho cackled, making you slap his shoulder, almost making him spill his drink. You felt so embarrassed but it wasn’t because you were worried they’d wouldn't fuck you like a slut. You were worried you’d like fucking them in general too much if they did. So you had to correct them.

“They are sweet guys. Gentlemen. They wouldn’t do such a t-thing.”

“No, no, I get it.” Wooyoung chimed in, wiping his tears from the corner of his eyes from laughing too hard. Frustration built up in the men that stood in the kitchen, San even going as far as mouthing ‘what the fuck’ to Seonghwa as he began to pace around the room. That was the ultimate reason you never really showed them they had a chance. You thought neither of them could fuck you properly? They were too nice for you? All this time hiding their secret desires from you, being too worried they’d scare you off cause you were such a shy little thing. They never even thought that you were just as sex depraved as them?

Seonghwa and San decided to sneak back to Hwa’s room in order to complete their plan now that they know about your secret desire to be fucked like a bitch in heat. They were going to have fun and this party was going to be the perfect cover for their sinister plan.

So this brings you back to the present. Wandering through crowds of people dressed in various stage outfits the boys had performed in. Most of them dressed at these people called "evil ones" or as fans started to call them "halateez." The clothing was cool, Gothic cyberpunk. Something you've never really worn before. You decided on one of their more light-hearted dance costumes. It was during when they first started doing competitions, and someone had suggested white outfits for one of their performances, and luckily, they all agreed. So here you were in bunny ears like Seonghwa had and a white knee-length poofy dress with a sweetheart neckline, and instead of a silver puffer jacket you opted for a silver shawl.

To say you stick out like a sore thumb was an understatement.

But you tried to enjoy yourself nonetheless. Wooyoung had dared you to sleep with someone, and you now being a full-grown adult able to make perfectly reasonable decisions, of course, took up Wooyoung’s stupid bet even though you were freaking out about it. This wasn’t something you would normally do. No, you are someone to stay home, cuddle up with your favourite plushie as you friend the filthy dark fantasies no one knew about. But here you are, scanning your eyes around the house from just standing in the doorway of the lounge room, looking to see if anyone caught your eye and let's get this straight, proving Wooyoung wrong was something you took great pride in...

The whole house was open and lively. The large living room had all its furniture against the wall, making room for a dance floor and table with a huge speaker set, blasting loud music.

You had to shake your head at the fact you were actually contemplating Wooyoung’s stupid idea. The said man and one of his friends found you. They linked their arms with yours, leading you down the hallway to the kitchen where your best friend and host, Yunho, was hanging out. He was dressed like a pirate—completed with a hat and sword— and held himself with the confidence of one. You took in all the other boys, seeing all their various spectator costumes. Hugging each of them, you notice Mingi and his open vest outfit with big round shades on the top of his head. He finished his fit with a cane. Kinda making him look like a sexy version of Willy Wonka.

"Where's San and Hwa?" You asked, well half-shouted in Mingi's ear as they all went back to chatting amongst themselves. The only two boys that weren't present were the two you were hoping to see. You had to brace yourself on Mingi’s broad shoulders, standing up on the tip of your toes to make sure he could hear every word you said.

Mingi just smirked at you while you leaned in close to him. He gazes down your body as you speak, letting him see perfectly down the dress you're wearing. "They seem to be running late, Princess. Something about missing a part of their costumes." Mingi answered sweetly, turning his head so his jaw rubbed against your cute little chubby cheek, making you hum slightly, all the while he eyed your plump chest without being too obvious about it of course.

Your whole body shuddered at the feeling of Mingi so close to you. His hand snaked around your waist so he could support you up. You tried to ignore the rush of thrill he managed to send through your body. Opting to pull away and pout at him for what he said. Trying to shake any lusting thoughts that started to appear. "Damn… Okay well could you hold my stuff please, so I can go dance.”

You hummed, holding your purse tightly in your grasp as you gestured to your dress not to be very accommodating for your little purse and phone since there were no pockets. Mingi had to sigh, letting his eyes now freely raked down your body. Taking in your outfit that besides being a knee-high dress, it matched Seonghwa's stage outfit to a tea. He was kind of jealous that you dressed like one of his members instead of him.

You could tell Mingi was bluntly checking you out, playing it off like he was just simply looking at you. Redness appeared slightly on your cheeks, feeling a sense of pride mixed with shyness. The beefcake of a man grabbed your stuff before you could say anything else;

“Of course I’ll look after it, princess. Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” He gave you a charming smile watching him slip your stuff into his large pant pockets before zipping it up, making sure it wouldn’t slip out. You murmured a little flustered, thank you having no idea how Mingi could have possibly heard it over the music, but your hand on his chest let you feel the little hum he made, making you know he heard you. And for just a moment, it lingered. Your bodies close to one another. Mingi smelt like fresh pine, musk, and wine. The scent etching in the back of your brain making you dizzy. You needed to pull away from him now before you do something stupid.

“I-I’m going to go find the others now.” Your eyes caught his in an intense gaze, making you feel hot and bothered. A smirk curved on his full lips while his tongue poked out to trace them ever so slightly. You hadn’t realised you were fixated on them until someone shouted, getting your attention.

“Have fun, princess. If you ever need something, come find me.” He brought your face only inches away from his so he could whisper in your ear, making sure to linger there for a moment before letting you go entirely.

After you left, most of the other boys flaked, heading to the dance floor or to mingle with whoever else was invited. Mingi and Yunho, on the other hand, stayed in the kitchen, watching all the chaos unfold as they took another round of shots together. That was when San and Seonghwa finally showed up, walking swiftly through the halls towards the other men. Mingi had kept his eyes on you the whole time, seeing you were now standing and chatting with some old high school friends near the dance floor. His stare dragged from your ass to finally look at the men of the hour, seeing San and Seonghwa were definitely dressed to impress.

“She's is already here.” He said while Yunho nodded in confirmation, pointing in your direction so the two men who were dressed head to toe in black tackle wear, and scream masks hanging off their belts could take a look at you. Both Seonghwa and San glanced in your direction knowing full well who their friends were suggesting to. They both eyed your figure, seeing the outfit you were wearing. The way the end of your dress was fluttering while you swayed side to side, clearly deep into whatever conversation you were having. And the way you were dressed looked like Seonghwa’s stage fit, in particular got Hwa aching in his pants. He wanted nothing more than to bend you over where to stand and claim your pussy while everyone watched in shock.

Hwa had to shake the lewd thoughts from his mind as both him and San turned back to their friend, who happened to be holding out a phone. Your phone to be exact. “She gave this to me to hold onto.” Mingi smirked as he noticed jealousy was brewing in both men in front of him. And for a moment the thought of you letting anyone but them hold onto your things circled in their minds. Mingi could sense the shift in their eyes, only smirking at the thought of successfully getting under their skin. And the worst thing out of it all, the two men weren’t oblivious to the way their friend looked at you. Heck, they all looked at you just the same. Seonghwa and San had planned to get to the party before you to ensure the others didn’t get any ideas towards you. But deep down they knew, none of them would encourage you or give you any offer you wouldn’t like.

“I’ll be taking that.” San grabbed the phone before slipping it into his large pant pocket by his knee. All the boys then gazed back in your direction, spotting you were now dancing with some random people you most likely knew from school. Both men got a better look at your outfit this time. How soft and shiny the material of your flowy dress was that sat beautifully on your body. How your breasts swelled at the top, or how your ass was perfect enough to grab. The cherry on top was how your legs looked, plump thighs on display for everyone to see. When you twirled again both San and Seonghwa watched the way your tits jiggled with every move you took. San let his eyes wander to your hips, watching them twist and jitter to the sound of the music around you, curiously wondering what kind of underwear you had on. Were they cute, pink even, a little bow in the front or were they sluty? Something he could easily rip in half if he needed too.

“She seems pretty rowdy tonight...” Mingi’s words caught the attention of the two men. He then quickly glanced around the room, making sure no one was eavesdropping the conversation. It was then he noticed Yunho had been whisked away to get refills. Typical, leaving him alone with these two crazies.”She was ready to kiss me before. But she ran off towards the dance floor.” Mingi chuckled, seeing the pure shock on their faces. He got up from the bar stool he was sitting on so he could pat both of their shoulders, “Have fun with her, doubt she’s gonna come quietly.”

Mingi laughed at his little joke as he waltzed off to find Yunho. Both San and Seonghwa on the other hand but simply smirked, not letting themselves think with anything less than pure confidence that they’ll get you begging them by the end of the evening. Crying to them to take you out of the friend zone. They were going to make it their mission to get you outta your shell and make you confess your deepest, darkest secrets. Neither of them could wait any longer to watch you come apart on each of their cocks, have you bent in half with your ass perfectly displayed for them while one of them pounded your cunt.And then pining you in another odd position so the other can fuck your mouth until you were crying through your release. Although San and Seonghwa have clued in their friends to their plan to fuck you, they hadn’t told the extent of the rough plan they had to completely ruin you for any other man.

“Oh don’t worry, we have a plan,” Seonghwa answered confidently, flicking his gaze at San with a knowing expression.

“Why, you wanna go around with her or something Min?” San cocked his brow, making Mingi give the male in front of him a long firm glance, trying to think whether the question was a trap or not. But he just shrugged, downing the last of his drink as if to say he’d fuck around and find out.

“Hey, man I’d be more happy to dick her down.” He said smugly. “But you know you probably should accept your prize before you go around waving the trophy like some sort of offering.” Mingi shot a cheeky look before disappearing into the crowd without another word.

You started to feel a sense of loneliness filling your emotions as you too amongst sweaty bodies and loud beats of music. you had explored the second floor and most of the rooms on the first, but you could seem to find San or Seonghwa. You were starting to think they weren’t going to show. You had to shake your head in embarrassment thinking about what if Wooyoung spilled the beans about your stupid plan to seduce them. Let's face it you weren’t cut out with all this flirting and wooing and blah blah. You weren’t cut out for anything, but your alone time.

You turned to look back into the kitchen to see if any of the boys were still there, but then an overwhelming presence caught your attention that loomed against the wall of the large hallway. Your breath hitched seeing the two very tall men standing out in the crowd. Even though you couldn’t see either of their eyes, you knew their intense gaze was on you. They were both dressed the same head to toe, and their ghostface masks matched except one was the original mask, and the other was a shiny red style. Your eyes trailed down, finding their t-shirts were tucked into black cargo pants that hung low on their trimmed waist, the bottom of their pants both disappearing into black combat boots.

You shook your head, trying to shake the idea of any other men other than the ones you wanted. So you turned and almost blotted towards the garden, hoping to see if the boys were there. The two men looked at one another, knowing they both had a confused expression. This was going to be harder than they expected. The shyness was going to be harder to crack than they thought.

Standing out on the patio, you see partygoers dancing and cheering on the deck. Your eyes once again met one of the masked men. And even though their faces were covered, you knew their gazes were constantly fixated on you. There was no doubt they were grinning like Cheshire cats. You needed to know who these two men were. But more importantly, needed to get away from the loudness. You noticed the fire pit down the small hill of the back yard, and if you stretched your stare further, it led to forestry. a forest that just so happened to have a clubhouse you and your friends built way back when. No one knows about it other than the boys and you.

I wonder if it's still up? You thought, quickly forgetting about the two men that you have been coincidentally running into the past hour, but yet neither of them made a move to talk to you. You noticed fewer people milling about the further you walked. Some still circled around the fire pit while others were making out behind oak trees. You ignored them all, heading down the slow-sloping grass hill. The sound of the party and the thumping ear-bashing bass grew distant the further you walked.

Once at the edge of the trees, you dug your heels into the soft earth so you would stop yourself for a moment. A strange feeling circled you at the thought you were being watched. Looking around, you saw nothing, which in toe, made your gut twist further. You looked back at the house and spotted Mingi standing on the deck, leaning on the wooden railing. Though It was too far to tell exactly, you had a feeling Mingi had been watching you the entire time. It doesn’t appear to ease the jitters in your gut though, but you decide to keep going, shaking the walking red flag that seemed to loom over your body. For some reason, you had become desperate to see the old little clubhouse. See if it’s still standing. Maybe it was nostalgia or just the alcohol running through your veins. Whatever it might be, you pushed past the feeling of having eyes on your back as you finally spotted the old rustic tree house you came all this way out for.

Opening the latch with a little tug, you managed to climb the wonky stairs that led into the old oak cabin-like structure. It was built around the trunk of a large old elm tree, so the trunk went straight through the ‘living room’ as you and the boys called it. The rusty creak of the door catches your attention, and your heart jumps out of your chest suddenly spinning back to where the gate is. “I’m losing my mind...” You shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. Maybe you shouldn't have had those shots of soju with Yeosang before heading down here.

“I wouldn’t sell yourself short there sugarcube.” Your head snapped in the direction of the voice, and if it wasn’t for the full moonlight shining through the plastic-covered windows, you wouldn’t have seen the man who owned the said voice. He was one of the men wearing the Ghostface masks. Unlike the other male who wore the traditional one, he wore a red one with little devil horns on the top.

“W-Who are you?” The two men had been following you all night, and it's only now come to your attention that they were the eyes you felt while you walked through the woods. They had followed you here. To sacred ground. You and your friends hide away from the real world. But what really started to cloud your mind was the fact you couldn’t help but notice his voice. Without the loud music and wasted people around you, crashing into you every time you moved. You sensed a hint of familiarity. Your head tilted slightly as you tried to take the mysterious man's full statue. Now that you thought about it, his whole demeanour was familiar.

“Well aren't you the cutest thing.” you were starting to wonder where the other man might have been given these two had seemingly always travelled in pairs from your knowledge. And though his voice startled you, you were not surprised to hear it.

“I…” You replied to the white Ghostface.

“I could eat you all up. You would like that Bunny?” he urged this time, a thread of desperation in his tone. You felt your head spin at his tone, wondering just how you managed to end up in some kind of dark fantasy of yours. Not that you were complaining. But the man's voice started to buzz around in your brain... you thought for a moment you recognized it, but you didn’t know for sure who it might belong to. You were fighting an inner battle of logic and lust and you were about to throw all the screams of caution your brain was giving you out the fucking window. And besides, you knew if there was any true danger and you no longer wanted to do anything, Mingi would most likely stay on the patio until you showed up again, so he would come running if you screamed loud enough.

“I...Yes” You murmured in a short hum as you watched him relax physically at your vocal approval. You could practically hear the giant smirk in his voice as the other man replied...

“To be eaten it is, sugarcube.” The red ghostface held his gloved hand out for you to take. And for a moment, you just stared at it. Stared at him. Your eyes tracked up his toned arm to the spooky ghostface mask then past him, looking into the pitch black of the thick woods beyond the window. You weren’t sure what they had planned for you, but the way your core was begging... leaking at the pure thought of being railed in your high school hang out had you thinking about all the red flags in this scenario. As your gaze lands on the black eyes of the red ghost mask you slowly let out a staggered breath, feeling his body heat consume you. Maybe you should be scared. Maybe you should just use the safe word or try to run back to the party and forget about everything. But with their sinful aura and their lingering words, you pressed closer.

“Oh, Bunny.” The white ghost face man growled, tugging your waist from behind until you were turned around, facing him. He slowly walked you back until you were pressed firmly against the old oak wall. Your little fabric shall had luckily protected your shoulders from the itchy chipping wood, and with his rough grasp just below your ass, he lifts your legs up with ease until they wrap snugly around his hips, successfully pinning you to the wall. You could feel the man's massive bulge in his pants against your dripping core. Your mind spun at the feeling of him being so close and for the first time tonight you had sworn you had in fact lost all of your marbles. “We are gonna fuck you so hard, you'll be begging for us to stop.”

With that lustful whisper hanging in the air, your mind went blank. The red ghost face reached down and shoved your poofy dress up so it could sit around your hips, showing off your frilly black panties with a cute little bow on the front. This adorable piece of fabric was the only thing protecting your sweet pussy from these two very large men’s eyes. The white ghost let out a deep, sadistic growl at the sight, while red whistled, “Fuck sugarcube, ain’t these the cutest darn things.” He muttered, his black-gloved fingers tracing the side of the garment. Without a second thought he wrapped the fabric around his fingers and pulled, snapping the thing cotton from your shivering body. “Too bad I had to do that.”

You let out a loud gasp as you shivered under Red’s big arms. You’ve never experienced such roughness before and it sent your mind into a haze. You could feel a warmth drip down between your thighs. Good god you’re enjoying this a little too much. Before the man discarded the broken fabric, he took notice at the obscene amount of silk that coated the cotton. You could suddenly feel the cool night breeze against your most sensitive area, making you whine.

Not a moment after, the whine from the cold air changed to one of pleasure as you felt white this time, sliding his gloved fingers between your folds, pushing lightly against your clit. You couldn’t help it… you shifted your hips in time of the strangers movements. Trying, silently begging to let him slide his appendages inside you. Your cunt was already so wet and ready, and the feeling of being empty was beginning to drive you insane. It was like every nerve in your body was being set on fire, screaming to be fucked by your pretty strangers.

“Such a needy fucking thing,” Red, or was that white? Gritted his teeth like he was clenching his jaw. Whites fingers pinch your clit making you cry. He couldn't get enough in his sight if only he didn't have this fucking mask on. they both craved the way your body responded to them, their sweet little friend, practicality begging for them to fuck you. "She's so fucking wet and warm. it's like this pretty cunt is just begging for our cocks, isn't that right bunny?"

“Please. Yes.” You answered him with a sigh, your voice shaky and pitched higher than normal. “Need you both, please.” You pleaded again, reaching out to tug on White’s belt, silently asking him to take it off. But he swatted your hands away with a grunt making the other man laugh.

The red ghost face gripped your face in his hand while the other teased the top hem of your dress. he brought his covered face just inches from your own, as if he was trying to get an close up look at your desperate expression “I don't think you sound nearly as desperate enough just yet for either of our cocks, hmm?" you could basically hear the sharp grin in his voice.

A large hand is placed upon your chest, making you hold your breath. You can feel the heat radiating from just a simple touch. You swallowed thickly as Red gripped the front of your dress, pushing white away so he could pull you off the wall and tug you towards the floor. You can’t help but cry out as you land onto one of the old long floor cushions in the clubhouse. He’s so lucky it was there otherwise this entire thing would be over. You blow out a huff of air as you look at both men with a devious smirk. You can feel how intense both of their gazes are. Looking you up and down and taking everything in. If this is how they want to play, then....

“If I knew this was how my night was going to end. I would have spoken to you two sooner.” You giggled, opening your legs, your dress hiked up your thighs to reveal yourself slightly on accident. But both men growled either way...

Red quickly dropped down to you a little too eagerly. His hand placed firmly on your navel, pushing a small amount of pressure. The touch itself left you breathless. White joins your side, and his hands are quick to your breasts. You grab his wrist, a little hesitant. You meet his gaze under the mask, and he waits for you. Biting your lip, thinking, and wondering, you venture and guide his hand under your dress to your bare breast. You hear White shakily breathe out a quiet ‘fuck’ which goes straight to your gut. He flicks a thumb over your nipples before giving your breast a firm squeeze.

You whine softly as two fingers easily slip into your slick cunt. By instinct or just by pure need, you go to close your legs in order to gain friction but a strong hand on your inner thigh stopped that. Giving you a light tap to keep them open. You find yourself breathing heavily and lost in thought. God is this really happening? You thought, arching your back upwards.

The white ghost-faced man pulled your dress down from your breast, revealing them to the cold air. Your nipples harden and white runs his thumb over them again, fixated on the way your body responds to his delicate touch. If only you could kiss him, see who was exactly gifting you the pleasure from your fantasy. You felt a slight guilt twinge inside you, swearing at yourself for imagining your friends, Seonghwa and San. Would they ever do this to do? That was the thought that mixed with flashes of their face as white leaned closer to you, letting his mask almost touch your cheek. You reach out for the mask on the man’s face, your hand shaking from Red’s fingers fucking into you at a slow but brutal pace. But white’s hand comes flying up and grabs your wrist, moving your hand back away.

“Not now, bunny,” He chuckles lightly. His voice was so familiar, but it was becoming very hard to concentrate when a third finger was added amongst the others. The stretch made you feel dizzy, but with how wet you are, it’s an easy fit. You felt Red shift your legs higher up his hips so he was able to reach for something out of his back pocket with his free hand.

"I think we should record this, don't you?" he asked, but not to you, no, he asked his friend that was sitting so patiently next to the two of you.You mind was too fuzzy to even hear the rest of the brief conversation, it was only until you heard a quick flicker of a camera and a flash being turn on that you shook your head slightly out of the clouds. The bright light near blinded you as your vision was still a blur, he moved the angel of the light towards his gloved fingers, capturing a glance of his long appendages deep inside your soaking cunt. You suddenly became all too aware that he was taking a video of his actions. He was filming himself pleasuring you.

He could see the way your clit throbbed in pleasure and the way you clenched around nothing. You never knew you’d be into being recorded but here you are, feeling a sense of desire from just being on display for these two men. You rolled your hips for him, watching how his shoulders visibly shifted with a groan following. He watched intensely through the phone alone with white as his fingers slid in and out of your soaked hole. “Fuck, I’m gonna watch this later while I fuck my hand.” His breathy voice shattered around you as he picked up his thrusts of his fingers, making you cry.

“Please, f-fuck.” You screamed, wanting to feel everything he could possibly gift you. Craving to feel the stretch of their cocks. Begging to feel anything from them. And the way his fingers hit you in all the right spots was almost perfect as you feel another high building quickly in your lower tummy.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet, Bunny,” White groaned, watching Red fuck you harder with his fingers. “Can you hear the sounds of your pussy from here.” he laughed, leaning over to grab the camera off Red so he could continue recording while Red used his now free hand to circle your clit while he continued to assault your hole. You could feel a sense of humiliation mixing with the blissfulness of pleasure Red gifted you. Even with your heart pounding in your chest and both men’s harsh breathing in their masks, you could still hear the lewd sounds that came from fingers pumping in and out of you.

He fucked you faster. The sounds only grew louder with your moans as each thrust sent your mind into a daze. “More, please,” you begged, breaking into a sob, feeling tears pool against the corners of your eyes.

“Mmm, that’s it Doll, beg for me,” Red growled, shoving his fingers out of you to give your pussy a harsh slap before plunging his fingers back inside you. You choked out a ragged moan as your head shook against the old cushion with your hips writhing against his body.

“Please. I’m gonna cum. Please, I need it so badly.” you chanted, begging, just needing a little push. But Red seemed to understand what your body was craving, so when he suddenly whistled over his friend, that’s when you felt a hand cover your eyes and then a wet sensation met your nipples. It was white's mouth, suckling on your tit with a sharp inhale. Your back arched at the feeling followed by the most degraded you ever made.

“Good girl, take my fingers. Cum all over them.” His praises, mixed with a raspy voice that was muffled by the mask caused your head to spin. “We need to stretch you out nicely before we fuck you.” he continued with a sadistic chuckle. The way he was so consumed with your body was almost insane. You were so focused on your own pleasure the alarm bells, questioning who these two men were, in your brain had become only a distant natter. You were almost there. Pushing against white more, tugging on his bicep, you felt his hand slipping from your face. The alarm bells that were going off before were even louder now, trying to warn you about something. About them? With fumbling, impatient hands, your fingers gripped around the hem of white's shirt before tugging one last time. His hand slipped completely off your eyes, what you were faced with left a loud, sharp gasp to leave your lips.

”Seonghwa!? San?!” your scream came out with gasping confusion. Suddenly everything around you became very real. The two men who were strangers only seconds ago and the camera that was still in fact recording. You were utterly stunned by your two friends. Their faces are dark, cold with smug smirks. Their usually neat locks were now messy from the masks. Lust shot through your body as your cunt tightened around San’s fingers, fearing he would pull them out. But in the next breath, the feline male shoved his thick fingers mercilessly into you, his thumb rubbing harshly against your clit with the mission of getting you to your release. Everything becomes overwhelming. You were already on the brink of the best orgasm in your life and now the shock of your friends being the ones beneath the masks had caused a mixture of pleasure and excitement, throwing you completely over the edge. You hit your head slightly on the floor, you jaw slacked as you scream their names while you can all over San’s fingers. Seonghwa never stopped his assault on your breasts, leaving love bites in his wake.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking good for me, such a pretty little thing.” San uttered softly as he helped you through your high. His arm stretched out to take the phone from the other male, who still refused to unlatch his lips from your mark skinned. Widening his finger, San watches your walls clamp down on them, capturing your cum leaking out of you on camera. “You’re doing so well, baby. Fuck look at you, clenching around my fingers like a good fucktoy.”

Lost to the feeling of your mind-blowing orgasm so all you could do was whimper in response, feeling overly sensitive with Seonghwa still abusing your tits. “S-Sannie, Hwa…” You cried, moving one of your hands until it found Seonghwa’s toned chest, snaking it upwards till you met his shoulders.

San seemed to have understood what your little plea meant as he quickly and swiftly switched off the phone, the bright light no longer lingering over your body. And in a heartbeat, he was gently placing your legs to the ground. It was now Seonghwa's turn to sit between your thighs, covering your body with his, making you hold in your breath. You couldn't help your heart from racing, trying to process the fact that your two friends—Kind, sweet, and caring Seonghwa and San— had been the two men under the masks all along. It almost somehow didn't feel real. You had known them for years after all, and you would have never thought they'd be like this. The fact that San had finger fucked you in your guy's old hangout while Seonghwa litter your chest with hickies just didn’t make sense.

"Oh my god..." You whispered in confusion against your hand as you pinched your brow. You had to push Seonghwa's chest so you could sit up away from them for a moment. Both of them carried a guarded expression, eyes wary. But there was a lustfulness still in their features. Something you’d never seen before in either of them. Something they managed to keep buried deep inside so you would never see it.

You didn’t have time to ponder how your friends were able to make your pussy throb with just a simple look as Seonghwa grabbed your hips, pulling you back down onto the soft cushioning. San snatched both your wrists, pinning them above your head with a proud smirk as you both watched Seonghwa grope a handful of your tits roughly, giving them a sloppy kiss.

"God these fucking tits. You are so perfect, Bunny." Seonghwa groaned as he ducked back down to suck your right nipple harshly, "beautiful.." he murmured against your skin as if he was only talking to himself. You grind your hips against his, desperately trying to find any type of friction your body seemed to crave. A whine broke free from your lips, making your head spin. You were so needy already and a part of you couldn’t believe such a thing. Especially after the leg shaking high San had only gifted you just minutes before.

"H-hwa, please." You had no real idea why you were begging, but you felt like you needed to nonetheless.

Seonghwa grinned against your chest, but San was the one to whisper in your ear, "You sound so fucking beautiful when you beg Sugarcube."

San wasn’t paying attention it seemed, like he had falling into his own little world while he slid his fingers against your neck and along your arms slowly, like he was taking his time to explore your body, "You have no idea how long we've dreamt about you." he admitted, gaze now fixated on the way Seonghwa kissed down your chest towards your navel. “Do you know how many times, we would be up late, fucking our own fists or each others to the thought of what your sweet little cunt might feel like.”

A growl ripped free from Seonghwa, the sound barely human, from the words his friend spilled. Seonghwa then moved swiftly, digging his arms under your back so he could hold you tight. You could feel the breath being forced from your lungs as he tugged you up until, in an instant, his lips found yours. This kiss was not the sweet gentle one you imagined Hwa would give you, no, this one was rough and filthy as he poured all his pent-up emotions from these months into you, shoving his tongue down your throat, taking what he deemed his. But you showed to be just if not more needy than him, using your now free hands, you grabbed on his dishevelled hair, tugging harshly on the soft strands like your life depended on it. Seonghwa’s lips found your jaw, then your collarbone, letting you draw in a shaky breath of fresh air. He sucked on your soft skin, knowing he was going to leave more marks.

You tangled your digits in his fluffy hair, tugging him closer to your trembling body. It was almost like you fear if you let him go, he would seemingly disappear.You needed more. You needed all of him, both of them. You needed him to empty his load deep inside you until he was leaking out all over the floor and then San to do the same. “H-hwa, please—please,” you begged in a worn whisper.

San turned your face towards him by your chin, growling at the fucked out expression you bared. Seonghwa continued his assault on your skin while San leaned forward to steal a fierce kiss from you. You broke one hand free from Hwa’s hair to dig into San’s fluff to hold him close, but he wrenched himself away before you could get a tight enough hold on him. His face held a cheeky grin as you watched him stand up.

He eyed the way your legs were wrapped around Seonghwa as the man knelt in front of you, still attacking you with love bites. You watched intensely with your mouth slightly agape as San reached down to his belt buckle, pulling the leather free with one swift motion making your cunt throb against Seonghwa's thigh. He then pulled his zipper down slowly, teasingly. You were practically vibrating in anticipation against the older male, one from his lips still dotting on your skin and two for the performance the younger was gifting you.

“Fuck.” You gasped at the sight of your friend pulling his cock out of his tight jeans. You had a feeling both boys were well off, but San was big. Your gasp made Seonghwa’s cock harden more against your core, twitching at the pretty sounds that left your lips. San’s cock was thick rather than long. His fingers barely met as he fisted it, stroking up the length in a slow motion. You could feel your soaked cunt clench tight as you stared at San’s thick cock, eyeing every detail from his wide tip to the girth and veins.

“Like what you see?” Seonghwa asked you, letting you pull away from him so his face could meet you once again. A big grin painted his features. It was dark and lustful with a hint of curiosity. You nodded to his words, making him let out a simple hum, “You want to see mine?”

“Yes please.” You said a little too quickly, but at this point, you no longer cared. Both men just chuckled at your eagerness as you pushed yourself back to give Seonghwa some room. San, in the meantime, walked back over to sit beside you, helping you undress completely, removing the awkward fabric that was pooled around your waist. Almost dazedly, you watched Seonghwa undress until his cock sprung free and unlike San, Seonghwa’s cock was long. You reached forward without a second thought, wanting, needed to have him in your grasp.

But Seonghwa gently batted your hand away, before stroking his own cock. “Not now, bunny.” He chuckled before grabbing your hips, tugging you back against him. He and San helped to lay you back down softly, letting the older male hover above you, pressing his tip against your aching hole. You then eyed San as he leaned over to his nice pile of clothing, grabbing the phone he had recorded you on prior. He gave it to Seonghwa this time so he could capture a delicious shot of his cock resting on your pussy.

“H-hwa please, please.” You begged, needing him to put it in already. But yet he didn’t, he just held his one hand against your wiggling hips while he slid his hard tip length against your wet folds. San held down your shoulders, making sure you wouldn’t move. Seonghwa bit his lip as he got his full length soaked in your arousal before settling back down on his heels. You watched in awe as his whole body shook while staring intensely into the phone, completely transfixed on the side of his dick twitching against your abused cunt. He stopped recording, placing the phone down before gripping your hips tightly.

”Do you have a condom bunny?” He choked out feeling a sense of restlessness, his eyes wide filled with desire. Your gaze never left him watching him looking at you like you were the one woman left in this world. You nod your head now staring at him with worry.

“I-I don’t have one,” You murmured, trying to look around the room in order to avoid his eye contact but ending up catching San’s instead. You hadn’t had anywhere to keep it in your dress, so you’d given your purse and phone to Mingi to hold onto. San’s eyes flicked to Seonghwa with a cheeky expression. You finally looked back at Hwa, noticing his gaze was flared with hunger but also with a hint of anger.

“What were you planning if you met someone tonight bunny?” he snarled, “Did you plan from random fuck you with no protection?” His brows crossed in frustration, inching closer to your face. “Would you have let Mingi fuck you raw? Risk getting knocked up?”

His voice was shaky, almost like he was afraid, but all your mind could think of was how incredibly handsome Seonghwa was with fury contorting his features. How could something feral look so elegant? It suddenly occurred to you that even though these two were, in fact, your friends, you should be scared, no? You should stop them and explain yourself about leaving your stuff with Mingi, right?

But it was apparent how overwhelmed you had suddenly gotten for both men at this moment. your pussy practically leaking all over the floor. your lust for him consumed you as if it was holding your tongue. So all you could do was stare with wide doe eyes, dazed and innocent. When you didn’t respond or defend yourself, both men took this as a defeat on your part. San lightly tsking behind you while Seonghwa shook his head. He was trying his best to hold his anger, keep it in check with some visible effort, raking his hand through his hair, making his already messy locks messier, "So fucking irresponsible, Bunny.”

"Well if our baby here was happy with the idea of getting fucked raw, you wouldn't mind if we do it, huh?" San smirked looking down at you with a slight head tilt.

It felt like a jolt of electricity just surged through your body straight to your core as you clenched around nothing. You whined loudly at San's words, showing just how much it affected you. You needed them both so badly that you finally found the courage to speak up, "Please, Seonghwa, please fuck me bare. I need it, I need you so badly." Your whimpers were music to their ears, tears trickling down your cheeks while your hips bucked up so your soaked cunt slid against his cock.

Seonghwa just stared at you in pure shock for a moment, his jaw slacked and his eyes dazed in fog. He was completely in awe of just how filthy you were truly deep down. You indeed are minx underneath an innocent exterior. Tilting his head back, he squeezed his eyes shut for a second as the grip on your thighs tightened, threatening to leave bruises. "Fuck, Bunny..."

It was San's turn to talk, grabbing your hand and giving it a little squeeze, "Such a filthy fucking whore ain’t ya baby? You, really begging to be knocked up. So cute." His voice was dripping in eagerness, making your heart beat wildly. Seonghwa jerked his cock tightly in one hand while he lined himself up with your hole before he pushed his tip against you.

“Is this what you want, baby? Do you want to be our little whore? our baby to care for and fill whenever we want?” His voice was laced with lust, a feral grin curling on his features. Still holding your gaze, he brought his cock down onto your clit, gifting you a hard smack. You jerked at the sting mixing with pleasure. San used this moment to tug your hand towards his cock, letting you wrap your hand around the thick appendage.

You squeezed, causing San to let out a stagnant hiccup. Seonghwa took this moment while your focus was on the other man to press his cock against you, pushing until the cock head slipped inside your dripping cunt. Your walls clenched around him quickly, drawing a ragged moan from both of you, “Fuck we are never gonna let you go after this Bunny,” he muttered pure filth as he inched deeper and deeper inside you.

"Fuck, you're so b-big Hwa." You babbled out staring up into Seonghwa’s dark eyes. His face scrunched with concentration as you cried louder when he sunk the rest of his thick cock into your cunt. He growled in your ear, sounding almost like an animal as he does not give you any time to adjust to the feeling of him but luckily from your previous high, you were wet enough that he slipped in and out with ease. San bit the other ear whining as he felt your hand move in time to Seonghwa's thrusts.

“We are gonna make you our pretty little cock sleeve.” San emphasised every word in his words as Seonghwa thrusted roughly into you making your tits bounce. You squirm, writhing but San just pinned your shoulders down while Seonghwa pinned your hips. Your thighs started to ache as they were spread wide, riding up the side of Seonghwa’s waist while you tried to cling to Sans's biceps. You felt so ruined, so used, and they’d barely even fucked up yet.

“Please, sir. Yes, please. Only for you two,” You cried out a little too easily, coming to terms no one would fuck you the way your friends could. “Do whatever you want with me. I’m yours, all of me. Have me as you please. Just please fuck me harder.” You became a blubbering mess, tears streaming down your face from frustration and desperation. A simple pleased grin painted Seonghwa’s angelic features, leaning down to steal a kiss from you. His tongue lathering your lips with such possessiveness it made you swoon. His lips trailed down until they landed on your jaw, it was then when you only realised you were smiling, brightly... Happily

Seonghwa sat up slightly again, looking over to San, who looked pleadingly as if he was being left out. The older male just smiled, pulling the younger by his thigh to bring him closer, letting Seonghwa wrap his hand around your smaller one that still slowly tugged on San’s cock. A moan left all of your lips as Seonghwa began to thrust against but in time with the pumps he gave San. “That’s it. Stroke him like this bunny. Be a good little slut and help our Sannie out.”

The nickname he gave his friend sent your body into a dizzy haze, simply nodding at his words in agreement. Seonghwa sat up, letting go of San so you could continue before he swiped the phone from the ground. He held the device above your bodies angling it to get all of the action in one shot. For a moment you wondered why the flash didn’t turn on but simply just clicked once, it was then you realised he took a photo. He threw his head back for a moment, basking in the way he could feel your body react to every thrust he gave you. “Here Sannie, wanna go?”

Your friend pulled out of your delicately, making sure you feel every inch slip out of your abused pussy. You shivered suddenly, one from the loss of body heat and two from being stuffed full. But before you could protest to anything, San gently tugged your hand off him before getting up, walking off towards the door. This gave you a perfect view of his plump ass. Without warning, Seonghwa thrusted back inside you, filling you up with a quick, brutal stroke, completely pulling your mind from the tall drink of water back to him. “Eyes on me bunny I’m still the one fucking you.”

The sharpness in Seonghwa’s voice got you spinning. So he was possessive even when he shared, noted. You thought, but before you could say anything to him, you noticed San had returned with some pillows. Fresh clean ones? He must have parked his trucks near and the fucker just walked outside butt naked to grab pillows. Seonghwa moved over, pulling out of you quicker than you could comprehend before San took his place between your shaky thighs... The younger male then lifted your hips with the strength you had no idea he possessed, placing a folded pillow under you. Seonghwa had taken San’s old spot but this time he was stroking his own cock, telling you to focus on the other man in the room.

You watched intensely as San brought his thick girthy cock to your wet hole. Once you were settled and San started to push his way into the point you felt nicely stuffed from his giant cock, you felt him place a hand on your stomach, feeling the bulge poking out. “Fuck sugar, If I knew you felt this good, I would have fucked you ages ago.” He moaned, shaking at the way your walls clenched around him. Your hazy gaze noticed a flash from a camera again, taking another photo of you, and another from another angle.

“See how petty you look all stretched out and stuffed full of San’s cock. Seonghwa growled, turning the phone so you could see the photo he had taken. Your eyes widened as you stared at yourself. Legs spread, forcibly open by San’s thick thighs while your cunt was snugly around his cock. Hwa had caught the perfect moment. Your pleasure in one single frame. From the way your breasts were on the perfect display and your face conveying pure bliss. It was single-handedly the filthy photo that you had ever seen of yourself. And you couldn’t help but admit it, but you loved it... Your eyes stared at the image feeling yourself tingle at the sight, tightening around San by the thought of your own pleasure.

You almost whine when Seonghwa turns the phone away from you. It was too soon, you hadn’t finished examining every detail yet. But your focus landed on San, seeing hunger dressed with dark eyes as he gazed at the photo Seonghwa was showing him.”You look so hot baby, like the perfect little cock warmer.”

San’s eyes suddenly snapped to Hwa’s taking out a short breath as he kept slowly fucking you with deep, sensual strokes of his hips. Hwa’s brows were raised in response to the other male, almost as if he was considering something. You squirmed, wanting to be in on the thought, but also wanting to be fucked harder. “Should I send this to Mingi?” Seonghwa chuckled watching intensely as your expression changed from blissed out to pure shock.

Out of all the fucking thing’s this wild card of a man could say, that wasn’t something you thought you’d ever leave his lips. Since practically being fucked beyond your freakiest dreams, you had completely forgotten about Mingi. You felt guilt riddled through your heightened body, feeling a little ashamed at how you whined as soon as he spoke. “He told us how needy you seemed when you saw him tonight. And let's be honest he has always liked you. We just happened to call dibs first.”

Seonghwa’s words were cruelly calm, like he was just having a simple conversation. For someone who had only shown possession even before this situation you thought he would be more angry, heck jealous even but he seemed more entertained. San snapped his hips, bringing your attention back to him. He must have sensed the confusion in your eyes because his grin explained everything, “We know how he looks at you, Sugar. They all do. They would all love to get inside your pretty cunt here...” San placed his hand over your pelvis, the gesture dominant, and asserting. “Even your best friend, Yunho...”

“But none of them will do it... Not until we say so...” You shivered at the certainty in San’s voice, goosebumps rising all over your skin at the sheer thought in his words. Not only had he and Seonghwa wanted to have you. But all of them had wanted you enough that San and Seonghwa had laid claim to you first before any of them so much as looked in your direction. It was at this moment you finally realised that this one-night stand was something more. Not just for you but for them also, which made you feel a sense of relief, like a weight was lighted off your shoulders. If they were telling your friends to back off, then they both definitely wanted more than a hookup, and that made your heart ach in pleasure.

Seonghwa smirked as he watched your face contort from confusion to understanding of what San had just said. “Mingi and the others were even nice enough to help us set all this up,” Seonghwa explained. “I think they deserve a little thank you for their hard work, no?” There was a teasing curve to Seonghwa’s lips as if he didn’t expect you to agree.

For how long you've been friends with all these men, they certainly did not know you as much as they thought. Seonghwa's suggestion... Not only did it make you burn with need but the sheer idea of him and San showing off to your friends with photos of you being fucked out on San's cock was even better, "Do it." you said with desperation, staring Seonghwa dead in the eyes. "My body is yours to do what you want. please, please share it if you want to."

Both men's faces went slack with surprise, making them both freeze and San slowing his thrusts. San's body was still except for his eyes, which raced around your expression that was still glued to Seonghwa.. You then sat slowly up on your elbows, tilting your head so it was inches from San before whispering with a smirk, “Please, send it...” Then slipping your lips on his. You felt him groan in your mouth, snaking his hand on the back of your neck. You felt Seonghwa shift before walking off somewhere else in the room, almost drawing your attention away.

San then pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes with nothing but devotion and lust. He had to take a moment, your words affecting him more than he realised.“I trust both of you, you know that right...” You sealed your lips against his again in a feverish kiss but he pulled away again with a smirk, making you whine before falling back onto the soft cushions. “Fuck, just send the photo to the others already...” you muttered dramatically. “I want them to see it.” Your confession went straight to his dick, your cunt clenching tightly around him at the thoughts looming open in the air.

San started to rut his hips into you without a second thought, living in the feeling of your warm cunt. But he shook the thought, gritting his teeth while forcing himself to stop his hips, and then he heard a whistle. “Hey, here.”

San gave Seonghwa a mouth pop, pulling out of you entirely, making you gasp at the sudden empty feeling. He chuckled before standing up, letting you see him in all his glory. “You’re not thinking properly...” He accused a little too harshly, watching you twist yourself until you sat on your knees in front of him, licking your lips. Before you could latch your grippers on his cock, he grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together, tugging your face up to look him in the eyes. “You’re thinking with your cunt, love.”

He helped you up, with Seonghwa suddenly standing behind you, sandwiching you between both men. You turned around to face Hwa this time, snaking your hands along his chest, kissing his neck. “How is this any different to you two wanting to fuck me raw hmm?” You whispered against Seonghwa’s soft skin, letting him grip your hips, and basked in the kisses you were littering on him. You were starting to get frustrated with every moment spent with neither of them fucking you. “Sending a pic to the boys seems less risky if you think about it now huh?”

San just rolled his eyes, walking over to where Seonghwa was before. Hwa, on the other hand, took this moment to capture your wandering lips while slowly walking you backwards towards the table, and Seonghwa had laid blankets over. Your knees hit the edge of the wood, making you break the kiss. Hwa helped you put onto the piece of furniture, laying you down gently. You looked up and saw Seonghwa between your legs and San with an irritated yet lustful expression, staring down at you dominantly. “You think, we’d actually risk knocking you up?”

He didn’t give you any time to reply before he continued, “I know you’re on birth control ‘cause I heard you complaining about it to Yunho.” He was now inches from your face, his breath tickling your cheeks as he also held your shoulders down. “You also slipped up and said that you would never fuck someone raw when we were all drunk the other night while playing truth or dare.” his dark eyes were wild with frustration, “We are your friends...We do listen.”

Tears swam in your eyes at the realisation that the two men you had been fearing didn’t like you back and not only were they in love with you also but had paid attention. You couldn’t help but smash your face to his in a fierce kiss. Your hands held his cheeks, trying to pull him as close to you as possible. He let you take the reins for the moment, slipping his tongue inside you while Seonghwa began to thrust inside your waiting cunt, snapping his hips against your bruised ones. Your moans fell into San’s mouth, panting and mixing your breath with his as you felt Seonghwa’s cock stretch you once again. “H-hwa!” You couldn’t help but cry his name out.

Seonghwa leaned down to kiss your chest, thrusting into you at a slow, steady pace. San pecked your cheek before grabbing the phone he had been using this whole night. He clicked his tongue before slyly holding it up to your face, whispering. “Look at the phone sugarcube.” You looked down with confusion seeing the phone unlocked with a face ID. Your eyes widened at the realisation that these two men had been using your phone this entire time, recording your body on your own camera. That meant that if these two wanted to send or see these videos and photos again, you would have to send it to them. You couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of heartfeltness as if these two men couldn’t get any better.

San didn’t seem to notice your reaction as he scrolled through your camera roll. Your hands gripped the sides of the table as you moaned Seonghwa’s name on repeat. Seonghwa latched his plump lips on your nipple, hiking your left leg over his shoulder to fuck you at a rougher angle. “I’m gonna send this photo to myself so I can make it my background.” He bit his lip checking out a photo of you with Seonghwa’s cock deep inside your throbbing pussy. He would never admit it but the sight of Seonghwa fucking you made him go wild.

“We’ll talk about the others later.” He huffed, throwing the phone gently onto the blanketed table next to you and tugging you upwards so your head dangled over the table slightly so he could mouth your cute mouth. You whined, parting your lips willingly so you could let him sink his cock into your mouth inch by inch. You hollowed your cheeks and took a deep breath while you clung to his thick thighs as he started moving.

His hips gave a short thrust as all three of you groaned. “Fuck, you feel so good on my cock, baby,” San muttered, his hands holding the side of your face while Seonghwa gripped your ass cheek with one hand and your breast in the other. “It’s like you were made for me.”

“You’re much to talk, this cunt is the best I’ve ever had. So fucking warm. I could sit in it forever.” Seonghwa kneaded your ass as his hips jackhammered into you. He grunted against your tits focusing on your pussy clenching around him. Then you suddenly felt his finger press against the tight hole of your ass, making you jerk a little, gagging on Sans's cock. “You gonna let us fuck this ass one day, Bunny? I bet Yunho would love the feeling of it. Mingi and him love to tag team you know.”

You moaned around San, bucking your hips in a silent plea at Seonghwa’s filth words. A dark chuckle is all the older male could rumble up mixing with the sounds of pure sin as he pulls his finger away from your ass to coat it in his own saliva before placing it right back where it was, slowly pushing on your tight hole. What was worse was that your senses have now become heightened over your vision being taken away from the angle you lay in. You feel him push again on your puckered hole before his tip breached it, making you swallow thickly. San shivered at the feeling, making him whine out, “And to think, you were scared we wouldn’t have been able to fuck you like the whore you so desperately want to be.”

“Hgnm?” you mumbled against his cock. You questioned if they had heard your thoughts or worse you had started accidentally speaking out loud at some point, but it turned out it was none of those things.

“We heard you, Bunny” Seonghwa bit out in a choked tone, frustration lacing his deep voice at himself as he felt himself nearing his climax... “We heard you talking to Yunho and Woo when you were at our place last week,” he explained. “You said ‘They are sweet guys. Gentlemen. They wouldn’t do such a thing’…Remember?” Each word he spoke he punctuated with a deep harsh trust making you jerk backwards against San. San held you still against him with a firm grip, driving himself so deep you could feel him go down your throat. You felt so ashamed... of course they overheard you, you hadn’t been as sneaky as you thought. But then again, deep down you had hoped they heard. With Seonghwa’s finger still in your ass, his cock driving harshly into your cunt and San deep down your throat, you were completely at their mercy, and it felt fucking heavenly. All you could do was lay there and take it while listening to their filth.

“We’ve been such good friends to you, bunny, I think we deserve a little thank you don’t you?” He snarled, thrusting his cock inside your abused cunt with a rough snap, making you whimper at the pain and pleasure. “Fuck, look at you, all spread out, taking our cocks. Our fingers, in all your holes like a good little slut.” He said, tugging his digits in and out at the same pace as his cock. Your eyes clouded and your jaw went slack as you struggled to scream. He repeated the movements driving you wild with the sensations. “our good little fucktoy.”

Both men were breathing heavily as their paces quickened. You didn’t know how much longer you could last, as they were pushing you closer and closer to the edge with every thrust of their hips. “Such a good girl.. fuck hngg..” San praises, throwing his head back at the feeling of you swallowing around his shaft. They both drilled their cocks into fast and rough while Seonghwa kept his finger lodged deep in your ass. “You’re ours and we can do whatever we want with your delicious holes okay Darling? Maybe even share you with the others... but not until we get our fill.”

The thought of all your friends fucking you at the same time almost pushed you completely over the edge, but you tried to hold out. Just last a bit longer. “Gonna let all eight of us fuck you at once bunny?” You cried out around San feeling tears pour out of your bloodshot eyes.

San suddenly barked. “fuck baby i need you to cum so Seonghwa can feel you clench around his cock like the filthy fucking slut you are and I can come down this fucking throat of yours..”

Immediately, you let go of the table, eagerly sliding it to your front. You quickly rubbed your clit making you push you right over the edge to your climax. But it wasn’t until Seonghwa growled out his next words that you truly let go and fell. “Come around me Bunny baby. Come for us.” His voice echoed with desperation almost like he was begging for you. A soothing whimper of need makes you let go.

Then, with a couple more driving snaps of both Seonghwa’s and San’s hips, they both tipped over the edge. You all came with a scream. For a brief moment, it felt like you were floating on a cloud.. a million miles away from your body. Weightless and surrounded by warmth and comfort.

Seonghwa let out a loud high pitched sound that sounded so angelic, you didn’t even know if you could call it a moan. But it was so beautiful and filthy it made your cunt clamp down on his cock. You could feel him twitch inside you, as his load spills out more, filling you with his warm cream. San came quickly after, emptying himself down your throat, letting you slowly swallow every drop he gave you. For a moment, you and the two men just basked in the pure blissfulness of pleasure. Seonghwa slowly slipped out, watching his cum leak from your pussy and drip down to the blankets beneath you.

Gently, Seonghwa detangled himself from you, guiding your leg slowly off his shoulder and onto the blanketed table while San pulled out of you and helped you lay your head on the oak furniture, giving you space to breathe. With the same tender care, Seonghwa eased his finger from your tight ass and pulled his cock out of your still-fluttering pussy. Seonghwa then slowly pulled up to sit up so he could wrap his arms around you, gathering you against his chest.You felt San’s hand firmly on your back as he leaned down to kiss your shoulder.

And with your face tucked in the crook of Seonghwa’s neck, you couldn’t see either of their faces, so you didn’t know exactly what their expressions were but a simple ‘hmm’ got you began to speak, “We’re not just friends anymore are we?”

San just chuckled, patting your head, taking you and Seonghwa in his arms... “Fuck, Darling,” he mumbled on a deep exhale, “of course not. You're our girl now. If that's okay with you?”

You felt your heart swell over with happiness as you chuckled in delight. Your fingers dug into Hwa’s arm and reached to find Sans too. Neither of them tried to pull away, both only pressed close, groaning loudly like you were killing them. You pulled away, letting both men stand up properly to gaze at you. You kissed both of them. San first and Seonghwa. It was slow and sweet. But when you went back for another one with San you could feel it slowly turn as he licked your lips so his tongue slipped into your mouth. He kissed you possessively as Seonghwa bit softly on your collarbone. It left you gasping for air as you whispered against your friend’s lips. “belong to both of you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

627 notes · View notes

shadowdaddies · 2 months ago

Text

A Better Tomorrow

Best Friend Cassian x Reader / mated Azriel x Reader Hurt/Comfort

A/N: This is for anyone who is tired. Life is hard, but the world is better with you in it.

The loud echo of your boots against the hardwood echoed through the hallway, steps fast and harsh against the floors as though you could take your anger out against it. Face hot with waves of anger and shame, you heaved out a sigh, flexing and clenching your hands while you paced the room, seeking an outlet to calm the rage contained beneath your skin.

As if they could sense you were about to break, a cool wisp of darkness brushed your hand, effectively extinguishing the wildfire burning within you. Feet stopped on instinct, your watery eyes falling closed as tension immediately left your body, the anger making way for a brief peace that quickly soured to melancholy.

“Love?” Azriel called out from the kitchen, your mate’s warm voice healing the hole in your chest as you padded towards his call.

“Hey, Az,” you murmured, smiling in spite of yourself at the sight of bright hazel eyes. The scent of chilled mist and cedar permeated the air, a balm to your blazing emotions. A calloused hand brushed down your arm, just as softly and soothing as his shadows when Azriel pulled you to his side.

Movement from the corner of your eye turned your head, Cassian’s hulking frame leaning casually over the counter as he cleaned the final scraps of food from his plate. “Hey sunshine,” he winked, pausing to take a long swig of his drink. “How’s Windhaven? Keeping those Illyrian louts in check for me?”

By the way Azriel’s shadows began to oscillate erratically, his grip on your waist tensing ever so slightly, you knew that you hadn’t hidden your reaction to Cassian’s question.

“What happened?” Azriel asked in a lethal calm. The shame and anger from earlier rushed back to you, eddying in your mind like a whirlpool that threatened to pull you under. A cool shadow stroking your cheek pulled your attention back to your mate. Safety, love, protectiveness seemed to roll off of him, and you spared a glance to Cassian to find the same.

Allowing yourself to lean your weight on Azriel, you found the comfort and clarity you needed from his presence - and with that clarity, the awareness of Azriel’s own simmering anger just below his composed facade.

“Azriel,” you whispered, hand reaching up to brush a lock of onyx hair behind his curved ear. “I think I need to talk to Cassian about this alone, if that is alright.”

Warring emotions seemed to play out in Azriel’s eyes, the irises reflecting golden light as his gaze flicked between his mate and brother. “I will talk to you about it, but I need to speak with my General right now,” you promised, offering a small smile of encouragement.

The shadowsinger’s sharp stare softened at that, understanding falling like a blanket of comfort over the two of you. Azriel recognized your need to separate your work from home life - it was a value which you both shared, and worked on balancing together. Pressing a kiss to your hair - and flashing a warning glare at Cassian that sent a shiver down your spine - Azriel went outside, leaving you alone with Cass.

Without Azriel’s presence by your side, the weight of the day seemed to fall all at once, Cassian’s expression turning from that of a concerned General to a worried friend instantly. His eyes tracked how your weight shifted awkwardly, hands twisting with each other.

“C’mere sunshine,” he murmured, pulling out the chair next to where he sat. You took the chair, elbows instantly landing on the table and hands tangling in your hair.

“I don’t think I can do this, Cass,” you admitted, hiding your watery eyes by studying the woodgrain of the table. “Windhaven. As a female. I’m just not strong enough.” You could feel Cassian’s intake of air, so you spoke before he could interject his platitudes and hollow encouragements.

“It’s so hard - and I knew it would be - but day after day, nothing changes. Some of these males get worse with how they treat me, how they even treat each other. And I know I should ‘not let it bother me.’ I know that ‘it’s a reflection of their character and not mine.’ I know that ‘I am the bigger person.’ But gods dammit, I am so tired.”

You dared a peek at Cassian, expecting something of pity or even judgment, but he sat back in his chair with eyes that matched your own, sparkling with the same barely-held tears which held memories, understanding. He nodded silently, both an encouragement and an affirmation.

Loosing another sigh, you ran one hand through your hair as the other picked nervously at the textured table. “I tried to fight back today. To take a stand.” Palms smacked the table, the sting left on your hands nothing compared to the sting of today’s memory.

“Fucking Devlon,” you continued. “He brought a group of male soldiers to where we were training the new Valkyries. The way they taunted those young girls, the disgusting comments... And one of them-” Your eyes shuttered at the sound of his voice replaying in your mind. “I won’t repeat what he said to Gwyn, but it sent me over the edge, Cassian. I couldn’t let those females be treated like that.

“So I challenged the asshole to a fight, with a ‘cycle-tainted sword,’” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the words.

“And he accepted,” Cassian added, not a question, but a reminder.

With a stiff nod, you watched his reaction carefully as you continued the story. “I pinned him, easily-“ You felt relief as Cassian sipped his drink, shrugging in a silent of course. “But I didn’t stop there. He continued to spew his shit even from the ground, and I saw the faces of those other males. They hadn’t changed. I hadn’t proved anything to them.

“So I took my blade, and I cut his wing.” You couldn’t help the tear that spilled down your cheek then, the salty droplet cool against your reddened cheek. “Not enough to hurt him, but enough to leave a scar. To leave a reminder of what we could do.”

Cassian’s lips spread into a smirk, eyes twinkling with the feral delight of a true warrior, but he remained silent.

“It feels wrong, Cassian. I don’t know what to do - how to stand up for myself, for others. Those males will never change, and I fear I’m only becoming as terrible as them. But I can’t bear to see that evil. I just can’t do it anymore... I am not strong enough for Illyria.”

Your bottom lip quivered, the heartbreak of the situation weighing you down, curving your shoulders in as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

Cassian watched you for a long moment, pushing his plate to the side before leaning closer, ruby red siphons pulsing light against the table where he now rested them.

“I don’t know whether your actions against that male were the right thing to do. I do know that he deserved it - and much more - but if it weighs on your conscience, it may not be what is best for you. And that is what I care about. I don’t give a fuck about what happens to some Illyrian prick who went out of his way to hurt you all. He incited a reaction, and reaped the consequences.

“You are right,” Cassian continued, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze. “It is so hard, to see the hatred and evil day after day - not only from our enemies, but those within our own community. And those males will probably never change. But so much has changed, and will. The Valkyries are already bringing change in more ways than I think you realize.”

Cassian swallowed thickly, his eyes shining with a brighter kind of emotion. “Remember when I met you and Nesta in town after training at Windhaven last week?” You nodded, curious as to where he was going with this.

“I saw the two of you walking towards me, armed in your uniforms with heads held high. These little girls,” he breathed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “They were watching you from the window. Two little Illyrian girls with a look that I had never seen them have in that town. It was more than admiration, it was hope.”

Hazel eyes bore into you with a captivating earnestness. “You give them hope. Something I am ashamed to say I hadn’t noticed was missing until The Valkyries brought it to them. Those males may not change, but you are helping to build a world for those little girls to be the change.

We can’t change Illyria overnight. But it needs you, because you are making the world a better place for those children - a world with hope, where they can be themselves without fear, because they look at you and know it is possible.”

A sob broke from your lips, relief washing over you like a cool wave at the realization. You would make mistakes, consequences would have actions, people would do wrong by you and others. But as small as your work may feel, you are building a better world for tomorrow.

A shadow wound through your tousled hair, wiping at the salty tears that streaked down your cheeks. Cassian chuckled at the motion, standing from his seat with a grunt. “I think Azriel might be getting impatient out there,” he nodded towards the door. “Go have a good night with your mate.”

You stood, nodding with a sniffle as you wrapped your arms around your friend, his own returning the action with his usual tight squeeze. “Thank you, Cassian. You are a very good friend, and General.”

“I know,” he smirked when you pulled away, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “I’m feeling inspired to go find my Nesta, and remind her just how much better the world is with her.” With a suggestive smirk, he winked and set off towards the library, leaving you laughing softly at his shameless behavior.

You opened the door to the outside where Azriel stood looking out at the sunset, his stillness making him look like a statue until he turned to face you, and you inhaled sharply at the beauty of your mate, a living work of art.

“Are you alright?” he questioned, failing to hide his concern at the still-drying tears on your face. Pushing up on your toes, you pulled him in for a kiss.

“Better than ever,” you murmured against his lips, tugging his soft lower lip between your teeth before pulling away to take his hands in yours. “I’ll tell you everything over dinner. I’m ready to enjoy my night with the one I love.”

That earned a cheeky grin from Azriel, the male effortlessly sweeping you into his arms before setting off to fly across the multi-colored hues of the evening sky, where you clung to the comfort of him.

634 notes · View notes

acupoftaewithsomesuga · 3 months ago

Text

"𝑩𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏" • 𝑾𝒐𝒐𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈

summary• wooyoung and you have been in arranged marriage for almost 3 years. You are tired of the constant lack of physical affection and you start to slowly lose yourself. Who knew that this one misunderstanding would shift your relationship with Wooyoung.

warnings• ANGST, enemies to lovers, alluding to suicide, signs of depression, arguing, mentioning of harming others, mention of mental disorders, manipulation, mental breakdowns, SMUT, pet names (baby, dear, love, sweetheart, husband, wife), teasing, penetration, unprotected sex, clit play, squirting, rough sex, passionate sex, aftercare.

videos/audios to view before reading

w/c• 13.2k

a/n• this one took me forever to do but it is finally here! I want to thank @itsnotmydejavu and @rems-writing for giving me the strength to continue writing this one. I was genuinely going to scrap the whole thing but here it is to share with everyone! Next up Seonghwa to finish the OT8 saga!

taglist• @rems-writing @st4rhwa @sugarnspice630 @joongiesmoon @no1likevie @woohwababes @hongjoongswife1 @blackb3ll @staytiny23 @ccalyse

network• @othersideoutlawsnetwork

•masterlist•

After working on some paperwork for the business you decided to go see Wooyoung in his office. Wooyoung was a very established businessman known for working mainly in stocks. But what people didn’t know was that he was also smuggling drugs into the country. You were a businesswoman who worked with your father's established wood company. You have known Wooyoung from a young age but he was always standoffish. You were closer to his brother Hongjoong and connected more with him growing up. So you were really surprised when your parents and their parents decided that Wooyoung and you would be getting married. He didn’t have much of a reaction, he just nodded and bowed. You objected with no hesitation and got into a heated argument with your parents. But they weren’t letting up on their decision and neither were Wooyoung’s parents.

Wooyoung didn’t react to anything that was happening on the day of the wedding. He had a straight face throughout the whole thing and didn’t say a word to you except “I do.” On your honeymoon, you cried yourself to sleep because he didn’t touch you or even try to talk to you about anything meaningful. You felt so helpless at this point. That was 2 years ago and now you and Wooyoung are coming up to your third year of being married. Your relationship has grown but not as much as you would like. You both talk but it’s never how you want it to be. He talks about business and asks you how you are doing but that is about it. Conversations are kept to a minimum and you were at your limit with this. You figured you would try to win him over just so you weren’t losing your mind.

You knock on Wooyoung’s door and you can just hear the annoyance in his voice. “What is it?” He said irritated. You opened the door and saw him at his desk looking at the stack of paperwork on his table. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything,” you smiled but his expression didn’t waver one bit. “I don’t need anything from you. I need to focus on this deal. Don’t you have something to do? Like manage your father's business?” he said in a flat tone, still looking at the papers. “I have finished everything I needed to do. I just wanted to see how my husband is doing,” you say causing him to raise an eyebrow, his expression unyielding. “You're my wife, not my assistant. I don't require checking in on. I'm fine.” There is silence in the room before he speaks again. “Don't you have a hobby or something to occupy your time?” You stare at him, your smile fading at his words. “Yes, but as your wife I should make sure you are doing fine. And I do have a hobby, it's currently drying at the moment,” You explained referring to your painting.

Silence fills the room again before he speaks. “Painting, huh? I didn't know you were interested in that. It's a hobby, not a career. You don't need to waste your time on it.” You could feel the blood rushing through your veins as he belittles your passion. “You asked if I had a hobby and I told you my hobby. You want me to leave you alone and waste time on my hobby. But when I tell you my hobby you tell me it’s a waste of time and I should stop doing it. You don’t make sense at all sometimes. If you hate me then just say that.” Your voice echoed through the room causing Wooyoung to look up from his paper, his eyes flashing with annoyance. “Oh, spare me the drama. I don't hate you, I'm just trying to focus on my work. And I didn't say your hobby was a waste of time, I said it's not a career. There's a difference.” You could feel yourself boiling at his response. “Whatever Wooyoung. I’ll just go back to being your uncaring wife since that is what you want me to be. Ever since our parents arranged this marriage you haven’t even looked at me with loving eyes.”

His expression darkens, his voice cold “That's enough. You know as well as I do that our marriage was a business arrangement, not a love match. Don't pretend to be hurt or offended. You're getting everything you wanted out of this deal, just like I am.” You roll your eyes and close the door to his office. He returns to his work, but his focus is now scattered. He can't shake off the feeling that he's lost control of the situation and that nagging sense of guilt is starting to creep up on him.

You place your hands over your eyes, trying not to cry as you walk back to the painting studio. “I just want to be touched lovingly. I don’t care about the money. I fucking hate my parents,” you say to yourself as you enter the studio and close the door behind you. You sit in the studio and cry for up to an hour. Your heart was shattered and you felt like no one cared about my feelings. The idea of not having a husband who loves you made you hold yourself tight and sob. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to love you fully along with your future children.

He enters the painting studio, his footsteps quiet on the floor. He sees you sitting there, tears streaming down your face, and for a moment, his mask falters. He looks almost human. He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure, and approaches you slowly. Wooyoung stands before you, his gaze fixed on your tear-stained face. He tries to reach out to you, his hand hovering above her shoulder, but hesitates.“You're…” For a moment, he looks like he's about to say something, but the words die on his lips. You just sat there folding your face, not wanting to hear anything he had to say. “Just leave me alone,” you cry out crunching your body closer to yourself. His eyes narrow, a flash of annoyance crossing his face, but he checks himself. He takes a deep breath, his expression smoothing out into its usual mask of calm control. He turns to leave but pauses at the door, his voice low and detached. “We have a meeting with the investors tomorrow.”

You whence at his words, holding yourself close. His gaze lingers on her for a moment, his eyes flicking over your soaked shirt before he turns away, his strides long and purposeful as he exits the room, leaving you alone with your tears. You get up, close the door to the studio, and take out your paint brushing. You start to paint on a new canvas with your emotions, painting a story of your heartbreak. He stands outside the studio door, his ear pressed against the wood, listening to the sounds of brushstrokes and muffled sobs. His eyes close, his jaw tightening as he absorbs the emotions that seep through the door. For a moment, he remains still, the only sound of his quiet breathing.

You continue covering your canvas with red and black. Painting your emotions onto this canvas. Red with black smudges representing your heart turning cold and helpless. He opens the door, his eyes scanning the room, taking in the canvas and the turmoil that surrounds him. His gaze fixes on the vibrant red and black hues, his expression unreadable, yet his eyes seem to hold a quiet intensity as if he's trying to decipher the code of her emotions.

You painted a base for a heart being held by a hand, crushing it with force causing it to bleed black. The black paint dripped off of the canvas and onto the wooden easel. Your hands were messy from the aggressive painting, your hands shaking. You take a deep breath and try to calm myself down, letting your remaining tears drip off your face.

For a moment, he's frozen, his chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths. He takes a step closer, his shoes silent on the floor, his eyes never leaving the canvas. His voice is low and even, yet laced with an undercurrent of intensity, "Tell me, what is this?" He gestures to the painting, his hand hovering above the crushed heart.

“It’s art you’re supposed to interpret it yourself,” you say in a flat tone, your tears stilling. You start to grip your paintbrush forcefully, your body filled with rage. His eyes flicker to the side of your face, "Ah, but that's where you're wrong. Art is not just about interpretation, it's about understanding the soul of the creator. And I want to understand yours." His words were supposed to be endearing but in the moment it just pissed you off. “My heart is extremely fragile. Love represents red and hopelessness represents black,” you expressed weakening your grasp on your paintbrush to calm yourself down. His gaze lingers on the black paint. He takes another step closer, his proximity making the air feel thick and heavy, "And what do you hope for, when love is crushed and hopelessness reigns?" He asks causing your eyes to swell up again. “I hope to die, that’s what I hope. I’d rather not be here anymore than my heart be crushed by hopelessness,” you utter, the grasp on your paintbrush tightening again.

His expression remains unreadable, but his voice takes on a hint of softness, a gentle probing, "And what is it about this world that makes you want to escape it so desperately?" He pauses, looking at you with an emotionless gaze. “My lack of love and touch. The lack of loving conversations. Not having someone hold me and adore me. That’s why I want to escape.” He pauses before speaking, "You crave human connection, but are surrounded by emptiness. It's a feeling I'm familiar with," he says, his voice low and filled with regret. “Then why do you force me to go through it alone?” you snap turning around and looking up at him. Your eyes were red and puffy from all the crying. Red and black paint was smugged on your cheek from you wiping away your tears. His eyes widen fractionally at the accusation, but he doesn't back down, "I'm not forcing you to go through anything alone, you're choosing to be here, to surround yourself with the very things that hurt you," he argues back, his stance dominating the space between you.

“You don’t understand. No matter how much I surround myself with people I still lack physical touch and love.” He looks down at you, his presence looming over you. You see his jaw clench before he speaks, "Perhaps that's because you're looking for the wrong kind of touch, the wrong kind of love. You're so focused on what you're missing, you've forgotten how to appreciate what's right in front of you,” he says his expression getting more irritated.

“Again you don’t understand and you don’t listen. The point is I need you to love me. I am losing my mind. I sleep in bed with you every night with our backs turned to eachother. When I wake up you are gone. I don’t get morning hugs or even night kisses. It would be one thing if you didn’t want to be affectionate with me but I’d at least want you to talk to me like I’m your wife.” More tears escape your eyes, the paint making visible streams down your face. His expression remains unreadable, but his voice takes on a slightly softer tone, though it's still laced with a hint of detachment, "I do talk to you, y/n. I provide for you, protect you, and give you everything you need. What more do you want from me?" You look at him for a second and try to search for the words to say. “I just told you what I wanted Wooyoung. For you to hold me and be intimate with me.”

He takes another step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he speaks in a low, measured tone, "Intimacy is a weakness, y/n. It's a vulnerability that can be exploited. I've worked too hard to build my empire to let emotions get in the way.” Your face drops and you look at the ground. You sigh to yourself in defeat. He tilts his head slightly, studying you for a moment before continuing, his voice softer, "Why are you so hung up on this, y/n? I've given you everything you could ever need. Why does it matter if we-,” You instantly cut him off with your words and express your feelings. “I want a traditional husband. I want to be loved by my husband. Don’t you want the same from your wife?” Your eyes swelled with tears again as you looked up at him. You looked so hopeless as you looked at him, your eyes emanating a mixture of fear.

His expression falters for a brief moment, a flash of something deeper beneath the surface, before he masks it with his usual arrogance, "Love is a fleeting thing, y/n. It's a myth perpetuated by the weak-minded. I don't want love from you.” Your heart drops and his words stab into you like a knife. Your rage gets the best of you and you start to talk out of hatred. “And see that’s your problem now. You are going to die alone and miserable. But me I won’t dragged into your coldness. I will find someone that truly loves me.” You get up from your stool, the scrap running across the ground and echoing through the room. You glare at him before walking out of the studio.

He watches you go, a flicker of something like regret crossing his face before he shakes his head and turns to the window, his expression once again cold and unreadable. He mutters to himself, "Love is a fool's game." Your emotions were on a high and you felt like you weren't being heard properly. How could someone like Wooyoung be so cold and reserved for you but when he is around other people he smiles? What about you did he resent you so much?

You get to the room and get clothes out for bed. You walk into the bathroom and turn on the bathtub. You light some candles and turn off the lights, letting all the candles engulf the room.

He enters the bedroom and hears the sound of the running water coming from the bathroom. The soft glow of the candles drew him in. For a moment, he stands in the doorway, his gaze fixed on the peaceful scene before him.

Without knowing he was standing in the doorway you undo your robe and let it drop to the ground, your naked body being exposed to the air. You climb into the tub letting the hot water radiate against your skin. You breathe out as you feel your body being covered with hot water. For a moment, he's frozen, his usual composure slipping. His chest rises and falls with a slow, deliberate breath, and his fingers tighten into fists at his sides. You start to wash your body gently, humming to yourself. You throw your leg in the air and wash it thoroughly.

His eyes follow the movement of your leg, his gaze lingering on the curve of your thigh and the gentle motion of your hands as you wash. His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he struggles to maintain his stoic demeanor.

After you clean yourself you decide to destress even more. You move your hand down to your core, rubbing your fingers against your folds. His eyes widen slightly as he watches you, his gaze riveted on the intimate act. His breath hitches, a low, almost imperceptible sound escaping his lips. He takes a step forward, his body seemingly drawn to the scene unfolding before him despite his better judgment.

You rub your fingers against your clit and start to moan softly, the waters around your arm splashing. He can't tear his eyes away, transfixed by the sight of your fingers dancing over your most sensitive flesh. The soft moans that spill from your lips send a jolt of something primal through him, his body responding with a surge of heat that he can't suppress.

“Hmm please, I’ve been a good girl,” you moan, continuing to rub circles against your clit. His control snaps as he hears your talk. With a few quick steps, he's at the edge of the bathtub, his icy façade shattering as he takes in the sight of you pleasuring yourself. His hand shoots out, gripping your wrist and gently guiding your hand away from your core.

Your eyes widen as you see Wooyoung looking at you his hand tight around your wrist. You were in complete shock as you made eye contact with him. His gaze holds yours, the intensity of his stare rendering you breathless. For a moment, the only sound is the soft lapping of the water against the tub. His voice was low as he spoke. "You shouldn't be doing that."

You scoff, “I can’t please myself in peace now? You won’t do it so I have to force myself to.” His eyes narrow, a hint of anger flashing beneath the surface. His grip on your wrist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer. "You think I won't do it?" His voice is low and menacing. “Not in the way that I’d want you to, no.” You express holding the same intensity that he was towards you. He takes a deep breath as his grip on your wrist tightens further. His other hand reaches up, cupping your chin and tilting your head back. "What way is that?"

“With love and passion. You only see me now for lust.” You hiss before pushing his hand away forcefully. His eyes flash with anger, his jaw clenched in a tight line. For a moment, it seems like he's about to lash out, but then his expression smooths, his mask of control slipping back into place. "Love and passion are weaknesses, sweetheart. I prefer to keep things transactional."

You roll your eyes at his childish response. “And I’d like to keep things traditional,” you scoff trying to pull your hand away from his grasp. His grip on your wrist doesn't relinquish, his fingers digging deeper into your skin as he pulls you back to him. "You want traditional?" He sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. "You want romance and fairy tales? I'm a businessman, not a prince charming.” Seeing him like this broke your heart. “You made that one obvious,” you said looking into his eyes in pain. For a fleeting moment, something in his eyes flickers, a glimmer of uncertainty or perhaps even empathy, but it's quickly snuffed out by his usual cold calculation. "You're not hurt, you're just disappointed,” he said in reaction to your hurt comment. “Just leave so I can fuck myself in peace.” His grip on your wrist tightens for a moment before he releases you with a dismissive shrug. "I'll leave you to your devices." He says, his voice clipped and cold, before turning on his heel and striding away, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room.

The sound of the door opening and closing breaks the silence, signaling Wooyoungs's departure. The room feels empty and still, the only sound being your ragged breathing. As the minutes tick by, the tension and anger seem to seep out of your body, leaving behind a hollow, exhausted feeling. You breathe and exhale, trying to calm yourself down. You sit in silence for a minute to try to keep yourself together. You lay back in the tub and try to forget everything that just happened between you and Wooyoung. You felt like your life was coming apart and you didn’t know how to cope with it. You sat into the stillness of the room remembering that this will soon pass and you will find someone to love you since Wooyoung made it apparent that he wanted to keep your relationship transactional.

You start to hum to yourself as a distraction. The humming is a weak attempt to drown out the thoughts swirling in your mind, but it's a start. As you lay back in the bathtub, the warm water envelops you, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. “I should get out in a minute.” you sigh to yourself. The water continues to swirl around you as you lay motionless, the remnants of anger and hurt slowly fading. The exhaustion, however, stays, weighing heavy on your limbs. The minutes tick by, each one bringing you closer to the decision of getting out of the tub.

You get out of the tub and start to dry your body off. As you dry off, the cool air of the bathroom hits your skin. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and for a moment, you're taken aback by the reflection staring back. Your eyes look tired, your skin paler than usual, and your expression drawn. “I need to get it together. I have to find someone to love me. I can’t dwindle away like this.” you said before pulling the robe over your body and walking to the bedroom to change into your night clothes.

You slip into a comfortable pair of pajamas, the soft fabric a gentle solace against your fragile emotions. As you make your way to the bed, your gaze falls upon the scattering of papers and notes on your side table, reminders of the meeting with the investors, and the looming deadline for the investment deal.

“Why was I forced to live like this.” you sigh spreading your body on top of the bed, letting the sheets press against your warm skin. Your phone, abandoned on the bedside table, suddenly buzzes with an incoming message. The screen illuminates, casting an eerie glow on your face. The words "Ever, we need to talk. -H" flash before your eyes, piercing through the haze of your despair. You hesitantly reach for the phone, your fingers hovering over the screen as if unsure of what secrets it might hold. The message from Hongjoong seems to weigh heavier with each passing moment, his words echoing in your mind like an unspoken challenge. The phone rings twice before Hongjoong's resonant voice answers, his tone is husky from what sounds like a late night or lingering exhaustion. "y/n, I've been trying to reach you all day. We need to discuss the Kang account. There are complications."

“What happened,” you ask bluntly, your voice uninterested in the situation. Hongjoong's pause is palpable, the silence between you a heavy, unspoken understanding. "The Kangs are getting cold feet. They're threatening to pull out of the deal if we don't meet their revised demands. I need you to charm them, y/n.” You exhale and roll your eyes, irritation lingering in your voice, “How would I do that?” Hongjoong's voice drops lower, the weight of his words seemingly pulling at your very consciousness. "You've always had a way with people, y/n. You know what they want before they even realize it themselves. Use that to your advantage. And mine." You could hear the desperation in his voice and you started to feel empathetic towards your brother-in-law.

“Okay, I will see what I can do,” you said in a flat tone, your finger hovering over the end call button. Hongjoong's tone lightens imperceptibly, a low, smooth chuckle rumbling through the phone. "I knew I could count on you, y/n. You always were the one with the silver tongue. Just remember, I'm counting on you to get this deal back on track.” “Yup I got it,” you said before hanging up and squeezing the phone out of irritation. The line goes dead, and for a moment, you're left lying there, the phone still clutched in your hand, the weight of Hongjoong's expectations settling in like a shroud. You can almost feel his eyes on you, even from afar, watching, waiting.

You place your phone back down on the nightstand and engulf yourself in the sheets. As you lay there, trying to escape the suffocating feeling of Hongjoong's demands, your mind begins to wander back to the conversation, replaying his words like a mantra. "Use that to your advantage. And mine."

“What a fucking pig, why doesn't he get his brother to do it. Why am I always trying to please others? Leave it to me to take care of two men who don't even provide for me emotionally. What a fucking joke.” you scoff to yourself before exhaling deeply. “Everything is going to be fine. All I have to do is get this deal done and we can relax for a moment. Tomorrow is another day, meaning another day to start over again.” You reassure yourself about this whole situation and sit for a minute to calm your lingering frustrations from the day. You let your eyes fall shut, drifting off to bed.

Your dreams that night are plagued with images of Hongjoong, his piercing gaze and unyielding presence haunting your sleep. You see Wooyoung in your dreams repeating everything he said to you during your arguments. You toss in bed all night your head riddled with the two brothers.

You wake up the next morning with a renewed sense of purpose, if not a slightly bitter taste in your mouth. You'll do what he asks, but not out of loyalty, only for yourself and your cut of the deal. You get up and look at the way you look in the vanity. You force a smile on your face just to make sure you remember how to. “He doesn't love you y/n. Just keep being you. Don’t change for him and don't shed any more tears.” You make this promise to yourself realizing that Wooyoung will never break his habits and he will forever be distant with you.

You get dressed and put on your designer black dress. You do your makeup and put on jewelry. You put on your heels and walk to the living room. At this time you assert yourself with confidence. This was an important deal and you had to make sure that you were on top of performing today. As you stride into the living room, you're met with the sight of Wooyoung, already seated on the couch, sipping on a cup of black coffee. He's dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit, his eyes fixed on you as you enter.

You invert your gaze from Wooyoung to the teapot lying on the coffee table. You grab a glass and pour yourself some tea. You put a cube of sugar in it and started to drink. Wooyoung's eyes narrow slightly as you avoid direct eye contact, his gaze lingering on the delicate curve of your neck. His lips compress into a thin line, his expression unreadable. "So, are you prepared to discuss the terms of our agreement with the Kangs?" You put the cup down and cross your legs before speaking, “I’m always ready.” Your voice is disinterested in having a conversation with him. Wooyoung's gaze flicks to your crossed legs, a fleeting interest sparking in his eyes before he returns to a neutral expression. He sets his cup down, his movements deliberate and controlled. "Very well. I've reviewed the proposal, and I'm willing to make some concessions.” You take another sip of your tea before making a dry response. “Hmm, that’s good. Mr. Kang would like that.”

Wooyoung's eyes flash with a hint of annoyance, but he quickly masks it with a calculating calmness. "Yes, I'm sure he would. However, I think we can both agree that Mr. Kang's interests are not the primary concern here." “Very true but he is the one taking the deal at the end of the day,” you snap back wanting him to simply shut up. Wooyoung's lips curl into a subtle, condescending smile. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong. Mr. Kang may think he's calling the shots, but I'm the one holding the reins. And I always get what I want, one way or another." I look at Wooyoung in response to his childish comments.

“Do you think Hongjoong would be pleased with how you’re talking? You know the deal Wooyoung. We sell this deal to Mr. Kang and we get our cut,” you say to get Wooyoung to know his place and to remind him that his older brother is the one calling the shots. Wooyoung's smile widens, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. "Hongjoong? Ha! He's too busy playing nice with the investors to care about the details. And as for the deal, I'm not worried about getting our cut.” You exhale softly before drinking my tea. You didn’t want to argue with Wooyoung anymore because you knew if he was doing this on his own he would find a way to fuck up the whole deal.

“When they get here remember that we are a loving married couple. We don’t want the Kangs suspecting us,” you say causing Wooyoung's gaze to drift to you, his expression softening ever so slightly as he raises an eyebrow. "Oh, don't worry, darling," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll make sure to put on a show for the Kangs.”

You roll your eyes and pour yourself some more tea. Wooyoung chuckles, a low, throaty sound, as he watches you roll your eyes. He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers together in a gesture of mock seriousness. "After all, we're a loving married couple, living a life of perfect domestic bliss.” “So that means don’t be a dickhead.” you say sarcastically before getting up and looking out of the window. Wooyoung laughs, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, I'll try to contain myself, sweetheart," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I wouldn't want to spoil the illusion of our perfect marriage." You look out the window for a while just thinking about the act that you have to put up before you decide to respond to him. You move from the window and walk behind Wooyoung, hovering over him as you speak. “Well, we should get into character.” Wooyoung was more into the contract than he was into you, a typical sight you were used to.

You changed your personality from Wooyoungs arranged wife to his loving and caring soulmate. “Good morning darling,” you cooed before rubbing your hands against his chest. You could feel his body tense up from the sudden feeling of you caressing his chest softly. You slowly pull away from his and walk in front of him. “So nice to see you awake.” you express before grabbing his chin with my fingers and pulling him closer to your lips. You press a passionate kiss on his lips before pulling away and looking down at him. Wooyoung's eyes flicker with surprise at the sudden change in your demeanor, but he quickly recovers, a charming smile spreading across his face. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a deeper kiss, his lips expertly mimicking passion and affection.

“That’s good enough,” you say the smile on your face fading into a neutral expression. You pull back and move back to your spot on the couch, taking a sip of your tea to get the taste of him out of your mouth. Wooyoung's arms fall from your waist, his expression carefully neutral as you return to your seat. He watches you for a moment longer before turning his attention back to the paper in his hand, adjusting his tie with an air of cool indifference. "Took you long enough," he snickered. “We are just pretending.” you expressed reminding Wooyoung that it was all an act. Wooyoung's gaze meets yours, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Of course, darling," he says, his tone laced with sarcasm. "I forgot we're just pretending to be in love. How convenient." He pauses, his expression turned icy once more. You could tell Wooyoung’s own morals were starting to slip. Just yesterday he was preaching to you how love was pointless but now he suddenly forgets that the love that you give to him is all pretend. You start to scoff to yourself realizing that Wooyoung isn’t as strong as he thinks he is.

You take a sip of your tea and your eyes wander his body, looking at Wooyoung up and down. You notice the visible tent in his pants and you couldn’t help but piss him off. “You need to control that before the Kangs get here.” His eyes narrow, his face flushing with a subtle hint of embarrassment. He quickly regains his composure, his mask of confidence slipping back into place. "It's none of your concern," he says, his voice low and even. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself and roll your eyes knowing that he was flustered by simple one kiss. Wooyoung's eyes flash with annoyance, his jaw clenched in irritation. "What's so funny?" he asks, his tone dripping with disdain. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to subtly adjust himself without drawing attention to the obvious signs of his arousal.

“The only thing funny in this situation is how hard you are from me kissing you. We are described as an overly affectionate couple, so you can’t just get hard like you aren’t used to us kissing.” His eyes flashed with anger and embarrassment at your comment. "Shut up," he says, his voice low and menacing. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but his arousal remains evident. "You think you're clever, don't you?" You pause and smile to yourself as you feel Wooyoung’s facade fading at your command. You quickly changed your demeanor from cold to warm. You turned and looked at Wooyoung, a precious smile painted on your face,

“I do my love.” Wooyoung's expression softens, his eyes warming up as he gazes at you. He clears his throat, attempting to maintain a semblance of dignity despite his still-obvious arousal. "Ah, dear," he says, his voice slightly wavering, "you're not helping the situation." You look at him as if he is a lost puppy before speaking. “Well my love, you better fix it soon before they get here. Imagine their first impression of Mr. Kang is his boner poking out of his trousers.” You chuckle softly seeing a peak of his softer side come out because of his embarrassment.

Wooyoung's face turns bright red as he glances down at his crotch, his embarrassment and frustration palpable. He hastily adjusts himself, trying to hide the evidence of his arousal. "Dammit, y/n," he mutters under his breath, "you're not making this any easier for me."

“I’m not doing anything, your mind is just filled with dirty thoughts and you need to get rid of them.” Your response struck a nerve with him causing him to become defensive. "My mind is not filled with dirty thoughts," he protests, though his voice lacks conviction. He straightens his tie, his motions stiff and awkward. “I'm a respected businessman, not some hormone-driven teenager.”

“Wooyoung I just kissed you, you are hard as a rock right now. Last night you watched me play with myself in the bathtub. You aren’t a saint.” His face reddening further as he struggles to maintain his composure. "That's not the point," he snaps back, trying to ignore the fact that you were right. You could see him struggling in the moment so you decided to make him struggle even more. “Oh my beloved husband, then what is the point?” He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. "I-I don't know what you're trying to do, but it won't work," He stutters before looking back at the contract.

“My love I’m not doing anything I’m just practicing for when they come,” you say softly before smirking at him with amusement. You can see the anger emanating from Wooyoung as he looks you in the eyes. "So you think you can just play me like a fool?" He sets down the paperwork on the coffee table, his voice dripping with venom. "You think you can use your charms to manipulate me, to get what you want?" You could sense that Wooyoung’s anger was getting the best of him. He didn’t like being controlled so this whole situation fueled his rage even more. The idea of you manipulating him and you being in control made him feel inferior to you. This caused his reactions to be radioactive and his emotions to be erratic and almost seem bipolar.

“I’m practicing on you so I can get what we want from the Kangs. All we need is for them to take the deal that’s it. Then we can go back to being ourselves.” You said, your expression is a bit more serious. You were trying to reassure Wooyoung of why you were doing the things that you were doing to him. But in reality, you wanted to see a glimpse of the softer side you never got to experience. Wooyoung's expression subsides, his anger giving way to a calculating curiosity. "I see," he pauses before speaking again. "You're using me as a test subject, to refine your skills before the real negotiation. And what makes you think this will work?" A sly smirk danced across your lips. “It always works. Why do you think Hongjoong speaks so highly of me?” you allude before taking a sip of your tea. His gaze lingers on the smirk, "Hongjoong," he repeats, his tone neutral, but laced with a hint of warning. "You think you're that good, huh?” You rolled your eyes knowing that Wooyoung didn’t know half. He didn’t know that before you were both in an arranged marriage you had eyes on Hongjoong. You had Hongjoong around your finger until both of your parents decided to arrange the both of you together.

“Trust me darling I know I am.” You scoff followed by a chuckle. Wooyoung’s expression remains impassive, but his eyes flicker with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "Save it for the Kangs, sweetheart," he says, his voice dry. "I'm not impressed." He glances at his watch, his gaze lingering on the time. “That’s because you know my secret.” Wooyoung's eyes narrow, his interest piqued despite himself. "And what secret would that be?" he asks, his voice low and even, but with a hint of curiosity lurking beneath the surface.

You get up once again and hover yourself over him again. “That I can change my character swiftly to get whatever I want,” you whisper in his ear. “Just like how you got hard from me acting as your loving wife that fucks you right,” you said trailing my hands down his chest. Wooyoung's eyes flash with anger, but his body betrays him, his chest rising and falling with a sudden intake of breath. He tries to maintain his composure. "You think your little manipulative games are going to work on me?"

“Absolutely my love” you whisper, followed by kissing him on his neck. Wooyoung's eyes drift closed, his jaw clenched as he struggles to resist the sensations coursing through his body. His hands, however, involuntarily flex, as if craving to grasp and hold onto you. “Darling if this deal is successful with the Kangs I’ll let you take me,” you whispered your lips touching his ear. His breathing grows heavier, his control wavering as his gaze snaps back to yours. For a moment, his eyes burn with a fierce intensity, and his voice drops to a low, husky tone. "You're pushing it, sweetheart." You ignore his threat and continue to tease him further. “Just imagine how desperate I sound as you ram into me.” You then proceed to moan in his ear, “Mmmm Wooyoung,” you playfully moaned before giggling.

Wooyoung’s face darkens, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and desire. His hands shoot out and grasp your arms. He pulls you infront of him and tails his hands down to your hips as he pulls you onto his lap. "You want to play dirty, huh?" His voice is low and menacing, his breathing hot against your ear. You chuckle as he sits you on his lap. “Absolutely.”

"Then let's be nasty," he whispers, trailing his fingers along your jaw to turn your face towards his. He then leaned in to claim your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands roam freely over your body as he whispers wicked things in your ear. "Fuck, you're gorgeous." You smirk against the kiss mischievously “Just how you like it, my love.”

"You're a fucking danger," he mutters, his lips quirking into a smirk as he pulls back to look at you. "But I fucking love it." You chuckle getting off his lap and moving your way back to your side of the couch. His gaze follows your every move as you saunter back to your seat. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with a slow, deliberate slowness. "Tease." You take another sip of your tea before saying, “Trust me I know how to do that the best baby,” His gaze never leaves yours, his eyes flashing with a hint of warning as he raises an eyebrow. "Don't think you've gotten out of this that easily, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and silky, a promise of retribution lurking beneath the surface. You chuckle in amusement. He was so easy to turn on even when we were just “pretending”.

Wooyoung seems to gleam with a knowing intensity as if he's aware of the game you're playing and is more than willing to play along. He leans back on the couch, steepling his fingers together as he regards you with an air of quiet confidence.

The doorbell rings and you both get up and walk to the door. “Remember we are a loving husband and wife.” Wooyoung shoots you a dry look, but a hint of a smirk plays on his lips as he takes your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture of affection. He opens the door, his smile widening into a charming, effortless grin as he greets whoever is on the other side.

“Hi Mr. and Mrs. Kang please come in.” you give a pleasant smile before moving to the side. Wooyoung's grip on your hand tightens slightly as he steps aside, allowing the Kangs to enter. He nods cordially, his smile never faltering, as he ushers them into the living room. "Please, make yourselves at home. Can I offer you something to drink?" The Kangs say they would simply want water and this signals Wooyoung to go to the kitchen. “It’s such a nice day outside. Amazing weather for golf. Me and my husband were just discussing that not long before you both came in.” you smiled flashing your charm. Wooyoung returns with a tray holding four glasses of water, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he hands them out with a courteous smile. "Ah, yes, the weather is perfect for golf, isn't it? We were thinking of squeezing in a round later this week.”

You smile at Wooyoung, grab the glasses from the tray and place them down on the coffee table. Wooyoung's gaze lingers on you for a moment, appreciating the grace with which you handle the glasses. He sets the tray down on the nearby sideboard, his eyes twinkling as he turns back to the conversation. "You both play golf?" Mr. Kang nods and goes on a tangent about how he goes frequently. He talks about how he loves going early in the morning and you and Wooyoung listen intensively, smiling and nodding. Mrs. Kang makes a joke about his obsession causing everyone to laugh. “Trust me my husband is the same way.” You chuckle.

Wooyoung's laughter is a low, smooth sound, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he joins in the amusement. He inclines his head towards you, his gaze warm with shared understanding, before turning back to the Kangs. “I heard that you both will be going on vacation soon isn’t that exciting? A month's vacation is a treat.” You smile looking at them. Mr. Kang nods and talks about the planned trip to the Virgin Islands and how he wants to treat his wife to something special. “Oooh a romantic I see.” you giggle flashing Mrs. Kang a smile. Mr. Kang smiles back and kisses his wife on the cheek.

“I just know you both will have an amazing time. Should we go over the business deal?” You smile reaching out of your briefcase to pull out a contract. Wooyoung's attention snaps back to you, his eyes locking onto the contract in your hand. His expression transforms the geniality of moments before giving way to a sharp, calculating intensity. He nods curtly, his voice taking on a clipped tone. "Yes, let's get down to business.” You go over the paperwork with the Kangs for a good 2 hours. There was a lot of negotiation involved but it seemed like they were pleased with the offer. “Okay then it’s settled, just sign here for me.” Mr. and Mrs. Kang signed the contract and everyone got up and shook each other's hand. Everyone continued to make small talk and laugh just before they left. You and Wooyoung waved as they left and Wooyoung shut the door. As the door closes behind the Kangs, Wooyoung's demeanor shifts once again, his expression becoming more relaxed, though still guarded. He turns to face you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he surveys you. "Well done," he says, his tone firm. "You handled that meeting like a pro.”

“Of course I did. I told you I was good at charming people. We needed the deal so I had to do what was best. I’m just happy that the Kangs took the bait.” I said exhaling my body relaxing.

Wooyoung's gaze lingers on you for a moment, his eyes seem to be searching for something beneath the surface. Then, he nods, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Yes, charming people is indeed one of your talents." You chuckle at his comment and pick up the cups off the table. “Yeah, I had you pretty worked up earlier.” Wooyoung's expression remains impassive, but a hint of dry humor creeps into his voice. "Worked up? I was merely intrigued by your audacity." He glances at the cups in your hand, his attention snapping back to the task at hand. “Right.” you chuckle gathering up the glasses and taking them to the kitchen. Wooyoung follows you to the kitchen, his footsteps quiet on the floor. He leans against the counter, watching you with an air of casual interest as you put the cups in the dishwasher. "So, what do you think the Kangs will do next?"

“Well first go on their vacation then continue with their regular business,” you say closing the dishwasher. “What are you doing the rest of the day?” Wooyoung's eyes narrow slightly, his gaze turning introspective. "I have a meeting with a potential investor later today. And then, I have some personal matters to attend to." You look down at your watch before saying, “Got it, well I will be here working on my work once you get busy. Is there anything you would like to do for the time being?” Wooyoung's gaze flicks to your watch, then back to your face, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Actually, I think I'll join you in the living room. I have some documents to review, and your company is tolerable." You roll your eyes at his sly comment.

“Okay sounds good,” You say before getting out a charcuterie board and a glass of wine. Wooyoung raises an eyebrow as he leans against the counter beside you, his eyes fixed on the charcuterie board and wine. "You're trying to impress me, aren't you?" His tone is laced with dry humor, but a hint of curiosity creeps into his voice. “Absolutely not, I’m trying to enjoy myself after a job well done. I know you are a whisky guy, not a wine man.” you chuckle pouring yourself a glass.

Wooyoung's expression remains unreadable, but a faint glint of approval sparks in his eyes. "You're learning. Most people wouldn't dare assume my preferences, let alone correct themselves." “I’m your wife, even though we don’t spend that much time together I know what you like.” You say before grabbing the board and wine and making your way to the living room. Wooyoung follows you, his long strides eating up the distance as he hovers behind you. "I suppose that's true," he says, his voice low and measured. "Though I've often wondered if our arrangement is more convenient for you than I previously thought."

“Convenient how?” you chuckle placing the wine and board on the coffee table. Wooyoung's gaze narrows, his eyes piercing as he regards you. "Don't play coy, darling. Our marriage is a mutually beneficial arrangement, isn't it? I receive the respectability of being married to someone of your standing, and you gain access to my resources and influence."

“This is true,” you say before walking down the long hallway to your shared bedroom to change into something comfortable. You strip away your dress leaving only your panties and bra on and wrap your body in my silk-green robe. You could feel Wooyoung’s eyes tracking your movements from the doorway. You turn to look at him, his eyes never leaving yours, his expression unreadable. “You didn’t have to follow me. You could have just stayed in the living room. Unless you need something.” you teased undoing the strap on your robe and flashing your body to him, your lace set looking at him. Wooyoung's gaze doesn't waver, his eyes locked onto the tantalizing glimpse of your body. A slight raise of his eyebrow is the only indication of his interest, but his voice remains smooth and controlled. "I think I do need something, darling. Your attention, perhaps?"

“How could I give you my attention my darling husband?” you say sarcastically closing your robe and leaving the room. Wooyoung's eyes narrow, a faint spark of amusement dancing in their depths. He strides after you, his legs easily keeping pace with yours. "You know exactly how my dear wife. You're not as innocent as you're pretending to be." You chuckle, loving this game of him following me around like you're his prey. “How would you know? You never dabbled in peeking at my arousal. You have no idea if I’m innocent or not.” Wooyoung's smile grows, a calculated glint in his eye as he corners you in the hallway. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong, my love. I've been watching you, studying you. I know exactly when to make my move, and exactly how to get what I want."

“Mmm, I’m sorry my dear” you smirk wrapping your fingers around his tie and pulling him closer to you, your lips lining up with his ear. “I hate to break it to you but I won’t easily crumble under your touch. No matter how much I want you to fuck me you will have to chase me,” you say before letting go of his tie and walking back to the living room. Wooyoung's eyes flash with a mix of surprise and intrigue, his pupils dilating slightly as he processes your bold move. "Is that a challenge, my love?"

“In ways yes. It’s more of a challenge for you and not for me. I have self-control. You on the other hand do not. See how long you can last before you pounce on me.” you tease, sitting down on the couch, drinking my wine. Wooyoung's gaze lingers on you, his eyes tracing the curve of your lips as you smile. He takes a step closer, his movements deliberate and calculated, his voice low and husky. "I'll have you know, I've built my empire on self-control.” You put a piece of meat and cheese into your mouth, looking up at him. “Is that right?” you chuckle. He takes another step closer, his presence looming over you like a dark shadow. "Yes, that's right," he says, his voice dripping with confidence.

You take a piece of meat and cheese and get up from the couch. You walk over to Wooyoung and guide it to his mouth. “We will see how much self-control you have my dear husband.” Wooyoung's eyes flash with surprise, his gaze fixed on the offering. For a moment, he seems to hesitate, his mouth opening slightly as if to accept the snack. Then, his expression darkens, and he reaches out to grasp your wrist, his grip like a vice. “What is it, my love? You can’t eat from my fingers?” you chuckle looking up at him. Wooyoung's grip tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he glares down at you. His eyes flash with fury, and for a moment, it seems as if he might lose control. "I am not your plaything," he growls, his voice barely controlled.

“If you say so my love.” you smile removing your wrist from his grasp and eating the snack. “I just wanted to please you that’s all,” you say caressing his arm with your hand before you sit back on the couch. Wooyoung's gaze follows your every move, his eyes burning with intensity. For a moment, he seems to be collecting himself, his expression a mask of calmness. "You think you can manipulate me with such childish games?" You roll your eyes and look down. “Tell your dick that,” you say referring to the visible tent in his pants. You then take a sip of your wine. Wooyoung's face darkens, his eyes flashing with anger. He takes a step closer to you, his voice low and menacing. "You think you're clever, don't you?" he sneers, his eyes fixed on yours. "But you're just playing with fire, darling.” You scoff, “From the looks of it baby, you are the one playing with fire. You’re the one all worked up and hot.” You say eating a grape and laying back on the couch.

Wooyoung's eyes narrow, his jaw clenched in frustration. He takes another step closer, his presence looming over you as he speaks. "You're pushing your luck, sweetheart. You think you can tease me like this and get away with it?" “Absolutely because you have self-control. remember?” you grab another grape and eat it. He reaches out, his hand grasping the armrest of the couch beside you, his fingers digging into the leather as he leans in closer. "Self-control is a myth when it comes to you, darling." You giggle at his words finally seeing that he has broken his cold facade. You place your hand on his cheek and caress it softly. “Are you losing control, my love?” Wooyoung's eyes flutter closed, his breathing quickening as he succumbs to your touch. He presses his cheek into your hand, his skin warm against your palm. For a moment, his guard drops, and his mask of control slips, revealing a glimmer of vulnerability beneath. "Maybe."

You look at him softly seeing his demeanor change. “Then come here, baby,” you breathe before pulling him closer by his tie and placing a kiss on his lips. Wooyoung's eyes snap open, his lips parting in surprise as you pull him in for a kiss. “You look so good today Wooyoung,” you said between the kiss. For a moment, he's frozen, his body tense with anticipation. Then he yields, his lips crashing against yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. Wooyoung's hands wrap around your waist, pulling you off the couch and into his arms as he deepens the kiss. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you in place as he devours your lips. The air around you seems to be charged with electricity, your desire and passion coursing through every nerve in your body. You pull away for a moment and look at his face, seeing the need in his expression. “Don’t you have some paperwork to do my love?” You tease him watching the frustration sweep across his face. He exhales heavily, his chest heaving with restrained passion. "Paperwork?" he repeats, his voice low and rough, heavy with disappointment. "You think I care about paperwork right now?"

“That’s what I like to hear baby.” You then press my lips back onto his. Wooyoung's scowl disappears, replaced by pleasure as he claims your lips once more. He devours you, his tongue tangling with yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. His hands slide up your back, pulling you even closer, his body molding against yours. “Fuck...” you gasp against the kiss as you reach down to his suit jacket and start to unbutton it, causing his breath to hitch. His hands suddenly grip onto your wrist and squeeze tightly as if he was trying to hold back. He breaks the kiss, a low moan escaping his lips as he watches your fingers work on his buttons. "You're forcing my hand, love,"

You remove his jacket and breath in his ear, “To be honest darling, I couldn’t give a fuck.” you say before pressing your lips back together. Wooyoung's eyes roll back, his body shuddering against yours. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in with fierce possessiveness. His lips devour yours, his tongue stroking yours with a slow, deliberate intensity.

You start to unbutton his button-down as you kiss passionately. “Ever since I saw you shirtless at our honeymoon I have wanted you since. I can’t believe you didn’t fuck me that night. You're such a tease.” you said against his lips. He moans, his lips faltering for a moment as he pulls back, his eyes blazing with intensity. "You think I didn't want to?"

“Why didn’t you? I was waiting. I touched myself that night because of you.” You pulled his button down completely off, running your hands down his chest to his stomach. Wooyoung's face darkens, his jaw clenched in restraint. His hands slide up your back, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer. "I was trying to be a gentleman," he growls, his voice low. “It was our honeymoon, we were married at that point. I wanted you to ruin me,” you say before starting to unbuckle his pants. He hisses, his body tensing as he tries to maintain control. "You have no idea how hard it was for me to restrain myself that night," he breathed trying to keep it together.

“Well, baby you can make up for it right now.” You say unbuttoning his pants and unzipping them. You then unravel my robe and expose my lace underwear set to him. Wooyoung's gaze devours your body, his eyes lingering on the lace underwear before snapping back to yours. You pull him in closer and whisper. “Where do you want me? In the living room? In the bedroom?” You pause and smirk against his ear. “In your office?” His chest heaves with a ragged breath as he struggles to maintain his composure. "My office," *he demands, his voice barely above a whisper.

You chuckle before getting up and grabbing his hand, guiding him to his office in just your lingerie. Wooyoung's eyes never leave yours as he follows you, his grip on your hand tightening. He slams the door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the room. He spins you around, his hands grasping your waist as he pushes you against the desk. You moan wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Wooyoung's lips crash down on yours, his kiss fierce and demanding. His hands roam your body, tracing the curves of your waist and hips before grasping your thighs and lifting you onto the desk. "I've wanted this for so long," he confesses between the kiss. “So have I,” you say before reaching behind your back and unhooking your bra, tossing it across the room. Wooyoung's eyes widen as your bra flies across the room, his gaze immediately snapping back to your now-exposed breasts. He takes a step closer, his breathing heavy, as he cups your boobs in his hands. His thumbs tease your nipples, sending a chill to your core.

“Fuck,” you breathe before reaching down and rubbing your hand along his still-clothe shaft. Wooyoung groans as he thrusts into your palm, his hips moving on their own accord. "You have no idea how many nights I've jerked off to thoughts of this," he confesses, his eyes burning into yours. “Then I plan to make it more than you ever imagined.” You pull down his pants slightly and rub him through his boxers. “So thick.” you breathe, pressing a kiss on his lips. Wooyoung's hips buck into your hand, a low moan escaping his lips as you rub him through his boxers. He breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Get rid of these," *he commands, nodding towards your panties.

You reached for your panties and slid them off, a trail of my juices connecting from your panties to your core. Wooyoung's eyes flicker down to the glistening wet trail leading from your discarded panties to your slick core causing his pupils to dilate. "Spread your legs," he orders, his voice low and commanding. You spread your legs and look him into his eyes. Wooyoung's gaze lingers on your exposed core for a moment, his breath hitching as he drinks at the sight of you. With a swift movement, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pushes them down, freeing his member. His dick slaps against your thigh and your eyes grow wide at his size. Wooyoung's lips curl into a smug smirk as he notices your reaction to the size of his dick. He grips his shaft, giving it a few slow, deliberate strokes. "You're going to take all of me," he promises, his voice dripping with confidence. "Every inch."

You look at him and your demeanor turns from confident to sheepish. You take a deep breath and nod your head letting him know that you agree to take him. Wooyoung's smirk grows wider at your submissive nod, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. He steps closer, his tip brushing against your soaked folds. "Good girl," he purrs, his voice low and approving. "Now, spread your legs wider for me." You do as you are told and spread your legs, looking at him as you do so. Wooyoung's eyes darken with lust as he takes in the sight of your spread thighs, your pussy glistening with arousal. He positions the head of his cock at your entrance.. "Look at me," he commands, his voice rough with desire. You look at him shyly and bite your lip in anticipation. Wooyoung's nostrils flare as he notices your nervous gesture. With one slow, careful thrust, he begins to push himself inside you, his hard length stretching you wide. "You're so tight," he murmurs, his voice filled with approval. You couldn’t help but roll my eyes back, your walls clenching around him, your walls near your cervix finally being touched.

Wooyoung's gaze locks onto your face, his eyes intense as he watches you react to him thrusting inside you. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to his size before pulling almost out, only the head of his cock remaining inside you. You feel your walls clench around nothing making your heart race in desperation. Wooyoung's lips quirk at the corners as he sees your desperate need. Taking pity on you, he pushes back inside, filling you once more. This time, he sets a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you with deep, powerful strokes. "Breathe, baby," he insists as he watches you hold your breath. “Holy fuck,” you moan trying to keep your composure. "Keep moaning for me," he demands watching you come undone in front of him.

“Wooyoung, augh-” you moan out gibberish your mind completely spiraling with each thrust. You lay your back flat on the desk not being able to hold yourself up anymore. Your body feels weak as you focus all of your energy on clenching around him. Wooyoung's eyes flash with excitement as he sees you surrender to his touch. He leans forward, "Give in, baby. Give into me," he whispers, his words pulling you over the edge. “I- aaaugh,” you moan in desperation gripping his arm and clawing slightly. Wooyoung's grip on your hips tightens as he senses your impending orgasm. He thrusts harder, faster, his cock pounding into you recklessly. "You look so sexy like this baby," he growls, his voice laced with urgency, his pleasure building with each passing second.

“Fuck-” you breathe as he goes faster, you trail your fingers down to your clit and start to rub. Your walls twitch as you get closer. Wooyoung watches you with intense focus, his climax rapidly approaching as he feels your walls begin to flutter around his cock. He reaches down, capturing your hand in his and forcing it away from your clit, his voice a low, dominant command. "No, baby. I'll decide when you come," You whimper looking up at him with pleading eyes, “Please-” Wooyoung's gaze is unwavering as he pins you beneath him, his thumb finding your clit and applying firm pressure. His hips ram into you, his cock driving deeper with each stroke. "When I say so, baby. Not a moment before,"

“Shit shit shit shit shit-” you moan trying your best to hold back from exploding around him. Wooyoung's eyes darken with lust as he sees how close you are. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I can feel you teetering, baby. Hold on just a bit longer." You reach for his head, gripping his hair tightly as you feel your walls quiver around him. Wooyoung's head jerks back slightly as you grasp his hair, his eyes flashing with a spark of pleasure. He hisses, his cock surging forward in response to your tightening walls. "Good girl," he breathes. "Now, come for me."

“Mmmmm Wooyoung!” you yell as you feel the knot in your core pop. You feel myself squirt all over his dick and stomach causing it to trail down onto his desk. Wooyoung's eyes roll back as he feels your pussy clench and pulse around him, your juices soaking his cock and belly. With a guttural groan, he buries himself into your soaked core and lets go, his orgasm washing over him in intense waves. "FUCK!" He drops down and nuzzles his face into the crock of your neck. Wooyoung's arms wrap around you, holding you close as your orgasm continues. His own breathing is heavy and labored, his muscles tense with aftershocks. You continue to shake involuntarily, holding onto him for support. "Easy now," he murmurs gently, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispers soothing words.

“Mmmm holy shit.” you gasp, trying to calm yourself down from your intense orgasm. "Did you enjoy that?" Wooyoung asks, his voice still shaky from exertion. He presses a tender kiss to your forehead before slowly pulling out of you, his softened cock slipping free with a wet, slick sound. “Yes… a lot,” you said shyly as his cum starts to leak out of your core. A satisfied smirk tugs at the corner of Wooyoung's lips as he sees the result of his hard work. "Good girl," he praises, causing your cheeks to flush a light shade of red. He then reached down to gently wipe away the excess with his fingers before sucking them clean. "I'll take care of you now." Your eyes then open wide as you see him lick up a combination of my juices and his cum off his fingers. Wooyoung's gaze locks onto yours, his eyes burning with a sensual intensity as he savors the taste. A hint of amusement plays on his lips as if he knows exactly how his actions are affecting you. "Mm, you taste amazing," he whispers.

Your pussy twitches at his words causing more of his cum to leak out of your core. Wooyoung's eyes darken with renewed interest at the sight of his release dripping from your still-sensitive core. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lick the trail of his cum from your inner thigh to your glistening pussy lips. "Delicious," he murmurs approvingly. You whimper and bite your lip in desperation. “Can we please… go another round?” Hearing your desperate plea, Wooyoung's eyes glint with desire. He moves between your legs, his cock twitching as he teases your entrance. "You want more, hm?" he teases, slowly pushing inside you. "Y-yes.” you moan, looking into his eyes and biting your lip.

Wooyoung's expression softens slightly at your eager response. He grips your hips possessively as he thrusts the rest of the way in, his thick length stretching you once again. "Wrap your legs around me, baby," he instructs gently, his voice belaying the dominance of his actions. “Fuck-” you breathe, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him deeper inside you. "I'm going to take you nice and slow this time, so I can watch you fall apart." His fingers dig into your soft skin, holding you close as he begins to move. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, each one causing you to moan in pleasure as he fills you completely. "That's right," he moans as you both look each other in the eyes. “Oh my god, that feels so good baby,” you moan rubbing your hand against his forearm. He leans down, his forehead pressed against yours as he continues his slow, deep thrusts. "You like that, don't you?" he murmurs against your lips. "You like feeling me inside you, stretching you, claiming you?"

“Yes, oh god yes,” you breathe, looking into his eyes. He leans in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss as he increases the pace of his thrusts. His tongue tangles with yours, the movement mirroring the deep, claiming strokes of his cock inside you. You run your hand along his back gently clawing as he thrust into you. Wooyoung groans into the kiss, his body tensing as your nails dig into his skin. He breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he looks down at you with a fierce, possessive gaze. "Mine," he growls, his hips snapping forward in a harder, more demanding thrust. “Yours,” you breathed looking at him with half-lidded eyes. His face flashes with satisfaction at your surrender, and he thrust deeper, his cock stroking a spot that makes you spiral. "Always mine," he repeats, his voice low and menacing, as if daring anyone to try and take you from him, "Forever."

“Forever” you repeat, your eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure. Wooyoung's thrusts become erratic as the promise of forever sends him spiraling toward release. His cock swells inside you, and he groans deeply as he empties himself, filling you with his seed. "Forever," he repeats again and again, like a mantra. You start to rub his back as he comes down from his high. “Together forever,” you whispered in his ear. Wooyoung shivers at your whispered words, his body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. He turns his head, nuzzling his face into your neck as he wraps his arms around you protectively. "Always," he agrees, his voice rough with emotion. "Together, always." A tear starts to fall from your face knowing that Wooyoung finally sees me as his wife..

Wooyoung feels the tear come down on his cheek and he removes himself from your neck to look at you. His eyes soften as he notices the tear, and his gaze follows it as it rolls down your cheek. He gently wipes it away with his thumb, his touch tender. "My wife," he whispers, his voice filled with a deep affection, "my love." You pout as more tears start to stream down your cheeks, “I’m sorry I don’t mean to cry.” Wooyoung shakes his head, a small smile gracing his lips. "Don’t apologize," he murmurs, kissing your forehead softly. "Your tears are precious to me." His thumb continues to gently stroke your cheek as he holds you close, offering comfort and reassurance. You press your head closer to his hand, wanting his touch to be closer to you.

Wooyoung's smile widens, and his eyes crinkle at the corners as he gazes at you with warmth. He leans in, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle, tender kiss. "You are precious to me," he whispers. "You’re all I’ve ever wanted Wooyoung” you respond, caressing his shoulder. Wooyoung's eyes flutter closed, and he takes a deep breath as if savoring the words. His fingers tighten around you, pulling you closer as he buries his face in the curve of your neck. "And you, my love," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. “I’m so happy right now,” you smile. Wooyoung's face relaxes, and he exhales a contented sigh, his body melting into yours as he lets go of all reserve. His arms wrap tightly around you, holding you close as he nuzzles his head deeper into the curve of your neck. "I am happy too."

“I- I love you Wooyoung.” you express another tear falling down your face. Wooyoung's eyes snap open, and he lifts his head to gaze at you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. His face is etched with vulnerability, his voice barely above a whisper. "I love you too," he says, his words dripping with sincerity.

You giggle and move his hair out of his face. “We should get cleaned up. We made a huge mess on your desk.” Wooyoung's gaze lingers on yours, his eyes softening with affection before he nods and stands up, pulling you with him. He looks down at the mess on his desk and lets out a low chuckle. "I suppose we did," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. He carries you to the bathroom, turns on the shower, and you both get in together. As the warm water cascades down on you, Wooyoung wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he gently washes away the remnants of the passionate encounter. His hands move with a tender touch, his fingers tracing the curves of your body as he cleans you. "You know," he says suddenly. “Hmm?” you ask opening your eyes. Wooyoung's eyes lock onto yours, his gaze intimate as he continues. "I think I'm falling for you." He pauses, his chest rising with a deep breath as he searches your face for a reaction. "Hard."

“Now you see how I feel my love.” you giggle turning around and pressing your head against his chest. Wooyoung's arms tighten around you, holding you close as he rests his head on top of yours, inhaling deeply. He lets out a soft sigh, his body relaxing into the embrace as he whispers "My love," He kisses the top of your head, his lips gentle and adoring. Wooyoung's lips curve into a soft smile as he speaks, his voice filled with a warmth that's rarely seen. "I never thought I'd find someone like you. You're different. You make me feel" He pauses, his words trailing off as he searches for the right phrase. His gaze drifts downward, his eyes locking onto yours as he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. "Human." He says the word as if it's a revelation, a subtle tremble in his hand as he strokes your hair.

Your eyes soften as you look at him with adoration. “Of course baby.” You get on your tippy toes and lay a soft kiss on his lips. Wooyoung's eyes flutter closed as your lips touch his, a soft sigh escaping him as he savors the gentle kiss. He deepens the kiss, his lips moving slowly and sweetly against yours, his arms tightening around you to pull you closer. “You’re my special human,” you cooed between the kiss. Wooyoung chuckles, his lips still moving against yours as he responds. "You're my everything," he whispers, his words muffled by the kiss.

“No, you’re my everything.” you giggle and smile into the kiss. Wooyoung's smile mirrors yours, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, tender motion. "I think we can agree on that," he says, smiling warmly. You giggle and press your forehead on top of his, looking into his eyes. Wooyoung's gaze holds yours, his eyes darkening with emotion as he searches for words to express the depth of his feelings. "You're the only one who's ever seen me, truly seen me," he whispers, his voice trembling with vulnerability. “Oh Wooyoung.” you coo, rubbing his body to soothe his emotions.

Wooyoung's eyes flutter closed, his face tilting into the gentle touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he relaxes into your embrace. "You're my safe haven," he whispers, his voice barely audible, as if the words are being torn from the depths of his soul. “You’re mine as well baby.” you express continuing to rub him. Wooyoung's arms wrap around you, pulling you close as he buries his face in the curve of your neck, "I don't deserve you."

“Trust me baby you deserve me. The most stubborn individuals always need their small adoring fairy.” You kiss his cheek and rub his head. A soft, husky laugh escapes Wooyoung's lips as he nuzzles his face deeper into the crook of your neck, his arms tightening around you. "You're the only one who can tame me, little fairy," he whispers, his voice laced with affection and gratitude. You giggle, “And now I have a stubborn man that I have to take care of. But I don’t mind at all.” Wooyoung's eyes sparkle with amusement, a small smile playing on his lips as he pulls back to gaze at you, his face soft and affectionate. "You're stuck with me, little one,"

“I know, forever.” you chuckle, pressing a kiss on his lips. Wooyoung's lips curve upwards, meeting yours in a gentle, tender kiss, as if savoring the promise of forever. "Forever," he whispers, his voice filled with conviction, his eyes locking onto yours, shining with a deep, abiding love.

#ateez #atiny #kpop #wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez angst

508 notes · View notes

twice-inamillion · 10 months ago

Text

The Company

Peeping Tom

Smut and Story Building (Blackmail, Deep Penetration, Defloration, Creampie, Rough Sex, First Time, Choking, Light BDSM, objectification)

Chapter 6

3,585 Words

(You encounter a peeping Tom as you have fun with one of your assistants. She tries to use her newfound information against you, but instead, you end up using her. By the end, you found yourself a new toy to play with.)

You return to your office with IU after a business meeting outside the company. The two of you talk about what just occurred during the last few days and how busy it’s going to get moving forward.

“How does it feel receiving your first private jet, sir?”

“I’m excited; I remember riding on my father’s jet when I was younger and always wanted one of my own. Now I just need to get it customized, and I’ll be able to use it.”

“Before that, we need to hire a flight attendant.”

“That’s true.”

“What about asking your father for one of his?”

“No, I'd rather get someone that has nothing to do with my father. I don’t want them to tell him anything about my business.”

“I’ll try to put a post online to hire an assistant.”

“Sounds good.”

“Any requirements?”

“Someone not too old, eye candy. You know my tastes.”

“Okay, I’ll try my best.”

“Also, any news on Big Hit and JYP?”

“I’ve heard that they are suffering a bit money-wise, so I think they are going to accept your offer.”

“Let’s see what they say. I don’t want to buy them outright, but I do want to hold a good chunk of shares, especially Big Hit. Bang Si-Hyuk seems like a pretty cool guy. He gave me a tour of his small building and even introduced me to his debuting group a while back. I really want to help the guy.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy with anything you give him, sir.”

“Let’s see how it goes.”

IU then hands you some documents and says, “This is some information I found out about JYP Entertainment. If you look at the third page, you can see that JYP was going to debut a new girl group under the name “6MIX,” but it fell through.”

“Oh, it seems like they had a hard time debuting due to one of their members leaving.”

“Yes, they added another member, Sana. It seemed like they were going to debut, but another of their leader also left the company, so they ended up scrapping the whole thing.”

“Poor girls, so much hard work and training to debut only to have it scrapped.”

“Yes, one in particular has been in their company for a long time. I heard she’s a very good singer.”

“Oh really? If JYP accepts the help, maybe I can ask him to release them from their contracts and send them my way.”

“I’ll keep you posted if there is any news, sir.”

“Thank you.”

“Would that be all, sir?”

“Yes.”

“I have a meeting with one of the girls, so I’ll head to my office.”

“Actually, I’m going to grab a bite at the cafeteria, so I’ll walk with you.”

The two of you walk towards the hallway, slap IU's ass, and walk the opposite from each other. Little did you know that you were seen by someone, the person IU was going to have a meeting with.

————

You get a message from IU that she has received some inflation about the deal with Big Hit and JYP as you are coming from the gym. It’s been a few days since you got any information, so you’re excited to see what’s going on. Without changing, you walk into her office, sit on the couch, and listen to some good news.

You might not have noticed that Jennie has been curious about the relationship you and IU have since she’s a higher-up than you. She doesn’t know about your real position in the company and only thinks of you as one of the staff members. She was shocked when she saw you slapped IU on her ass and decided to follow you after that.

Today, she had another meeting with IU and planned on having a light snack at the cafeteria before meeting up with her. Since she finished early, she decided to head up to the administration floor and relax on the outdoor patio before the meeting. She exits the elevator and makes it to the top floor. Jennie walks down the hallway and notices how quiet it is. She wandered around and found Irene’s and the CEO's office before hearing a faint noise coming from the hall. She quietly makes her way to the noises and gets to IU’s office from where the noise is coming from.

Jennie tries to listen and places her ear by the door. She hears moaning coming from the other side. She tries to make up what the people instead are saying and can only decipher the male voices yelling that he’s going to cum.

After some silence, she notices that the voices are getting nearer and runs towards the opposite side of the hallway to where the patio is. She peeks her head out and sees you coming out the door and IU fixing her skirt.

“What the fuck, were they fucking in her office?”

“Omg, he’s getting it on with a higher-up in the company. Maybe I can use this.”

————

Later that night, you get a message from Jennie from your staff phone. You read the message, and it is asking you for help moving some items around the house. You’re not in the mood to message her that you can do it tomorrow, but she is persistent.

Somewhat annoyed, you put on a shirt and head down the elevator to the floor where their apartment is. You ring the doorbell, and Jennie opens the door within a few seconds. She wears a loose crop top and small shorts that show off her petite body.

“You said you needed to move some stuff, right?”

“Yeah, it’s in the living room.”

You walk to the living room and see the items she was referring to. You spend about ten minutes moving the things, and Jennie is watching you up close the whole time.

“Is that all you needed?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Alright, I’m going. I’m tired.”

“Okay, but I’ll call you if I need anything.”

“Please, don’t. The stuff wasn’t that heavy. Maybe try moving it between the five of you before calling me.”

You can tell that Jennie got upset by this based on her facial expression. “I don’t know why you’re complaining; it's part of your job.”

“It’s not. I was just doing this as a favor since you all just moved into the apartment, but that was a few months ago. You girls can figure stuff out,” as you grab your phone and head for the door.

Upset, Jennie yells, “If you’re going to be a douchebag about it all like the CEO, you’re messing around with his assistant.”

You turn around and see a grin on her face, blackmailing you. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I know that the two of you were fucking in her office the other day.”

“Lies.”

“I saw smack her ass a while back, and this time, you were leaving her office, and she was skirted and had a smile on her face.”

“If that’s true, how would you know?”

“I heard the two of you doing it.”

“No one is going to believe you.”

“Hmph, I wouldn’t be so sure. I have the CEO’s number.”

“You’re bluffing. You don’t have his number.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, holding her phone out.

“Alright, do it.”

“Okay, I will” and is about to press the call button but then says, “actually, he might be busy with important stuff. I don’t want to bother him.”

You know she doesn’t have your actual work number, so you tease her, “I don’t think he’s busy. Why don’t we go visit him and tell him the situation? I think he would be more than happy to hear about it.”

You can see her expression change, and she says, “No, I think we can just leave it like that.”

You grab her waist, “Let’s clear things up. I don’t want rumors that I’m messing with the CEO’s assistant.” You pull her hand, exit her apartment, walk towards the elevator, and press the button for the top floor.

Jennie looks nervous but tries to hide her expression. “He’s going to be upset that we’re bothering him.”

“I don’t think so, plus you’re blackmailing me.”

When you arrive at the top floor, the elevator rings, and you both exit and walk towards the hallway. You ring the doorbell, but there is no answer.

With a faint smile of relief, Jennie says, “See, he’s not here, so let me waist go.”

“Hmm… let me try something.” You press the numbers on the keypad and hear a ring, unlocking the door.

“How did you do that?”

You pull Jennie and lock the door. “Seems like no one is home. CEO-nim! Jennie and I are looking for you!”

“Stop, he’s going to be made that we’re inside his home. Let’s go.”

“No, I don’t want to; let’s have a bit of fun.” You walk towards the kitchen, open the fridge, and grab a beer. “He has some good taste, nice.”

“Leave it; he’s going to get mad!”

“No, he won’t.”

“Yes, he is. I heard that he’s mean.”

“Really? They said that?”

“Irene said that he makes them work to the bone.”

“No, I don’t. Wait until I see her tomorrow.”

Jennie’s reaction changes, and she says, “What did you say?”

“Nothing, forget about it.”

“You said something.” She stops, looks around, and walks to the living room. She sees pictures of you and freezes.

Frozen for also a minute, she turns around and says, “Are you CEO-nim?”

You want to play it off, but know that the gig is over. Instead, you smile and say, “Dang, you caught me. Surprise!”

Many things go through her mind, like how she ordered you around the apartment, teased you, and even tried to blackmail you.

“So what’s this about having my phone number and blackmailing me about fucking IU.”

Jennie gets on her knees, rubs her hands together, and begs, “I’m sorry. I was just joking around. I didn't mean it.”

“It wasn’t funny. Why did you do it?”

She bites her lip and tries to come up with a reason, saying, “I don’t know. I just wanted to tease you a bit and got jealous.”

“Jealous? What for?”

“You’re my type, and when I saw you and IU, I wanted to blackmail you so you can do whatever I say.”

“You know, that could have really gone bad and gotten someone hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

“If you’re sorry, how will you take responsibility?”

“Ehh?”

“You said I’m your type, and you’re pretty cute yourself. How about we have some fun?”

Jennie can’t believe what your words. She knows she said that you’re her type, but that was as a staff/trainer. Now that she learned you’re the one in charge of the company, she doesn’t want to do anything that might endanger her chance at debuting but, at the same time, finds it kind of hot.

“What did you have in mind?”

“What do you think?” giving her a smirk.

Jennie knows what you’re thinking; it’s not like she hasn’t thought about it herself. You come close to her and grab her small behind, causing her to yelp.

She’s being this close to her. You know that she’s small and petite, “too, like a doll.”

“What?”

Instead of replying, you pick her up, carry her to the guestroom, and toss her onto the bed.

“Wait… what are you doing?”

“I’m going to fuck you.”

“I’m not ready yet.”

“I didn’t ask you if you were. I’m telling you what I’m going to do to you.”

Jennie is stunned by your words. The image of you has been turned 360 from ordering you around to the other way around. Deep down, she can’t help but feel small and submissive by someone so huge and powerful enough to change her life.

“Okay, I understand.”

“Since you do, then strip. I want to see what I’m going to be working with.”

Jennie gets off the bed and stands in front of you. She slowly begins to undress herself, taking off her crop top and her small shots.

Now in underwear, she shyly takes off her bra, revealing her small, cute breasts. She tries to cover them, “Don’t forget the bottom.”

You smile as she hesitates to pull down her panties and whines, “Do I really have to pull them down?”

“Do you want me to do them for you? Just letting you know that I won’t be gentle.”

“I…I’ll do it then,” as she slowly pulls them down until it drops on the floor and quickly cover her cunt.

“Take your hands off.”

“But…”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Jennie removes her hands, revealing her semi-bare cunt.

“Fuck, you have a pretty-looking pussy and a nice pair of tits. Lay down on the bed and spread that pussy for me.”

Jennie feels embarrassed but does what you told her. She lays on the bed and puts her legs up. She tries to spread her legs, but the idea of spreading them open and showing her pussy to someone for the first time is nerve-wracking.

“Spread them more!”

She widens her legs until you see her whole cunt in view. With both her index and middle fingers, she slowly spreads her pussy lips, giving you a view of her unused cunt. “How’s this?”

“Hot. You’re making me hard.”

“Really? I’m making you hard?”

“Yeah. Want to see?”

Jennie has never seen a cock before in real life, only on the internet when she would masturbate while in the dorms. Seeing one in real life is making her both nervous and excited, “yeah. I want to see it.”

You undo the bottom and drop your buttons, leaving only your boxers and a large bulge in sight.

Jennie can feel her heart beating faster as you pull down your boxers, which makes your cock springs out. “Wow, it’s so big. Can I touch it?”

“Of course,” you say with a grin.

Jennie, with her index finger, touches the tip of your cock and throbs, “Haha, it’s likes me.”

“How about grabbing it with your two hands?”

“Okay, but I don’t think I’ll be able to wrap my hands around it.” With her small hands, she tries to wrap her hand, almost touching her fingertips.

Turned on, you ask, “Can I take a picture?”

Jennie looks up at you and smiles, “Sure, you’re the boss, right? I have no say.”

“Glad to see you know your place.”

You grab your phone and take a shoot of Jennie handling your cock. “Try putting it in your mouth.”

“Like this?” as she uses the tip of her tongue to lick the head of your cock. “Yes, just like that.”

You record her slowly licking your length, your shaft, pulling the head in her mouth, and even her trying to take a bit of your cock in her mouth as she plays with her cunt.

“Fuck… I knew you were a slut” you say as she has your cock in her mouth. “Hmmm… I’ll be your slut, Daddy,” giving you a devilish smile. You grab her chin in between your hands and say, “We’re going to get along very well.”

She stands and lays on the bed once more and willingly spreads her legs for you, spreading her pussy, and says, “Make sure you get a picture of this.”

“You know how to turn on a guy, huh.”

“I just want to please you, Daddy. Plus, I want everyone to know that you’re going to be my first.”

You can’t wait any longer; you need to fuck her now. You set the phone down, walked back, and spread her legs. She grabs your cock and presses it against her belly, and asks, “Is all of that going inside of me?”

“It’s going to go right in here and reach all the way up here,” as you trace your finger and her wet cunt all the way up to her belly button.

“Fuck me already, Daddy. Make me a real woman,” begs Jennie.

You grab your cock and rub your shaft against her wet lower lips, spreading them and covering them in her sticky nectar. “I’m going to put it in; just relax.” She balls up her waist against her chest, “Okay.”

Jennie nervously watches as you align your massive cock against her small entrance, waiting for you to be her first and only cock she’s ever going to taste.

You press the tip on your cock and slowly insert yourself until you reach her thin barrier, which separates her from womanhood. You look directly into her eyes, signaling that you’re going to go all the way into it. She nods back and tries to prepare herself for what’s to come.

You grab her small waist and, without mercy, put your weight onto her petite body and slam yourself into her fresh womb. “Fuck!!! I’m cumming; you’re too big; you’re making me cum!”

Jennie’s body spasms, and she tilts her head back as she feels her orgasm overwhelming her.

“Haha, you just came from me putting it in? Let’s see how many times you cum.”

You don’t let her rest and put her into a mating press. She groans from not being able to ride off her orgasm, “Daddy, wait. You’re going to make me cum again. Let me rest.”

“A girl like you doesn’t deserve to rest; you’re my sex toy. I get to use you however I want,” slamming yourself inside her once again.

Jennie cries as she feels her insides being rearranged by your cock, “Ahh, you’re messing me up inside! I won’t be able to with anyone beside you! Fuck…you’re stretching my small pussy out!”

Watching her becoming a mess is getting you more turned on. Even if it’s her first time, she’s a natural. You place your hand on her neck and firmly tighten your grip. Jennie panics when she feels your hand choking her, puts her hands around your arms, and looks at you in terror. “Shh… baby girl, calm down; I’m not going to hurt you, just something the both of us to enjoy. Trust me.”

Directly looking at you, she lets go of her hands and instead focuses on you, thrusting inside of her. “You feel so tight, Jennie; I feel like cumming already,” as you tighten the grip of your hand around her neck.

You see Jennie trying to speak, so you loosen your grip, “Ahhh… cum… cum inside me, Daddy. I… I want to feel your cum in my tummy.”

You tighten your grip on her neck again as you fuck her roughly, only hearing the sound of both your flesh against each other. Little by little, you feel your peak approaching, a cold sensation in your back.

“Fuck… I’m going to dump all my cum in your tight little pussy!”

You feel all your cum shoot deep inside Jennie’s womb with your thick cum. Her eyes roll back from how tight you’re choking her as you pump a large load. Her body starts to go limp from the lack of air, so you let go of her neck and see the imprint of your hand around it.

Immediately, Jennie gasps for air and comes back to her senses. “You’re such a good girl, Jennie. I think you’re going to be my favorite toy from now on.”

She gives you a weak smile, grabs your hand, and places it back around her neck, “Keep fucking me, Daddy. I’m your dirty like toy.”

The two of you keep fucking all night long, every time you pump your cum in and on her body. At the end, you take a series of photos and videos of your work, Jennie’s body covered in cum and her cunt oozing out a mixture of both your juices.

—————

You wake up the next day and see Jennie under your arms. You try to get up, but she’s holding on to you. Rubbing her eyes, she turned around and said, “Good morning, Daddy.”

“Good morning, Jennie. How are you feeling?”

“Sore. I can still feel some of your cummies in my tummy. I feel my pussy gaped. I don’t think I'll be able to get married anymore, haha.”

“Good. You’re mine, anyways.”

“Jealous?”

“No. I just got like sharing my toys.” You grab her by the neck with a firm grip and say, “Don’t forget that, okay? You’re mine.”

“Yes, Daddy,” as she feels your strong hand choking her.

You let her go and walk to the bathroom to freshen up. Jennie looks at her phone and sees text messages from her group mates asking if she visited her mom since she didn’t sleep at the apartment.

Jennie replies to them and immediately gets an idea that makes her smile excitedly, “Daddy.”

“Yes.”

“Since I’m your sex toy, how about making the rest of us your toys?”

“You mean your groupmates?”

“Yeah, how bout it? Sounds like fun, right?”

“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea; I’ll think about it.”

1K notes · View notes

emptyjunior · 8 months ago

Text

It looks like with the movies taking off, everyone is on the Dune train now!! Which is very exciting, I’m glad a bunch of new people are discovering this media and reading the books, but can I recommend you the David Lynch, Dune (1984) movie.

First of all, if you are invested in the lore of the books and the deeper messaging of the story, you’re going to need to turn that part of your brain Off. If you love kick ass shit and are willing to be slightly tipsy while you watch and have a great goddamn afternoon, this is the flick for you.

Now first fun fact I’m going to share with you. David Lynch (twin peaks, eraserhead director, celebrated surrealist) turned down the opportunity to direct Return of the Jedi for this film. A film that was devastatingly slow to make, changed hands multiple times, had a pricy VFX budget of $40 million and then made barely $31 million, David Lynch turned down Star Wars to work on it. And he did this when he had never read the novel, and did not even like or engage with sci fi media. THAT’S how you know we’re really in for something.

Now this film has some big names in it! We’ve got a young Kyle MacLachlan who is rocking some Devastating outfits:

We’ve got Sir Patrick Stewert as our Gurney and Sting, lead singer of the police, playing the 15 year old Feyd Rautha! If you wanted to see a grown man, sprayed orange, basically naked playing a free wheeling maniac you are in for a treat! And another fun fact, David Lynch also did not know who these actors were, he made a mistake and thought Patrick Stewert was someone else and when Sting said he was in the police he assumed he was in an organization of lawmen.

Now these characters are familiar to you, but let me get into the unfamiliar. Lynch made some directorial executive decisions throughout this film, for I suppose the ease of the viewer? I mean an adaptation is supposed to adapt so he went let me change some stuff up👏👏👏.

Those who paid attention to Jessica’s backstory may know about the Weirding Way. This is a martial arts style created by the Bene Gesserit, and practiced by Paul. It is more than just a fighting style but also an important philosophical concept, like Aikido or how Kung Fu has foundations in Buddhism.

You may also be familiar with the quote “My name is a killing word.” This inner monologue of Paul’s refers to how his title Muad’dub will be used to spur a holy war. A simple name is what people will die and bleed for, it will be what they scream as they cut down enemies.

Dark! Intense! That’s Dune, anyways in the novel it’s easy to take your time exploring these concepts. Introducing the audience to the religious ramifications of a simple name and fighting practice and how these things can have rippling repercussions upon a society like the Freman.

Now David Lynch didn’t have time for that! He had the belief (that may be right🤷‍♂️!) That watching a bunch of people kick each other on top of a sand dune would be Lame😭😭

So he made the choice for his film that “My name is a killing word” was to be taken Absolutely Literally and invented a device where if the freman said the name Muad-dib, shit would explode.

If they said Paul’s name, they could Explode Stuff. Let it sink in how rad that is. Hell yeah man, hell yeah. Imagine me interpreting religious text that way, imagine if I made a bible movie and the moral I took from a parable is that when Jesus asked for food and everyone donated fish, I concluded that Jesus was a mutant who had fish powers and could immediately conjure fish with magic and gave him fish death rays that shot out of his hands.

So that’s what you can expect from this interpretation, the weirding way now means everyone has Lasers its rad as hell.

Some other incredible choices made! This is a spoiler, but in the novels and the new films you can see the Freman collecting every scrap of water they can. Dr Liet-Kynes, the planetologist, reveals to us it’s because they have a long, multiple generation spanding plan to fix the planet. By introducing this water back they hope to reset the ecosystem over centuries of work. The reason they have been unable to do this is because a green planet would obviously not have worms and sand who produce spice, the most coveted drug in the empire, so imperial and harkonnen forces have been stopping this from ever happening. They want to be free from oppression so that they can start to work on slowly fixing their world, a project that plays out in Paul’s adult life and has its own dramas and complexities.

In Dune 1984??? The moment, the Moment Paul lays out his cousin and throws the final punch, it begins to rain in Arrakis. As if they were all under a magical curse and were just waiting for a teenager to come fight another teenager and then the water will come back. It’s so good, it’s so funny.

Also Pugs! House Atreides official Pugs! Paul has pugs in his lap!!

This is honestly an adaptation choice that I really really like! Paul is the result of centuries of selective breeding, this practice is an artform to the Bene Gesserit and a skill that they monitor closely. It produces bizarre and sometimes terrifying results and is the reason for Paul’s existence.

I think having an animal that was also created through selective breeding, was engineered from a wolf into an animal that can hardly breathe is an incredible metaphor! A smart and identifiable symbol for the audience, I think it’s a slam dunk and the new movies should have done it to.

Anyways can not recommend this film enough.

-The body suits the bad guys wear are made out of real body bags, that actually had been used.

-David Lynch to this day hates it.

-The original cut was four hours.

-The cast and crew were sick the Entire shoot with something they called Montezuma's Revenge, which was probably just food poisoning, side effects from the constant smog because they shot the whole thing on backup generators, illness from the cockroach infestation and terrible morale.

-Frank Herbert saw it multiple times and said he absolutely loved it.

-When they ride the worms, sick rock jams play.

If you love electric guitar, lasers, worms and will forgive me for not including all the trigger warnings cause Yes this film will gross you out, then go watch this movie.

#dune #paul atreides #lady Jessica #dune movie #dune Frank herbert #dune 1984 #movies #scifi #kyle maclachlan #david Lynch #films

725 notes · View notes

totaly-obsessed · 6 months ago

Text

Goals and Glitter

Alexia Putellas x reader

-> Alexia comes in to teach a class for Alba and her co-worker

-> Happy early birthday to @wosoamazing!

-> Word Count: 3.100

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Alba have you seen my - Oh.”

Stunned Alexia stood still in her sister's living room. She had just given herself entry to Alba’s house, trying to find one of her favorite dresses that she couldn’t find since the last time that her sister had visited her.

But she hadn’t exactly expected her sister to have someone over. This wasn’t the first time that the footballer had barged in on Alba’s situation-ships, but this looked quite different than she was used to.

Papers were scattered all around the room, and she had nearly stepped into an open glue stick that was just left on the ground. Alba was sitting on the floor, as close to the coffee table as humanly possible, covered in glitter and paper scraps.

But she wasn’t alone. Next to her, just as messy as her sister were you. Eyes wide in surprise at the blonde who had just loudly made an entrance to the room that had previously been filled with excited chatter, just the music was playing in the background.

“Hello.”

Alba couldn’t help but laugh at her sister, who had always been awkward when she was confronted with unusual or unsuspected situations.

“Hi.”-

Dear God, You weren’t any better either.

The soft music kept playing in the background until Alba couldn’t take it any longer. “Alexia, this is y/n, the teacher I am sharing my class with this year, you know the one I already told you about? y/n, this is Alexia, my older sister, she’s a weirdo who doesn’t respect my privacy. Or closed doors.”

The room plunged into awkward silence while Alexia and you stared at each other, Alba taking a figurative step back, watching the two of you, like it was a tennis match, even though nothing was happening.

“Do - Do you want to join us? We’re trying to make the next PE lessons for the kids.” The blonde still just stood there, frozen in the door as you looked at her, a hopeful glint in your eyes.

“It’s football.”

Well if you would have said that first, the footballer would have already said yes yesterday, but it had been Alba, who knew how to get her sister back to earth. “We’re trying to explain the rules to the kids.” As if to underline your co-workers, and friends, statements, you held up a hot-pink flashcard, with ‘Goal kick’ in fancy letters at the top and a definition beneath that.

“A type of restart where the ball is kicked from inside the goal area; awarded to the defending team when a ball that crossed the goal line was last touched by a player on the attacking team.”

The midfielder's eyebrows went up with hesitation. “You’re gonna use that, to explain to seven-year-olds?”

Alba’s head snapped up, ready to pounce on the opportunity. “Well we’re not the pros, you are! So what do you think? Could re-work the cards and come into class to teach the kids first hand!”

The footballer seemed to consider, eyebrows still furrowed as she looked at one of the other flashcards. “Well you could use some help, that’s for sure.”

“Great! You have time tomorrow, and so does y/n. Same time, at your place!” Alba didn’t give her sister time to protest, instead stacking all her already-made cards together before shoving them into Alexia's hands.

“I’ll send you her number, we need to go now!” And with that the young teacher pulled you up by your hand, dragging you out of the door, leaving Alexia behind, who was still frozen in place, now all alone in a house that wasn’t hers.

Why was she here again?

—

The following day Alexia was pacing in her living room, a simple rule book on her coffee table, anxiously waiting for you to arrive. Alba had indeed given her your number, leaving it up to the blonde to contact you. And she did, with a timid “Hey, it’s Alexia! Here’s my address, does the time still work for you?”

Your much more cheerful response had been very much welcomed by the footballer, who for some reason, unbeknownst to her, couldn’t stop smiling at a silly picture of you and Alba that you had set as your profile picture.

While she had been waiting for you to come, the actual sound of the doorbell startled her to no end, before hurrying towards it, hearing Narla bark quietly, somewhere else in her house.

“Hi Ale!”

A shy smile was on the midfielders as she opened the door further, gesturing for you to come in. While she was closing the door, you had already taken off your shoes, placing them neatly on the ground.

“Oh you could have just kept them on, no need to have cold -” Just at that moment you pulled out a pair of fluffy slippers out of your massive handbag and put them on, “-feet.”

“My Mama would kill me if she knew I was wearing shoes in such a lovely house Ale.”

The blonde could hear her own mother scolding her for entering her childhood home with dirty sneakers over and over again. But Alexia had always been in a hurry, even as a child. Scarfing down dinner so that she could go out and play football with her friends, not even changing her clothes. “You brought slippers.”

“Mhmm, I did! I always have them on me, never know when your feet start hurting.”

And in that moment Alexia knew that Eli would love you.

The Spaniard leads you through a gorgeous hallway into an even prettier living room. It was light and warm. It felt familiar and in many places, you could see a little bit of your best friend Alba shine through. She definitely chose that pink fluffy blanket for when she came over, and the amount of pictures on the walls truly showed how much Alexia loved her family and friends, sometimes she wasn’t even in them.

“Don’t be mad, but I got rid of your flashcards.” She looked at you in anticipation, after all, she had gotten rid of your and Alba’s work, and she knew how her sister would react if she had been here. “Oh, no worries! You know the game best at the end of the day!”

Well, that had gone over much better than expected.

“Would you like a coffee?”

“That would be lovely Ale, thank you so much!”

In the kitchen, she could take a couple of deep breaths. Why was she so nervous? The only thing she’s supposed to do is help you with your class, help them learn about football - her life. But now with you sitting there on her couch, the prettiest smile and pink fluffy slippers she could feel herself melting like vapor in the sun.

“Oh hello!”

Your voice was an entire octave higher than before, as you greeted someone. Shit, she forgot about Nala. A tray of coffee, milk, and sugar was thrown together as quickly as the blonde could before she hurried back to the living room, fearing how her small, but feisty dog was attacking you.

“You’re such a good girl!”

Much to Alexia’s surprise Nala was on the couch, laying in your lap, letting you pet her stomach. The dog was writhing back and forth with happy little yips, looking at you offended once you stopped, nudging your hand with her nose so that you would continue.

“Oh, sorry! Is she not allowed on the couch?”

Alexia was still standing there, tray in hand and had not moved an inch. Seems to be a common theme once you are around. What was up with her? You’re just meeting so she can tell you about football. No other reason.

“No! Uhmm, Nala’s fine, don’t worry. She just doesn’t like new people. Well, usually.”

With a shrug, you gestured for her to sit down, as she was still standing there. The sun hit her back perfectly, bathing her in a glowy afternoon sun. She was the most stunning person you had ever seen, an incredible physique with an even better smile, and an awkward personality upon first meeting, that you just had to love.

There wasn’t much planning done, the blonde reassuring you that she would take care of it after deciding on a date, where (coincidentally of course) Alba wasn’t there. Most of the time together was spent drinking coffee and chatting about the most random things like Alexia’s dog lead collection and your incredibly large caffeine consumption. The blonde didn’t want to agree, that it was very on-brand for a teacher to drink a lot of coffee and energy drinks, insisting that it was very unhealthy and her coaches and trainers would have her head. Alexia loved watching you laugh, saying the weirdest things that she knew would make you laugh, talking a lot about Alba and Nala, hoping that you would never stop.

“I think I should get going now, it’s already getting dark. Thank you so much for having me Ale, and I will see you on Friday! Let me know if something comes up?” Alexia was adamant that there was nothing in this world that could make her forget, or come in between their agreed on date.

—

You had warmed your students up to Alexia coming, reminding them again and again to be calm not yell too much, and to listen to your guest. So when Friday arrived the kids knew what was coming. You had cleared the rest of the day, pushing the lessons back and cutting out what wasn’t needed just so your new ‘friend’ would be in no time rush.

When there was a timid knock at the door the kids straightened up in their seats, excited to meet the woman that you had been talking so much about and to finally see her in person. After introducing the idea of Alexia coming into your students, a few girls squealed in excitement - telling you all about how big fans they were, and that they watched her play on TV.

“¡Hola clase!”

The footballer was met with a silent classroom as came in, but she could see the jitters and bouncing legs of the students as they looked at her with wide-open eyes.

"What did we practice yesterday, class?” the students jumped up from their seats, standing in the walkways “¡Buenos días Alexia!”. Well, that wasn’t what you had practiced. The older teachers make the students stand behind their chairs and greet them in a choir, it seems like their brains defaulted back to what they know instead of just staying seated like they usually do in your and Alba’s classes.

“Good job you guys! Right, so let’s all grab our gym bags and then we’ll make our way to the gym. Remember to find your buddy in two rows please!”

Alexia was stunned, watching you talk to twenty kids like it was nothing, floating back and forth, making sure all kids were accounted for and had their change of clothes.

“¡Hola Ale! Thank you so much for coming, the Kids are so excited!” And so were you. Not that you would ever say it but you had called Alba in a hurry, asking her what to wear and what to bring for food, insisting on bringing something for her sister

The younger Putellas was greatly amused, telling their mother all about the mutual forming crushes between you and her sister. You had met Eli at a summer festivity last year, where you and Alba had decided to take on a class together, and it was safe to say that the women loved you. Just like her daughters, she had been enamored with your smile and friendly personality. Hearing that Alexia had taken a liking to you, filled her with joy. A perfect fit.

“Thank you for having me, I am also really excited to meet them!” Those kids meant the world to you, and she could see it. Your hand was clutching her forearm before shoving a lunchbox into her bag. “Would you mind walking in the back? So that no one gets lost? I still get a bit anxious about making the trip.”

The footballer was much more on the calmer side, watching as you counted the kids again and again. “Don’t worry, no one will get lost on our watch, we’ve got this. Hmm?” With a gentle squeeze of your hand, she let go, making her way to the back of the line, immediately helping one of the shorter girls to put on her jacket.

Ben, a very anxious little guy, was already at the front of the line waiting to hold your hand like he usually did when the class left the room. “Let’s go then!”

You led the kids to the changing rooms before taking Alexia to one of the teacher's rooms. “Uhm, you can change here if you want to. I’ll look for another one!” Before you can close the door a warm hand closes around your wrist. “We can both change here if that’s alright with you. It's a big room.”

Alexia could see your nervousness as you turned around. “I won’t look, promise.” With a deep sigh, you decided to give in. Finding another unoccupied room would take too long and it was a part of the job, right? She probably changed in front of 10 people daily. But you were not a footballer that worked out three times a day.

There was a smug smile on Alexia’s face after she caught you staring at her abs in the mirror. “Hard work and dedication.” You could feel the heat shoot into your face as you looked away ashamed. She looked good and she knew it. The blonde was quite happy that you didn’t catch her staring at you. After all, she had a persona to fulfill. “Come on, let’s go!”

Even though she didn’t know where she was going, Alexia led you out of the room in the direction of shouting children. “Is it a possibility to go outside with the kids?” Sure she could do the exercises indoors, but most football was played outdoors and the weather was ideal for it. “Yeah, we have a small pitch just behind the gym.”

The kids were happy to hear you would go out, running in front of Alexia and you, who hand back to chat, in no need to hurry. But Ben was now glued to Alexia's hand, which felt very different in comparison to yours.

“Are you married to our teacher Miss Alexia?”

His endearing little voice sliced through the comfortable silence that took over after talking about your guy's plan. Ale couldn’t help but laugh at his innocent question and the way you seemed to find the floor incredibly interesting. “No, I’m not!”

The little boy let go of his new hero's hand and started running to his classmates, “That’s really sad!”, and then he was off.

“Well, he is certainly a character.” The blonde's arm brushed against yours, sending tingles all through your body. “Usually he’s quite shy. Sorry, I didn’t think he’d say that.” The smile was back on Alexia's face, “Oh don’t you worry.” Your head whipped up, questioning her statement as she continued to look ahead with a perfect poker face.

On the field, which admittedly could have been mowed before going there, the kids sat down, not caring that their clothes got dirty as Alexia stood in front of them, a book in her hands

“Hello everyone! I’m Alexia, and your teacher Miss Putellas, is my little sister! I am here today to teach you guys a little about football, my favorite sport of all time. Does anyone else like football here?” Seeing little girls jump up, with arms in the air shouting “Me! Me!” warmed the blonde's heart.

How far the women’s game has come.

The next hour was filled with kids laughing as Alexia pushed them back and forth while explaining set pieces and general rules of the game, while you sat to the side, giving her a ball if she needed one.

An unexpected arm makes its way around your shoulders before a warm breath hits your ear “How’s it going?”

It was Alba, who had now sat down next to you, a cheeky smile on her face, that didn’t look that far off from her sister’s smug one. “What are you doing here?”

“Well I couldn’t just leave you two love birds alone here, could I?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. And you weren’t staring at her ass.”

“You’re delusional.”

Hearing her sister's loud laugh made Alexia turn her head at an impressive speed, catching her pinching your cheek in teasing. Quickly she told the kids what to practice before jogging over to you and Alba. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, dear sister! This is my class as well if you haven’t forgotten?”

Of course, she hadn’t. Really. How could she ever forget about her sister?

“I thought you didn’t have the class today?”

Alba couldn’t help but laugh at her sister's annoyed face. Her plan had worked, she had officially crashed whatever this was. “I didn't. But I can’t miss out on seeing you in my workspace, can I?” Her sister grunted, annoyed that she couldn’t have the day to herself. And the kids of course.

The rest of the day was spent with Alexia teaching the kids, managing incredibly well for someone who doesn’t usually work with 22 kids under the age of 10. Meanwhile, Alba made good use of her time by teasing you left, right, and center, not missing a chance to make fun of your obvious attraction to her sister, while you tried to help the footballer with moving cones or explaining something again.

The kids were much quieter on the way back, Ale had tired them out quite well, but Ben still wouldn’t leave Alexia’s side.

“Miss Alexia?”

“Yes, Ben?”

“Evie said that people date before they get married. So are you and Miss y/n dating?”

And there it was again, that nagging heat in your cheeks as Alexia looked up from your student, into your eyes. “I don’t know Ben, let me ask your teacher.”

Alba was trying not to scream while walking a couple of paces in front of you, pushing kids back into line when they wandered off, many of them trying to get back to her sister as they were now very interested in the blond woman.

“Would you like to go out on a date with me?”

“I would love to go on a date with you Alexia.”

A squeal left young Ben’s mouth before he let go of your new date’s hand, sprinting back to his friends and grabbing Alba’s hand.

“I did it, Miss Putellas! They’re gonna get married!”

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso community #alexias putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #barça femeni #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni

895 notes · View notes

sunnie-angel · 22 days ago

Text

A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Part 1: Unexpected Faces in Familiar Places

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: jay makes a new friend, now if only she could be something more... tags: sexual harrassment, threats of violence, idiots in love, flirting, swearing, sexual tension, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 4.7k a/n: enjoy! i've been having a really shitty week (even before the election) so i scrapped my original intention to only post once it was fully written and decided to just share this with you all

Jay Todd has the shittiest day to cap off the shittiest week in what feels like forever. Her ribs ache from a hit on Monday that’s still not fully right and she spent most of the day chasing down one of her accountants that had the sheer fucking nerve to try and steal from under her nose. Her knuckles are bloody, she’s on the verge of a stress headache, and all she wants is to drink her goddamn drink in peace. Apparently that’s too much to ask for because she gets a call from Cala down at one of her bars about out of towners harassing the guests and now that just won’t do at all.

Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in. Zeroes in on the two chucklefucks have that cornered a poor girl sitting at the bar. Notes the way she’s hunched over and pulling down the hem of her skirt to hide her skin from lecherous eyes. Cala buzzes around the scene trying to divert their attention away from poor little miss unlucky but it doesn’t work.

“–m not alone,” Jay hears you say as she strides towards the bar. “I’m waiting on a friend.”

“That so,” the taller of the two men leer. “Well she can just join us too. Plenty of room for more.” The shorter man makes a crude gesture at his crotch and Jay sees red.

“There you are!” She calls out, shoulders past the men without even acknowledging their presence. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was a real bitch. Did you already order our drinks yet?” You look up at Jay with gratitude and something suspiciously like tears shining in your eyes. Fuck. You’re pretty.

“No I– I didn’t know if you were planning on driving so I just waited,” you play along.

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before.

“You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored. The man’s face starts to go a horrible shade of red that clashes terribly with his hair.

“So you think you can just butt into a private conversation, bitch?” He snarls, spittle flying.

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks.

“I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

He opens his mouth to respond, vein pulsing in his forehead but the cock of a shotgun stops him. Cala, blessed Cala, had finally had the distraction she needed to grab the shot gun from under the bar and she is using it to maximum effect.

“Out!” She thunders, waving the shotgun in the men’s faces. “Out and don’t you ever come back. This is one of the Hood’s bars, we’re under her protection and there’s gonna be hell to pay for this.”

Enraged the larger one goes to yell back but the shorter one grabs at his shoulder. Whispers at him to look around at all the hostile faces, the other regulars getting to their feet and cracking their knuckles. Tails between their legs the two nuisances scamper out.

Jay nods at Cala and she calls out “Next round’s on the house!” to the cheers of the room.

Job taken care of, Jay goes to leave when a hand around her wrist, just catching her under the hem of her jacket, freezes her in place.

“Wait!” you call. She turns to look at you properly, the wobble of your lip and the shortness of your skirt from where you’re no longer tugging it down. “Please? I just– I’m worried they’ll be waiting outside for me. I was supposed to meet a date here but they bailed on me and now I have to wait for the next bus to come. Would you stay with me for a bit? Please? I’ll– I’ll buy you a drink for the inconvenience.” And well, Jay always was a sucker for a damsel in distress.

“Sure,” she says, slinging herself lazily back into the bar chair. “It’s no inconvenience but I’ll take that drink. Whoever he is, he’s gotta be mad for standing a pretty girl like you up.”

“Oh um,” you fluster at her words. “Thanks?”

Cala sets down Jay’s usual order for when she’s driving in front of her and refills your drink. Waves off your fumbling with your wallet with a “It’s on the house, chérie. Our apology for the bad night. Besides,” she nods at Jay “the Boss Lady would not let you pay if you tried.”

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds.

“You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing. “Just needed a little help, that’s all. Now my name’s Jay and I own this little establishment. Why don’t you tell me a little something about yourself too?”

You stutter and start through your own self-introduction, mascara long eyelashes fluttering at all the attention. Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Getting you to talk about yourself seems to work though, familiar territory slowly evening you out. You’re surprisingly witty when you’re not flustered, someone fun to have a conversation over beer with. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

A stray notification catches your attention, interrupts your story about how this bar wasn’t even in your bottom five. You roll your eyes at the sender name.

“Jerry,” you answer Jay’s inquisitive look. “Apologizing for standing me up, for all the good that’ll do.” With a flourish you tap at your screen, smile and say “Blocked.”

Jay can feel the corners of her eyes crinkle up in return, simple joy and approval for you cutting the trash out of your life. Not that she’s really entitled to an opinion on it. Your smile lasts a half second longer before suddenly descending into panicking, fumbling out your phone and chanting no no no under your breath.

“I missed the last bus,” you breathe out, eyes wide. Jay’s brain stutters at that, there’s no way you’ve been talking together for four hours. Cala catches her eye and jerks her head up at the big clock hanging over the bar. Fuck. It really has been four hours.

Jay knocks back the last of her beer and stands, extends a hand out to you to help you hop off the bar stool that’s just the wrong side of too tall. Even in your heels Jay’s still got quite a few inches on you.

“C’mon,” she says. “It’s my fault you were out so late, I’ll give you a ride home.”

She leads you outside to where her bike is parked, your palm still in hers.

“I don’t have an extra helmet so you just take mine okay?” She says, putting it on you.

“We’re– we’re going on that?” you squeak out, surprise rendering you docile.

“Yep,” she answers, already straddling the bike, thighs flexing. “Hop on and hold on tight.”

Jay more feels than hears your scream as she revs the engine and takes off, corners maybe just a little too fast to be anything other than showing off. Too soon she pulls up at your front door and already she mourns the feeling of your arms wrapped around her middle. She gives you a hand to help you off the bike again and nearly buckles at the brief glimpse of the black unlined lace panties she sees under your skirt as you swing your leg over the bike. The two of you stand there facing each other, moment stretching out until a car backfires a few blocks over.

“Well, I guess I should get going, “ Jay tells you reluctantly.

“I’ve got work in the morning,” you respond, still not moving. “Wait! D’you want my number or something so we can do this again? Not the first bit obviously, but maybe drinks? Maybe coffee next time?”

And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway. Grinning, you see her off into the night, taillights dissolving into darkness.

Jay calls first, asks about coffee with too much casualness in her voice. Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers. Bitches with you about assholes at work – not that she gives you the full story – and bemoaning the state of customer affairs. Makes you dinner at her apartment and makes a spot for herself on your couch. Worms her way into every corner of your life without regret because you’d tell her if her presence was unwanted. Right?

Leave it to Jay to come back from the dead and still fall in love with a straight girl. Dick teases her about how far she’s willing to bend over backwards for ‘just a friend’ and Jay has to show her teeth and snap back that at least she has some. Has to cover up for the fact that her sanity is hanging by a goddamn thread thinner than that single string that had tied the open sides of your top together that one afternoon, revealing bare skin and the hint of a breast if you leaned just right. The way she almost walked into a wall when she realized you weren’t wearing a bra the first time she came over to your place. How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

A gala invitation has Jay wishing she could shoot lasers with her eyes and incinerate it. Her eye twitches with annoyance and you snatch it up out of her hands before she can stop you.

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

“A stupid one,” she answers, not really paying attention.

“But you’ll have to get all dressed up for it! Please, please can I come over and watch you get ready? You never get dressed up,” you pout.

Even with your whining and pouting, Jay can’t help but think she’d still have a better time at the gala with you by her side to distract her from pointed glances and whispers. She sighs. Wait.

“There’s a plus one on that invite,” she tells you nonchalantly, studying your face in her peripheral vision. “You could come if you want, get all dressed up too.”

You stiffen at the question. “You really mean it?” you whisper, hardly daring to breathe.

“Course, but only if you want to,” she offers. You squeal, clutch the envelope to your chest and tackle her.

“It’s short so I’ll probably have to rent a dress and oooh I need to think about makeup, maybe a bold lip? Oh! And I can have another excuse to wear the Jimmy Choos...” you babble in her arms.

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.”

“Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress. You prance around the room pulling down dishes for dinner and Jay sighs, melts back into the couch cushions as she listens to you chatter a mile a minute about how excited you are.

Jay’s really, really regretting her impulsivity by the time the gala rolls around a few days later. In all her excitement about not going alone for once, she’d forgotten that this meant she’d be going with you. With you, all dolled up and mouth-wateringly gorgeous.

You knock at her door earlier than she’d expected from you when a fancy event is involved and has to do her very best not to drop her jaw on the floor. Gorgeous green silk pools around your breasts in a daring cowl neck, the fabric clinging to your curves, draped to exaggerate them. Skims the plush sides of your hips before falling straight to the floor, a daring slit revealing the warm bare skin of your leg ending in those heaven sent Jimmy Choos. Jay stares, knows she stares for a beat too long but there is quite literally no force on earth that could tear her away. You start to squirm under her attention, still standing half in her doorway.

“That bad, is it?” You laugh self consciously, start to cover your cleavage with your hands. “I knew it was too much.”

“No, no it’s just enough,” she rasps, standing back to let you in. You brush past her so close she can smell your perfume, can tell you’d broken out your special occasions scent in the nice glass bottle. “I just need to fix my tie and do my hair and then we can go.”

“Do you need the tie?” You hum, stepping into her space. Grabbing a hold of one of the loose ends, you tug it out from where it’s tucked under her collar and drape it over the couch. Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her.

Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

“Can I do your hair too?” You ask shyly.

“Don’t see why not, I was just going to do a ponytail,” Jay shrugs. Delighted you push her down onto the couch and start pulling bobby pins out of your purse. “Wait did you plan this?” She asks.

“A girl should always be prepared for the best outcome,” you tell her primly as you stand behind her and finger comb her riotous hair.

Quickly you separate out a deep side part and Jay memorizes the feeling of your hands in her hair. Hands twisting and pinning, you’re done in only a few minutes, handing her the little mirror out of your clutch to admire your work. Softly Jay touches your work, the way you’ve slicked back one side of her hair and made the waving curly mess look artistic and purposeful.

“Thank you,” she says, making eye contact with you in the mirror. She means it, means it for more than just fixing her hair but for everything else you’ve done since stumbling into her bar and her life all those months ago.

“It’s nothing,” you tell her, hands suddenly occupied with the mechanism of your purse. “We should probably get going, right?”

Jay drives the two of you to the venue in a really nice car you’ve never seen before. She waves away your questions with a tight, “My dad won’t even notice it’s missing.” She parks at the end of the red carpet and the doors haven’t even opened yet but you can already see the camera lights flashing. You look at her, suddenly nervous because you’d vastly underestimated how important this event was. She turns to you and smiles, grips your hand over the car console.

“Hey,” she says, all softness. “Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I’ll head off the vultures, you just hold onto me and enjoy the canapes, okay?”

You nod, and then suddenly she’s opening up your door, hand extended to help you out. The lights are blinding, flashing so fast the afterburn never gets any time to dissipate. Pasting on a smile you cling to Jay’s strong arm, rock solid even under all her suit layers. Paps shout and scream at you to look their way and you can barely hear them over one another.

Eventually the two of you make it through the front doors of the hotel and you gasp like you’ve been drowning. Rubbing your shoulders Jay moves to cover you, cuts off the private moment from prying eyes that seek and skitter.

“Is it always like that?” You gasp. Fighting to regain your balance.

“Unfortunately,” she says with a rueful smile. “But that’s the worst of it over, now we can really enjoy the night.” Gallantly she offers you her arm and you accept it gratefully, her elbow brushing up against the swell of your breast as you walk.

She introduces you to the night’s hosts – her family – with a whispered apology in your ear. Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure. She doesn’t know what possesses her to, but she wraps a proprietary arm around the small of your back as she steers you around the room. Helps you to crystal flutes of champagne that make your nose twitch at the carbonation and warns you off the most disgusting canapes.

Jay has just chased down the waiter carrying the mushroom and cheese quiche bites you’d fast declared your favourite when the two of you get roped into a very stilted conversation with some of the fat cats the Waynes are currently trying to drain dry, for charitable reasons of course. She’s tuned out the conversation while she piles all the best looking bites onto a plate for you, horrifically uninterested in whatever Mr. Harold J. Carson, esquire had to say about the Texan economy. She cottons on to something being wrong as your hands tense up around her arm and your laugh gets ever more brittle.

“That’s a very kind offer Mr. Carson–”

“Harold, please,” the great mustached walrus harumphs.

“–Mr. Carson,” you bravely soldier on. “But I’m here on a date and I hope you’re not implying that I’m the type of woman to two-time someone.”

He turns an ugly shade of puce and sputters at the implication, society matrons chuckling behind their glasses at his terrible blunder. Sensing an opportunity, Jay grabs you by the arm and starts leading you away.

“I do think our presence is needed by my family elsewhere,” she says, vowels Diamond District clipped. Her grip around your fingers is strong, tighter than it’s ever been as she leads you down a hallway and into an unused meeting room. Her breaths are coming heavy as she drops your arm like she’s been burned, deposits the plate on the empty table. Jay knows if she speaks now, her voice will shake and she will not have that. FUCK. Fuck, she was supposed to have this under control by now. She’s not your keeper, she’s not gonna stand between you and happiness but fuck it hurts to be used like a ticket into someone else’s bed.

“Jay,” you ask cautiously. “Are you okay? I really wasn’t going to take him up on his offer, I’m telling the truth, promise.”

“Why’d you come with me as a friend when you were already invited as someone’s fucking date?” Jay spits out, unable to contain her jealous anger and pacing to try and burn it off.

“But you invited me,” you answer her, voice trailing off in confusion.

“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.”

Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Jay has to stop pacing because wait what.

“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. “But you don’t even like women?” And it’s less a painful fact she knows now and more of a question.

“We met because my date stood me up!” you exclaim.

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.”

“Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

“Oh,” she says stupidly, suddenly forced to re-contextualize her entire life for the past few months. You dash an angry hand at your tear eyes and turn to go.

“It was my mistake,” you tell her voice thick with emotion.

And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.

“Oh sweetheart,” she croons and you shudder. “Bet you’ve been feeling like I’ve been treating your real raw lately.” She cups your face in her hand, smoothes her thumb over the high plain of your cheekbone. “Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

“We were– we were supposed to dance,” you confess, head falling back against the door.

“We can still do that,” she says, curling her fingers into your hair and pulling. She grins at your swift inhale.

“We were gonna dance an’ then, then you were gonna take me home.” You breathe out, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“Was that it baby girl?” She asks. “Playing it a little safe for your one night fantasy, weren’t you?” Jay lets go of your wrist to rest her hand on your shoulder, large hand pressing down on your collarbone.

“Was gonna kiss you goodnight,” you whimper, shivers running across your skin. Slowly, so slowly you can make out the ticking seconds hand of the big clock on the wall, Jay leans in and carefully slots her mouth down over yours. Sucks gently on your bottom lip before releasing it with a sigh.

“Like that?” Jay asks. “You were just hoping for a sweet little kiss on the mouth?” Her own breathing is ragged.

“No–o,” you gasp. “Was hoping– was hoping you’d kiss a little lower too.”

Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced.

“These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

“They’re my– my lucky date underwear,” you gasp into the air.

“And you were hoping to get lucky tonight, weren’t you baby girl?” She coos up at you.

Biting your lip, you nod. Jay sets about tearing your underwear to pieces with her teeth. Your thighs tremble around her ears and she slams your hips back down against the door. Spreads your lips open with calloused fingers, presses a light kiss to your clit in greeting before she starts making out with your pussy. You howl and sag, trusting her to take the full weight of you as your knees turn to jelly.

Jay eats you out with enthusiasm and she eats you out with experience. Does this thing with the slick thrusting muscle of her tongue that has you gasping and begging for more. Can feel the heel of your shoe digging into her back, urging her own, begging her to fuck you harder. Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

Sucks your clit, hard, just a hint of teeth as she spears you open on a thick finger. Twists and curls it against your slick wet walls, lets herself affectionately get acquainted with your cunt. Scissors you open with two fingers just to watch your head bang back against the door, eyes shut and tears streaming down your face. Sets an uneven rhythm with her fingers and tongue that has you moaning and trying to ride her face for more. Finger fucks you with wet, squelching vigour as you quiver and shake, walls tightening up as you careen towards climax. Starts putting pressure on your rim with a third finger just to tip you over the edge of it all, pleasure making you stupid. Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

Gently, she takes your trembling thigh off her shoulder and places it back onto the ground. Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

“Hoping for a little something like that, honey?” She teases.

Vigorously you nod, head bouncing back and forth like a bobblehead, words still fucked out of your brain. She holds out a hand to you – not the one that’s just been buried knuckle deep inside you – and clasps your hand in her own.

“C’mon, let’s go home then,” she tells you airily, leading you back through the maze of the building.

“But what about the party?” you ask, mascara still smeared around your eyes.

“I don’t care,” Jay bites out. “I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.”

“Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

“Good,” Jay smirks. “Because it wasn’t a question.”

series masterlist | part 2

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #fem!jason todd #fem!jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #sunnie writes 🌻#a fever you can't sweat out series

265 notes · View notes

foreingersgod · 7 months ago

Note

Can you write kate Martin x reader that she’s completely whipped by but they get into an argument and Kate says something she didn’t mean?

Wedding Planning . KM

pairing: kate martin x reader

synopsis: kate says something she doesn’t mean and it puts your relationship at risk.

A/N: guys i think this is my favorite kate fic so far

my masterlist

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

it had felt like you’ve known kate for a lifetime, having been together for 5 years. so naturally, when she proposed to you on your anniversary, you could hardly contain your excitement. there were tears, kissing and laughing (and the best engagement sex ever). it was the absolute best night of your life.

since you were a little girl you had dreamed of your wedding. you were obsessed with wedding dresses and falling in love, constantly imaging what your life was going to look like. when you’d play outside you’d make wedding bouquets out of wild flowers, or when you would draw portraits they’d always depict you walking down the isle. now that you were grown and engaged to the love of your life, you couldn’t wait to get started on planning the wedding.

kate, although she was equally ecstatic to get married, wasn’t as keen on wedding planning. she was more laid back with decisions and didn’t have any particular opinions on how she wanted it to look. ‘just as long as you’re happy, babe’ she would say. you didn’t mind all that much, in fact it made your life easier. you had full reign to make your wedding exactly how you had pictured it.

on the downside, it felt like you were doing this all alone when you really wished it was something you two could do together. you just wanted to sit down, after kate came home from practice and you from work, and look through different flowers and centerpieces. you wanted to do cake testings and pick out color schemes. but kate’s answer was always the same when you asked: ‘whatever you like, i like’.

you knew that possibly couldn’t be true. kate was an open book and you knew literally everything about her. there had to be at least one cake flavor she despised or one flower she didn’t like, there’s no way she was fine with anything. sometimes you felt irritated that there weren’t any disagreements about the wedding, she accepted any ideas you threw her way and it really bothered you. planning a wedding, throwing a party in honor of your love for one another, should be about what both of you want.

it had already been months since your engagement and the wedding was rolling around quicker than expected. within days, you became stressed and overwhelmed. there were still so many decisions to make, so many people to call, so many things that still needed to be made perfect. these past few weeks have been incredibly hectic, and to no surprise, you felt isolated and alone. perhaps it was just typical bridal anxiety, or maybe it was the fact that your fiancé wanted nothing to do with helping prepare for your big day.

one late night, around 12 am, you sat on the floor of your shared living room. you had came home late from a night shift at work, waiting up for kate to come home from a night out with the team. with the wedding being so close you decided to spend the extra time tying loose ends and checking things off your to do list. you always waited for kate when she was out late, it was near impossible to sleep without her, so you didn’t mind.

there were folders and binders spread on the coffee table in front of you. little scraps of color samples and inspiration pictures took up every square inch, various phone numbers and addresses also scattered every which way. to any outsider, it’d seem like chaos, but you enjoyed the sweet moments of wedding planning.

not long after you organized the floral section of your wedding binder, you heard the lock of the front door click open. it was followed by the creak of the hinges and heavy footsteps. you looked over from your spot on the ground, seeing kate drop her bag at the door and kick her shoes off. she was tired, you could tell, but still buzzing from hanging out with her teammates.

“hey, baby! you’re home!” you smiled as she approached you. she leant down to press a chaste kiss to your lips before setting down on the couch that you sat against.

“hey,” she was slightly out of breath. she was leaning over your shoulder now, eyeing the mess on the table “wedding stuff? this late?”

“yeah, i wanted to keep myself busy while i waited for you”

“gotcha” with a monotone response, she was already dismissing you and pulling out her phone. she didn’t ask about what you were arranging or what folder you were working on, but instead she was checking instagram?

it made your blood boil slightly, the way that she was completely clueless to anything wedding related.

“want to help me?” you asked, looking back at her “if you’re gonna be up for a little longer, i’d like the help”

“you know me, babe. i’m really not good with that, you’ve got the eye for all of it” she didn’t even bother to make eye contact with you.

“really?” you choked back a scoff, torn between wanting to be mad and confront her or letting the matter roll over.

“what do you mean ‘really’?” now she was paying attention, typical.

“don’t worry about it, let’s just go to to bed” you pushed yourself off the floor, putting on your slippers and heading for the stairs. before you could move, however, kate had grabbed your wrist gently to keep you in place.

“well i am worried,” her face contorted to any angry frown “why are you mad all of the sudden?”

“because kate, you’re pissing me off”

“what the hell did i do?”

you wanted to scream, the emotion starting to build up inside of you. for months you had been annoyed with how she left all the wedding stuff for you to do. how she didn’t even want to be involved in this made you feel like you weren’t doing this wedding to proclaim your love, that you were really just doing it for yourself.

it wasn’t your intention to pick this fight tonight, but oh god did you just want to get it all off your chest.

“i’m pissed because you don’t even want to help with this wedding, kate! you can’t even sit down with me for 5 minutes and help me organize a fucking folder”

“that’s not true i-”

“no it is!” you didn’t even want to hear the bullshit that was bout to spew from her mouth. she remained on the couch, jaw clenched in anger as you cut her off “every time i ask you to do something, you blow me off and leave me to do it by myself! you have no interest in doing any of it with me”

“babe, i’m just not good at that stuff. i thought you wanted to plan this?” she was chewing at the inside of her cheeks now, you could tell she was trying to avoid this conversation.

“with you! i want to plan this with you! but for some reason you want no part in it! i have asked time and time again for a little help in hopes that you’d become interested in it. because in all honesty, kate, i don’t even care about the wedding being perfect. i just want to do it with you! i want you to care and to go to run wedding errands with me, i want you to want to do it with me, but you don’t even give a shit!”

her face started to turn red with annoyance, eyes pressed shut. her large hands covered her face as the ran down her cheeks. she was practically huffing as she sat there listening to you completely hound her for her disinterest.

“you haven’t even asked me about what flowers i decided to go with or shown any fucking interest in my god damn dress. my dress, kate, the part that i’m most excited for. you don’t even care about that and it hurts. and you dont ev-”

“jesus, i don’t care about the fucking wedding, YN!”

she could have just punched you right in the face, it probably would have hurt less than hearing her say that. your heart dropped, noticing how she was seething in rage. jaw still clenched, hands tugging at the roots of her hair, trying to calm herself down.

your eyes welled with tears, body frozen as you tried to process what just happened. she she really not care at all? it didn’t take long for the tears to start spilling, running down your cheeks in heavy cascades. a sob struck your body, you tired to bite your lip to hold it back but it was no use.

“great,” you muttered. she finally looked up at, body softening when she realized what she said “glad i know how you feel”

“baby…” she stood up abruptly, trying to come over to you.

“save it, it’s clear that you don’t care about the wedding” more sobs took over you, it killed kate to see you like this. she was kicking herself internally for even thinking that. why did she say that?

“if it’s really that big of a deal” you stepped back when kate tried to reach for you hand to apologize “then let’s just call the whole thing off”

“YN, no” she begged, tears of her own building up “baby come on, i didn’t mean it, don’t say that”

“why not? i mean you don’t have any interest in it. like at all, not even enough to spend time with me to do it. so let’s just call it”

“i don’t want to call it off” her lips contorted to a frown “i wouldn’t have proposed if i didn’t want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you. honey please, i don’t want to call it off”

“you’re not acting like it” is all you could say, you were truly speechless at this point. “why scream at me that you ‘don’t care about the wedding’ when i’m trying to express my feelings to you if you don’t want to call it off”

“because i’m a fucking idiot” her voice wobbled as she began to cry. the pattern of her tears mimicking yours “i don’t know why i said that, it’s not true even in the slightest. i’ve just been so stressed with everything recently and stuff with the wedding has just been so overwhelming, but at the end of the day i just want to marry you, baby. that’s no excuse, i’ll admit that i haven’t been a very good fiancé”

“no you haven’t” you crossed your arms, wiping away some of your tears “i know things are stressful…and i get that, but you don’t even seem interested. like you don’t want to do this with me”

“i do,” another wave of sadness washes over her “i think i’m just scared. things are happening so quick and change makes me nervous…our life is so perfect and i’m worried that i’m gonna fuck it up somehow. whether it’s planning the wedding or being a shitty wife, i feel like im going to fail”

“kate…” you swallowed deeply. it sent another pang to your heart knowing that this is how she felt all along “is that really how you feel? like you’re going to fail?”

she nodded, sniffling as she looked down at her feet in embarrassment. you ran over to her in an instant to pull her into your arms. she collapsed into your body, arms wrapping around your waist, chin sitting atop your shoulder as she cried to you. your hands rubbed her back smoothly, letting her get all of it out.

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry that i’ve been so shitty” you could feel your shirt dampen with teardrops “you don’t deserve any of this. i can’t believe i said i don’t care, i never meant it, i swear”

“hey hey hey,” your hand now finding the back of her head, running your fingers through her hair “it’s going to be ok, i get it, we can work past that. but the last thing i want is for you to feel like you’re going to be a shitty wife. baby, i don’t think you could be a bad wife even if you tried”

“you’re just saying that”

“i’m not! i mean it! you’re the love of my life and i think you’re perfect inside and out. i wouldn’t have said yes if i didn’t accept every part of you. we’ll have ups and downs like everyone does, but that doesn’t mean i don’t still love you and it certainly doesn’t make you a shitty wife”

she released you from the hug when you took ahold of her shoulders. you ran your palms up and down her biceps before moving to her face, fingers grazing her cheekbones.

“it’s going to be ok, alright?” you cracked a smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead as you got up on your tip toes.

“i’m sorry, i love you so much” she pulled you in for a real kiss, this time, lips coming into contact with yours.

“i love you too”

after that night, kate made it her mission to change. she started helping out more, like you had asked, but she was also doing things on her own. kate picked out her suit, called the wedding photographer, and a handful of other things on your list. it was clear to you now that she just needed reassurance. it was going to take sometime to recover from what she had said to you, but you knew none of it was true and it was something you could work past.

you just wanted to marry your girl.

and marry her, you did.

#wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb #kate martin #kate martin x reader #kate martin x you #kate martin x yn #kate martin x y/n #kate martin imagine #kate martin oneshot #kate martin and reader #wlw #lesbian #foreingersgod

571 notes · View notes

rush-the-stars · 7 months ago

Text

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART I

━─━────༺༻────━─━

|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.5k || ao3 || Part II -> coming soon! || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

━─━────༺༻────━─━

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

✧ SPRING FEVER collab masterlist ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader if you squint, biting, blood, marking, eventual forced bathing in later parts, eventual forced feeding in later parts, eventual smut in later parts; masturbation, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: this is for @lorelune 's SPRING FEVER collab!! i have been working on this for awhile now and i am excited to share it! this should be about 3 parts...i am very close to finishing the whole thing so i should be releasing a part a week for the next two weeks!

thank you for reading!! i would love to hear your thoughts <333

━─━────༺༻────━─━

“I think you’d be perfect.”

Suguru’s voice is a caress, low and soft, as he sits across from you.

Somehow, he always makes you feel like he is just beneath the surface of your skin, even if there is a respectable distance between you. He always makes you feel as if he is lurking somewhere in the lowest parts of you, pulling at strings you once thought hidden to yourself.

You’ve kept your distance for this reason.

You swallow hard.

And then you manage to get your voice to unstick, to find it somewhere inside of you and bring it to life. It’s firmer than you’re anticipating and you’re proud;

“I don’t think I would be.”

Suguru looks at you in a way that makes you feel as if he’s seeing through you, pulling you open slowly to gaze at all the inner workings of you. His dark eyes are keen, so sharp, even if they’re shaded by half-lidded lashes.

He smiles pleasantly and indulges you, but you know he believes very firmly that he is, in fact, right, “why not?”

“I told you when I agreed to join you—all I wanted in exchange for helping you, was to be an unbound Omega.” You force yourself to meet his eyes and to not get sucked into the dark tide of them.

“You asked for my protection.” He reminds you.

Your eyes flash this time, heated, a little spark that skitters to life inside of you.

“I didn’t—“

“Is that not what you’d call it?” Suguru asks, “when I interfered, every time, to be sure no other Alpha got to you? Or when I scented you to keep them away?”

Prickling warmth dots your cheeks, can feel at the back of your neck, too, the tips of your ears. You try a different tactic.

“I’m not a homemaker.”

His smile is soft, “I don’t want a homemaker.”

“I’m not obedient.” You counter again, as if you could dissuade Suguru Getou once he’s made up his mind.

“You’ve been quite good for me.” Suguru says smugly and this time, a little noise of embarrassment or frustration eeks out of you. A short, sharp little growl from your throat, almost a groan of irritation.

“I—I’m doing your dirty work. That’s our agreement! You give me assignments that I complete and in return, I get my freedom.”

“I don’t know why you’re so opposed to this. Is it not similar already to what we have now?” He asks simply, “I’d still let you roam, if that’s what you’re so scared of.”

“No it’s that—that power and mentality that I don’t want you to have over me.” You snap.

“I already have it,” he says and it isn’t intended to be cruel, but certainly is, “how long do you think you’d last, without the protection of an Alpha?”

“I didn’t have any before you.”

“You were starving, injured, and constantly on the run before me.” You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off, “it would still give you what you want.”

“I don’t want to be yours.” You say frankly, perhaps to be cruel yourself. And then you show teeth a little, flash them in warning, “I don’t want your mark.”

Suguru looks amused, if anything, by your display.

His smile is knowing and insufferable. It makes your anger ratchet up inside of you, hackles rising. You feel a little growl working its way out of your throat. It tears out of you in annoyance, when he says, “I don’t believe you.”

You slam the door so hard on its hinges that it rattles the entire wall. You wish it would rattle all the world.

***

Your cursed technique rips to life like a star exploding outwards.

Beast that you are, it overtakes you, transforms you until you are all claws and dripping, little fangs. Your body elongates, elegant, and built for speed, viciousness. The horns atop your head are sharp, too, curled the slightest into a crescent shape. The beast in you stretches and pulls at your bones, fits your skin to it in a way that you have come to know well.

(“Cursed technique: Cursed Creature,” Suguru hums, “allows you to turn into a cursed version of yourself, a sort of,” he pauses, looking you over, “monster?”

“That’s right.” You tell him, body trembling all over, in dire need of food. Care. Sleep.

He places a large hand on top of your head, strokes gently, until his hand nudges your cheek, beneath your chin so you are forced to look up into his eyes. Depthless violet.

“You have a deal.”)

The sorcerer is cast backward with the force of your transformation. In this form, everything heightens, sharpening into brilliance. So much brighter, clearer. So much more overwhelming.

You are a flash of darkness when you move, a mass of lethality.

The sorcerer doesn’t stand a chance, the moment you dash past him with a deep swipe of your claws, you know this will be an easy match. You chitter in this form, excited, warbly little sound erupting from you before you careen towards him again.

This time, he is warped away.

But you are fast, changing your trajectory mid-step to catch up to where he was warped.

Except, this time, a white haired sorcerer takes his place.

Your claws meet air.

A growling hiss erupts from your throat.

Satoru Gojo.

Suguru told you to stay away from him. At all costs.

And speak of the devil, your name is called, whistled almost. Your head turns to find Suguru appearing, too.

Faintly, the more human part of you wonders what the occasion is.

For a moment, all you can see is threat. Your hackles rise as your growling gets lower, more sinister, your form moving behind Gojo as if you might circle him, unable to let down your guard.

“Call off your pet,” Gojo says.

Suguru calls your name again and there’s something else in his tone now, a little sharper.

(Fear, you wonder faintly, in some far away part of your mind. Is he worried Gojo would hurt you?)

You come to heel at Suguru’s side, remaining in this form, making a low, threatening sound still. Warning. Your claws still drip with the blood of that sorcerer.

“Go,” Suguru says to you.

Your head snaps to look at him, eyes narrowing. “I’m not leaving,” you snap and the words have a bite to it, around the curves of your fangs. You look back at Gojo. If this comes to blows, you don’t want Suguru facing Gojo alone–you don’t want to leave his back suddenly unguarded.

It’s counterintuitive to you, goes against all of your instincts. You don’t leave him, you don’t leave his side, his back.

“Go,” Suguru says, harsher this time and the command seeps into you. You waver. And then, “I won’t tell you again.”

When you hiss at him in that warbling way of curses, he smiles faintly, almost fondly, as your teeth drip with venom. But you do listen to him this time.

And with your heightened hearing, you hear Gojo underneath his breath as you slink away;

“How interesting.”

***

When Suguru returns to you, he is unharmed.

You’d paced the length of the hallway outside of his room in the compound until you could have worn a hole into it.

Few would be brave enough to wait for Suguru outside his door.

When he arrives, he is mildly surprised to see you, before his expression melts into a sort of—smugness. A knowing glint to his eyes.

“Why would you send me away?” You snap.

“You could’ve gone in, you know, if it would’ve soothed you.” Suguru says instead, head nodding towards the door to his suite. “Would you like a key?”

You blanche, taking a half step back, “I don’t—“

It allows him to get to his door and open it. You’ve been here before, in the privacy of his suite, but now it feels strange. A little different. He holds the door open for you.

You glance at the threshold and feel as if you’re making an important decision.

“Come on,” he says smoothly and before you can think twice about it, you are being led inside, his hand drifting somewhere near your lower back. He never touches you, the feeling is a phantom one, the impression of it. You shiver a little.

But you round on him again, “why would you send me away?”

He doesn’t acknowledge you, instead he goes rifling in a drawer, digging around a little.

His suite is larger than others. The living room is open and attached is the kitchen. It’s all light wood, with tall windows that overlook the courtyard. You know, despite never being inside, that his bedroom is down the hall and to the left. The bathroom is across from it. You’ve sat many times on the floor of his living room with him, going over assignments, plans that he has, and what he’d like you to do.

When he finds what he’s looking for, he makes a soft noise, before turning to you with a small, gold key.

“I don’t want a key!” You snap.

“It’s a spare, take it just in case.” He replies and when you don’t move to grab it from him, he takes your hand in his much larger one, and opens your palm to him.

He places the key in your hand.

And then his eyes catch yours, “you were worried.”

“No-!” you get out, “I don’t like being—I’m supposed to protect you.”

Suguru smiles, hand still swallowing yours, “isn’t that sweet?” he remarks, “an Omega attempting to protect an Alpha.”

Immediately, you jerk away from him.

The key is still in your shaking fist.

“Don’t start,” you snarl, low and vicious and hurt, “I’ve always been the one at your side.”

“Yes,” he agrees, hand falling back down to his side listlessly. “I already told you that.”

You’ve always been at my side, he’d said, when he was trying to convince you to–

“That’s not what I meant!” Your voice rises without your consent and you feel an embarrassed, angry flush through your face for being so worked up. The room is thick with your worry and anger and frustration, all of your pent up energy like a knot in your chest, in your voice. It’s in your heart and the way you look at him.

“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” Suguru says easily, “it’s still the truth.”

When you slam the door this time, you hear something fall from the wall.

But the key is still in your trembling hand, digging indents into your palm, and your heart is still a beast in your chest.

And behind the closed door, Suguru Getou smiles fondly, and retrieves the fallen, shattered frame from the floor.

***

For a while, you avoid Suguru.

You stuff the key he gave you in your nightstand drawer, far in the back, in an attempt to keep it out of sight and out of your mind.

And at first, you think he is respecting your boundaries; you receive assignments through others from him. You see him only in passing and he never speaks directly to you. He hardly acknowledges you.

But after a week and a half, it begins to feel like punishment.

And the key is starting to burn and itch in your mind. You think about it at night, tossing over in your bed; you think about unlocking his door at this hour. What would you find? Would he be asleep? Awake? Alone? Fully dressed?

You think of him half bare and lounging, hair slipping over his shoulders, and the scent of sandalwood and fig. Tonka or something woodsy, maybe. You know it well and it lingers long after he leaves you.

You suddenly miss it, crave it.

Him.

You twist beneath your sheets.

Why did he have to–

You make a soft noise of frustration, turning over again.

You’re restless.

Something beneath your skin begins to itch and squirm.

Previously, Suguru had hardly mentioned your status as an Omega. He rarely acknowledged it; you were too brilliant of a sorcerer for him to care, you thought. You were too powerful. The only instance he brought it up was to scent you, a form of caution in a particular instance, for a particular mission. The memory still simmers in your mind, the way he’d rubbed the gland on your wrist with a careful thumb. He’d given you clothes of his to wear. He’d had you sit in his quarters for long hours, until it seemed as if you were his, in some way.

But now that he’s actually brought it up, offered you his bite, to be his, it paints him in an entirely different light.

Had he always…wanted you?

Was he always planning this?

The naive, desperate parts of you want to believe this is a recent thought of his. Previous to this, he only ever saw you as another sorcerer, a powerful one that aided him. You had always been one of the closer ones to him, at his heel, his beck and call.

You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought of Suguru this way; as an Alpha. An unmated one, who kept your company.

And he does, no matter how badly it burns to admit it, protect you.

You know he wards off Alphas.

You know he perhaps does more than even that.

But you don’t want—

You don’t want to be mated.

You don’t want to suddenly be coddled by him, held back, don’t want to be the little thing that keeps his bed warm.

Your face heats with the thought.

Images flash through your mind, flickering, melting together like film that bleeds and runs, of him overtop you. Shrouding you. His hair on your shoulders and back. You think of his mouth on your throat, teeth in your neck.

You rub at your eyes suddenly as if to clear them.

You know he leaves on a mission for a week in two days.

You assume, at some point, he’ll speak to you. And break this strange silence.

You’ll both return to normal then.

And then perhaps you won’t lose any more sleep over him.

***

Suguru never says goodbye to you.

It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does—you just figured he’d finally drop this silly little silence game.

You suppose he must’ve thought the same of you.

Besides, what were you expecting from him? An apology? It’s foolish to even entertain. You knew you weren’t going to apologize either. The least you’ll do, when he returns, is act as if all is normal again. Perhaps it’s better that way, not to address what he’s put in his head recently.

The more you speak of it, or think of it, the worse it unravels in your mind.

On the second day that he is gone, you realize you miss his scent.

You realize it has become such a staple in your everyday life that its sudden disappearance is almost alarming. It makes you more irritable, more vicious. You snap at the others faster, bite out insults and brutalities.

You—

Well, you miss it.

Him, maybe.

The admittance is a hard one to swallow around. It burns going down.

On the third day, you’re genuinely craving his scent in a way that makes your teeth ache. You had no idea you could even miss a scent like this, need it so bad that your body would betray you with a physical pain in your chest. Somewhere in your mouth, under your tongue.

You try to ignore it.

You go on with your life.

But by the fifth day, you are agitated and aggressive. Everyone knows something is wrong with you. You know something is wrong with you. You can feel it beneath your skin, crawling, squirming. It makes you want to tear out your hair, rip at your nails, or sink your teeth into something. You’re restless.

You can’t sleep.

You can hardly eat or think.

And as you lay awake in your bed, kicking at sheets, sweating and twisting, you know what it is you need.

You’ve known the whole week.

You throw back the covers and wrench open your bedside drawer.

The key rattles, hot, like it knows it’s finally about to be used. It’s musical sound a siren song, it’s been burning away in there the whole week.

You swipe it and turn sharply from your bedroom. From your own apartment.

It’s the middle of the night; not a soul sees you in the compound.

Like a person possessed, you walk. Your back is straight. Your steps are quick. Your mind is set, on fire.

Suguru’s door has haunted you the whole week.

The key in your hand digs into the flesh, carving it’s divots there like your hand might be the lock itself.

You try not to think about it–you unlock the door. You throw it open.

You shut it behind you, slide the lock back into place.

Darkness greets you.

You wander in like you know the place (you do, you do–)

You wander in like it’s yours to wander in.

Instantly, something loosens inside of you.

You exhale hard.

Inhale sharp.

The smell of him, fainter because he’s been gone, assaults your senses, sweeps over them. You take in a lungful like gasping for air, you smell faint traces of fig and sandalwood. Notes of tonka that you long for, that urge you to move deeper into his space.

In the dark, you make your way down the hall, towards his bedroom.

You haunt the arch for a moment.

Guilt or regret or embarrassment almost seize you. They make you pause.

Some sane part of you is clawing at your insides, wailing to turn around and leave. Leave now.

But he gave you a key.

He gave you a key, you think in circles, again and again. He gave me a key.

You cross the threshold.

You sink down into his bed and his scent is strongest here, even still, after several days it’s his.

You turn over the covers to get beneath them, cool sheets against your legs, sliding and smooth. You turn your face into his pillow and inhale.

A soft little groan works it’s way out of you.

Instantly, your muscles slacken.

Everything leeches from you; your anger and irritation and restlessness.

It soothes you so deeply and so swiftly it makes your head spin.

You curl beneath his blankets and take deep pulls of breath, squirming a moment if only to bring his scent tighter around you. You envelope yourself in it.You shroud yourself in it.

And finally, after five days of restless nights, you fall asleep almost instantly.

Not a single dream. Not one moment where you wake or stir.

You sleep deeply.

In the morning, the sun warms you through the broad windows like a content cat.

You stretch lazily like one, too.

Suguru will be home tomorrow.

You know you need to leave his bed, hope that your scent dissipates by the time he returns.

You didn’t do anything wrong, you know—he gave you a key.

He gave you a key.

But rather, you know he would never let you live it down. He would use it instantly, as ammunition for his argument, the debate that the two of you keep circling.

You don’t quite leave as quickly as you should still, though:

You linger.

You’re comfortable.

Calmed for the first time all week.

And when you do slip out, it’s silently, locking the door behind you.

Like maybe you won’t ever let yourself back in there, trying to shut it like it was a one time indulgence and gone now from your mind and body.

But his scent clings to you.

And little do you know, your scent clings to his sheets—and to Suguru, it’s sweet as can be and unmistakable—irreplaceable.

He collapses in his own bed when he returns and knows you’ve been all over it. He can smell the crush of dark berries, jasmine, the soothing note of vanilla that clings to you, that he’s come to adore.

He grins to himself and knows then, he’s got you right where he wants you.

***

For a moment, you think Suguru is going to make you be the bigger person and apologize upon his return.

Instead, he finds you.

And he doesn’t say he’s sorry for his recent behavior, but he does say;

“I’d prefer if you didn’t avoid me in the future.”

It feels like sorry enough.

And for some time, things return to a state of normal.

A version of it.

It isn’t quite like it was before—in fact, you seem to spend more time around him than previously. He calls on you more. He brings you into his space more frequently, often urging you to eat with him, beside him, at his table.

This is ideal for you. Close but not too close.

Although, he begins to ask, don’t you have your key? Can’t you let yourself in?

You say you haven’t used it.

He hums like he knows differently, but doesn’t press you.

Until finally he asks you to retrieve a notebook in his study and bring it to him.

Fetch, he says.

“It’s locked, isn’t it?”

“You have your key.” He answers simply, not looking up from the book he is reading.

For a moment, you almost protest, but something stops you. Maybe the twitch in his brow.

It’s a useless argument to pick, anyways.

You do have a key.

It would be fastest, easiest, to just use it.

So you do.

And you hand him the notebook he asked for, fingers brushing against his as he takes it from you with gentle hands.

“Thank you,” he adds, voice so smooth and low, almost tempting.

You swallow a little.

Then you quickly avert your gaze.

“Whatever,” you grouse, but he smiles fondly, amused.

And it opens another door, more than just the one to his suite.

***

Tentatively, you begin to come and go.

The first (second) time you use your key to enter without his order, he is careful not to react to you any differently than how he usually does.

His eyes brighten a little, though, like a leopard that’s caught something interesting in its sights and is waiting to see what it’ll do.

Still, you grow more comfortable entering his space on your own.

You claim portions of it; a corner of the couch. A particular cushion around his low table. All of the sunny patches in his suite become yours, scented with you, indented with you. More than that, some horrible, hidden part of you adores that your scent is all over his space.

It’s comforting to find it beside his scent.

It soothes a part of you that you don’t wish to admit to.

His hands grow bolder.

Now they’re always hovering at the small of your back, the nape of your neck. He tucks strands of your hair away from your face and though you jerk away from him, it’s often half-hearted. You snip at him and he only smiles.

Pleased. Smug. Knowing.

His hands guide you as you walk beside him.

You grow accustomed to his touch in some way—he makes sure of it.

Then, as if to prove something—

Another cult member begins to cause trouble with you; he is another Omega. He begins with snide comments and remarks that test your patience. He doesn’t stop until you are growling and bristled and ready for a fight.

And all it takes to stop you is Suguru’s large hand coming down on the nape of your neck.

His thumb rests atop one scent gland at your throat, fingertips pressing delicately into the one on the other side. Hand wrapped around the back of your neck.

“Easy,” he murmurs and just like that, you can feel some of your aggression slip from you, deflate like a balloon.

It’s involuntary, the energy and anger unspooling from your body in an instant. In the back of your mind, you’re alarmed; how easily it was for him to effect you. It’s terrifying.

You swat his hand away, lurching from him, another little growl in your throat.

But you don’t fight him or the look in his eyes, the way he tilts his chin up in the barest hint of dominance.

You storm off.

Instances as such continue to happen, though, where he’s able to sooth or quell your temperament with a touch. A word. A look.

It comes to a head while you’re eating dinner with him.

“You’re so wound up,” Suguru comments lightly, “your scent is so sharp with it. What’s bothering you?”

Reflexively, you snap, “you are.”

And it’s meant to be some sort of insult but Suguru’s lips twist into this hitched little smile. “It’s my fault you’re wound up?” He asks lightly.

“Don’t twist my words.” You respond, fixing him with a glare, “you bother me.”

He’s still deeply amused by this, you can tell by the twinkle in his eyes. The smug way he holds himself.

“Would you like me to help you?” He asks.

“No,” you say reflexively.

A beat of silence before he says, “come here. I’ll help you.”

There’s a command in his voice, laced there, and doing something strange to your head.

You hesitate.

He pounces, “just a massage.” He soothes, “I can tell your shoulders are knotted up and tense. I can see it.”

His voice has dropped into that soothing lull.

Warily, “away from my glands?”

He smiles, “of course.” And then, “come here.”

Your body moves easily now and he murmurs, “sit in front of me. Back to me—there, that’s it.”

It feels more vulnerable than it should to show your back to him, to sit in front of him like a child to their mother. You try to keep your posture straight and careful.

But then he sets large, warm hands to your shoulders. His fingers dig into the meat of them gently, pressing into your muscles which spasm and twitch in pain. You yelp, jerking away.

Suguru tsks, “see how tense you are? You’re in pain.” He scolds softly and you feel heat smart across your face, “sit still for me. I’ll be gentler.”

True to his word, he eases up, fingers careful as they run into your tense muscles.

He finds bundles of twisted up tension in your back and shoulders, pressing into them until a noise springs from you—a groan, a whimper, a little growl. He works the sounds out of you. You swear he’s doing it deliberately and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was all just to humiliate you a little.

But you finally loosen and slacken for him.

When you finally sink into his hands, he murmurs, “I don’t know why you fight this so badly.”

You let go of a heavy sigh, “you do know why. Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Because you’re stubborn?” Suguru asks lightly and you snort, despite yourself, “because you don’t know what’s good for you?”

“You’re no good for me.” You respond.

Suguru’s turn to sigh and if he digs his fingers in to make you yip in pain, he’d never say it was purposeful.

Reflexively, you jerk away from his touch, you turn to look at him over your shoulder with a sneer.

“I’m not a pet.”

Suguru does not heed your warning and instead gently pulls you back towards him by your waist.

“No?” He asks lightly, fingers resuming their steady massage. You go completely still like prey, unsure, wary. Angry. Humiliated. “It’s not a bad thing to be a pet. You’re thinking about it all wrong.”

His fingers ease up towards your neck and you stiffen again.

“Suguru,” you say in warning as he nears your scent glands. Perhaps to what he’s said.

“You’re my pet now,” he continues, “though you don’t like to admit it. It’s not so bad, is it?”

Stubbornly, you don’t answer him.

But after a moment, you say, “if I’m already yours, why do you need this last bit of me? If you already see me as your pet, why do you want me so terribly, in this way—“

Suguru suddenly pulls you back deeper, into his lap, against his chest.

You squirm, but he holds you tight, hooks his chin over your shoulder.

Alarm bells ring frantically in your head now that he’s so close to the glands in your throat.

“Don’t play dumb,” Suguru muses, half-mocking, “it doesn’t suit you.”

“Let me go,” you snarl low and hot.

“What are you scared of?” Suguru responds, “that I’d trap you? If you’d take my Bite, I’d let you roam further than I do now. You’d be safe.”

“Liar,” you hiss, “I’m not dumb.”

“I’m not trying to stifle you, I’m trying to set you free.” Suguru almost purrs and his voice is warm and low and creeping up over your spine and trying to find its way inside you.

You begin to squirm this time, thrashing in his hold until you manage to wriggle free, falling forward onto your hands and knees.

Instinctively, you turn to keep your back protected, scrambling away from him. You bare your teeth at him.

“I don’t believe you.”

He watches this show of aggression with amusement, tilting his head slightly. And then he sighs, “I don’t think anything I say will convince you at this point.”

You narrow your eyes at the tone. Your hackles rise.

In an instant, he has grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you back to him.

Underneath him.

You shove hard at him, twisting and fighting as he settles himself over you.

You realize how solid he is, how strong, and large. He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Suguru,” you hiss at him, pushing as hard as you can on his chest.

“See how easy it was for me to subdue you?” He says then, voice smooth and low. “If I wanted to take you, I simply would’ve already. You’re no challenge to me; if I wanted to trap you, I would’ve.”

“Get off me!”

You thrash hard beneath him and in an instant, he has your hands uselessly pinned above your head, stretching you out beneath him.

His nose dips, near the scent gland at your throat. You squirm.

He squeezes your wrists, “stop squirming.” He murmurs low, “or my instinct will be to bite.”

Your stomach does a horrible flip, a flutter of—fear, excitement.

“Just—get off—leave me alone!” You get out, voice high and tight. You try not to arch away from the way he lets his face fall to the crook of your neck.

“Hush,” Suguru hisses, nudging his nose beneath your ear.

He’s scenting you.

He’s done this before and despite everything in you, you finally go slack. You force yourself not to tilt your head or offer up more, rather let him urge you into the way that he prefers.

He nudges his cheek and nose against your jaw. He lets out a relieved breath, fitting more of his body to you and you feel the push of chest into yours, his hips.

You squirm a little and a growl erupts from his throat.

You fight back the sound that almost works its way out of you now, swallow around it.

When he’s finished, he asks, “would you like to scent me?” And instinctively, you want to say yes, but you temper yourself. Then he adds, “I’m sending you away on a mission alone. I’ll be scenting you until the day you leave now.”

You catch his eyes, glinting.

“So, I thought it only fair if you’d like to scent me, too.”

You don’t know why, but something squirms inside of you, something a little hurt.

“You’re sending me away?”

Suguru hums softly, “I need you to take care of something for me. I only trust you to do it.”

You flex your hands a little in his hold, but he doesn’t budge.

He nudges at your jaw again, gentle, and murmurs, “this would be easier if you’d take my mark.”

You turn your head then to shield your throat, and face him. His nose nearly brushes yours and you look up at him through your lashes. You bite your tongue from any further complaints, dipping down to the crux of his throat now.

Easily, perhaps eagerly, he bares his throat for you.

Satisfaction erupts beneath your skin as his scent washes over you, dark fig and oud, sandalwood and musk. Carefully, your nose runs along the column of his throat.

“I’m not even—“ you huff, retry, “I haven’t had a Heat in—it wouldn’t take, anyways.”

“Ah,” Suguru says and you wish you hadn’t told him at all. Realization dawns over his features the way a cat might realize it’s caught its mouse beneath its paws. “Is this what you’re so scared of?”

“No—I prefer it this way. It’s another reason that you can’t. It wouldn’t work.” You say stubbornly and perhaps in your irritation, you burrow further down into the crook of his neck, tuck your cheek to his skin to nudge.

“I could give you a temporary one,” he murmurs, “I’d let you do the same in return, of course.”

You go quiet, brushing your lips against his skin, hesitating.

“I don’t need it.” You finally decide, even as you let the blunt side of a tooth nick gently against his neck. “I can protect myself.” You pull away to look at him again, “am I not one of your strongest?”

“You are my strongest.” He agrees, he praises. “But am I not also strong?” He asks, “and yet you still insist on protecting me.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he takes your chin in hand suddenly, words dying before they can escape.

“You are my strongest.” He says, “I would like the world to be aware of it.”

“I told you, I don’t want to be yours–”

“Then stop protecting me. Flee. Run away and never return.” Suddenly, his touch, his body, all of him is gone. He rolls off of you and onto his back beside you. Cold air sweeps in. You can feel his touch like burning imprints on your skin.

You turn your head to the side to look at him.

“You would hunt me down if I ran.”

A flicker of a smile ghosts his face.

“And if I ran from you?” He asks, “if I discarded you?”

Something twists so viciously and sharply in your chest that your eyes sting with it. You lock your jaw tight. You stare up at the ceiling.

“You refuse to speak but your scent is spiced with distress, sour with despair.” He turns to look at you, “not so easy to hear, is it?”

“I can’t stand you or your games.” You get out.

“There are no games.” He says evenly, “only the one you’re playing with yourself.”

You scoff, “which is?”

He sits up slightly, over you, looking down at you, the inky silk of his dark hair sliding over one shoulder.

“Seeing how long you can outrun what you want.”

You exhale roughly, in exasperation, and then you ask dryly, “and what do I want, Suguru?”

“To be taken care of.”

“I don’t need–”

He cuts off your growl before it can start, taking your chin in hand to turn your head towards him once more. “You never have, but it doesn’t mean you can’t want it.”

“I don’t want it either.” You snap. “You have some grand delusion of me in your mind that I am some weak, submissive creature in need of your care.”

“I’ve said none of that, have I?” He hums. “Now you’re twisting my words, being purposefully churlish–in hopes of, what? To scare me off?”

His palm opens up against your jaw, your cheek. His thumb touches your bottom lip.

“You snap and you snarl and posture as some ferocious, independent creature to scare everyone off. I don’t blame you–I am certain you protected yourself many times this way from lesser people.” His voice is soft, almost a lull, you allow his palm to open against your lips, to turn your face into the cup of his hands. “You don’t believe anyone can handle you and you hope if you bite hard enough, tear into them, they’ll run off. And then you’ll feel vindicated; you were right, you are too much to handle. You were right, you are a monster. You’re unworthy of care or companionship or protection.”

His hand moves upward, baring his wrist to your mouth now, “go on,” he encourages, “bite me. As hard as you like. Scream and cry and tear into me. Loathe me and scorn me.” He leans closer, over you, as he hushes like a mother to their child, “I’ll still be here, with the rings of your teeth marks littered in my skin. I’ll be the only one, bruised and bloody, still taking care of you–no matter how badly you fight me.”

Out of anger or frustration or something else entirely, tears prick your eyes. As if to hide them, you open your mouth against his wrist, gentle first–warm and soft lips and tongue. He looks enraptured. He looks starving.

You sink your teeth into his skin viciously.

He hisses in pain, sharp, but doesn’t pull away. “There,” he coos, leaning over you, sinking into the pain, “is that what you wanted?”

Blood bursts into your mouth in a way that is almost startling, sharp and metallic. It should be gross and horrible and–you whine a little, somewhere in the back of your throat and bear down harder.

If that’s what he promises, you’ll make him prove it.

If he wants to be the one beside you, you’ll make him pay.

He leans down to kiss at your cheeks, gentle, humming. You realize there are tears. Your jaw aches.

But you don’t let go and he doesn’t even flinch.

“Does that feel better? To get your teeth into someone who isn’t scared of you?” He murmurs, nudging at your tense jaw, kissing there. “Shall I do the same to you?”

You release his wrist and shove him off, hard enough that he gives and he goes.

You stand up and storm out of his chambers, slamming the door on its hinges as hard as you can. You hope it knocks over every painting on his walls. You hope the entire compound somehow hears it. You hope it breaks something in the same way that something has been broken open inside of you.

You wipe his blood from your mouth with the back of your hand.

Suguru doesn’t even bandage the wound. And he wears his sleeves high, so that all the world might see it.

#suguru getou x reader #suguru geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru getou x you #getou suguru x you #suguru geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #cw: omegaverse #cw: yandere #cielo writes!#cielo's writing!

466 notes · View notes

kingofbodyrolls · 11 months ago

Text

Stuck in a Snowstorm (m) | pjm

You don’t know how you ended up here. Stuck with your mortal enemy, Park Jimin, in you car – in a fucking snowstorm.

→ Pairing: Jimin x female reader → AU + genres: enemies to lovers, pwp (very little plot – let me be honest, it’s just pure smut). Humor/crack, smut. → Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 - this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact. → Word count: 6,1k → Warnings (general) + triggers: Jimin is just a mean jerk and reader is a brat 😂 Lots of banter, crack and anger towards each other. → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex, dirty talk, orgasm denial/delay, hair pulling, oral (female and male receiving), breasts and nipple play. Also, use of a tie 👀 → Author’s note: This is actually a story that I planned to write all the way back in 2017 – better late than never, right? 😂 I had only made the plot with some outline, so I basically started from scrap. But it had been stuck in my mind since FOREVER and now I just miss Jimin a shit ton, so I made this. I hope you enjoy it! Also, it shouldn’t be taken too seriously, it’s just smut with minimal plot and don’t question the characters bad actions or some minor plot holes 😂 (Also, I did not proofread this, just because). Also, merry Christmas / happy holidays – this is my gift to you wonderful people out there 💜AND are you guys looking forward to Jimin’s ‘Closer than This’ tomorrow???? 💜

If you prefer to read on AO3 you can read it here 😀

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a mini series ‘The Winter Collection’, but it can be read as a stand alone (as can all the installments in the series).

“I can’t believe this…” in disbelief, you mutter, your voice tinged with uncertainty, while you desperately activate the windshield wiper, yearning for even a fleeting glimpse through the thick curtain of falling snow.

“I can,” Jimin declares from his spot beside you in the passenger seat. His playful critique follows swiftly, delivered with a pout and a firm voice, as he shakes his head in mock disbelief, “You're a terrible driver.”

“Am not!” you retort defiantly, your voice cutting through the air, even as your unwavering gaze remains fixed on the snowy expanse ahead.

A curtain of thick snow descends, veiling everything in an opaque white shroud. The road ahead is swallowed by the relentless onslaught, turning visibility into an elusive challenge.

Your hands clench the wheel with a vice-like grip, the strain evident as your knuckles whiten under the pressure. The tension in your entire body is so palpable that it hurts to fucking drive.

Exhaustion weighs on you heavily, a relentless burden, yet the realization hits that you're only halfway to your friends' Christmas party. Two more hours loom ahead, a daunting stretch of time spent in the company of Park Jimin, your sworn enemy.

The decision to share a car ride is a mystery even to yourself; perhaps it was a fleeting concern for the planet, a noble intention to save fuel by consolidating into one vehicle. Yet, as the journey unfolds, the real reasons behind your choice become an enigma.

Regret courses through you like a bitter undercurrent as you ponder the altruistic intentions behind considering the planet and the environment. The thought of advising Jimin to take his own car nags at you, a missed opportunity for a peaceful solo drive. In a self-cursing moment, you rue your own kindness.

“Let me drive; I’m a better driver than you anyway.” Jimin declares with casual confidence, his tone carrying an air of nonchalance.

“Fuck off, Jimin!” you hiss, frustration dripping from your words like venom.

You squint against the relentless assault of heavy snow, the world outside morphing into an indistinct blur as visibility dwindles.

Your pace is deliberate, a cautious dance with the road, but after several minutes, you relent, succumbing to the inevitable by slowing down even further.

“Fine!” you declare, seizing the steering wheel in a determined clench, bringing the car to an abrupt halt.

You pivot your gaze towards Jimin, the words cutting through the tension, “You fucking drive then.”

Shifting the car into park, you unclip your seatbelt with a determined click, swing the door open, and brave the biting embrace of the freezing snowstorm outside.

In synchronized movements, Jimin mirrors your actions, and together, you step out into the frigid air. The two of you converge outside, a silent agreement palpable in the crunch of snow beneath your feet, as you navigate around the car, preparing to swap seats.

“If you crash my car, I’ll kill you.” you menace, venom seeping through your words as you stride past him, positioning yourself in front of the vehicle.

He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, a smug satisfaction evident in his demeanor, relishing the fact that you've conceded to let him take the wheel.

Jimin confidently eases his plump figure into the driver's seat, and you avert your gaze (definitely not looking!). With a self-assured demeanor, he expertly adjusts the seat to accommodate his frame.

You attempt to thaw your chilled hands under the blast of hot air from the air conditioner, the sour mood hanging heavy around you as you settle into the passenger seat, donning a visible pout.

“Relax, I’m not gonna crash your precious car,” he teases, the playfulness evident in his voice, just before smoothly shifting the car into gear and forging ahead.

In response, a huff escapes your lips, arms instinctively crossing in a silent declaration of your lingering displeasure.

You surrender to a sense of ease as Jimin takes the wheel, his deliberate pace aligning with caution. It's a mutual understanding — in this snow-laden terrain, slow and steady becomes a shared creed for safety.

The once teasing atmosphere now gives way to palpable tension, the air thick with the weight of swirling snow that has intensified. Jimin, too, struggles visibly against the heavier onslaught, the challenge of navigating through the snow turning the car into a place of shared unease.

Your gaze fixates on Jimin, observing as his fingers clench the steering wheel with a tension mirroring your own, and his shoulders stiffen in sync. A chuckle escapes you, unexpectedly audible, as you notice the ironic similarity between his reaction and your earlier demeanor.

“What’s so funny?” Jimin spits, the tension reverberating unmistakably in his voice, each word a note in the symphony of strained emotions.

“Your driving,” you start to chuckle, the amusement laced with a hint of mischief.

“You're not exactly outclassing my skills,” you declare, sinking into the seat with a self-assured smirk, relishing the satisfaction of your own driving prowess.

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” he seethes, the words charged with anger, his gaze sharply turning towards you, locking onto your eyes.

Despite Jimin's cautious speed, the car subtly veers, casting doubt on whether you're still on the road or lost in the oblivion of the thick snow. The blinding white landscape offers no clarity, leaving you uncertain and immersed in a disorienting wintry haze.

“I can’t see fucking shit!” he exclaims, abruptly bringing the car to a halt and cutting the engine in an instant, plunging you both into an eerie silence amid the obscured surroundings.

Your gaze locks onto him, urgency etched across your face. “What are you doing? We've got Seokjin's Christmas party in less than an hour!” The frustration in your voice reverberates, a ticking clock amplifying the stakes of the impending deadline.

“It’s not safe to drive in this freaking snowstorm!” he bellows in response, frustration escalating in his voice, punctuated by the sharp flick of the hazard warning lights, signaling the urgency and danger of the situation.

“I just want to get there already. I'd rather not be stuck with you,” you seethe, teeth gritted, a visible huff escaping in a cloud of anger. The tension hangs heavy, fueled by the biting words that linger in the now frosty air.

“Like I'd willingly be stuck with your sour attitude,” he retorts, his gaze sweeping you from head to toe for some inscrutable reason. “I don't even like you,” he declares, the words loaded with an unspoken tension that hangs in the frosty air between you two.

You gape at him, the bitter truth resonating in the air—an unspoken agreement that neither of you harbors any liking for the other. The animosity between you has solidified into a hostile dynamic, despite the shared circle of friends that consistently throws you together, much to your enduring displeasure.

Jimin exudes an infuriating level of cockiness, ceaselessly pushing your buttons and expertly tapping into the art of annoyance until it feels like your nerves are unraveling at his mere presence.

You'd willingly brave the biting cold rather than endure the prospect of an unpredictable future confined with him inside the car. Fate seems to revel in mocking you, as the car rapidly succumbs to the encroaching chill, each passing minute intensifying the unwelcome cold that now permeates the confined space.

You clutch your arms tightly around your body, desperately running your hands up and down in a futile attempt to gather some warmth. A curse slips from your lips as you question your own sanity—why in the world did you take off your jacket for the drive? Now it's trapped in the damn trunk, and the thought of braving the freezing cold to retrieve it is utterly unappealing.

“Cold?” he chuckles, the sound carrying an edge of amusement that only amplifies the chill sinking into your bones.

You nod your head.

“Well, I’m not giving you my jacket,” he states matter-of-factly, cocooning himself in the evident warmth of his puffer jacket. Damn Park Jimin and his infuriating nonchalance, he's truly a master of being a jerk!

“Can't even manage a simple act of kindness,” you mutter with disdain, the words escaping in a sharp hiss, a low and almost grumbling tone, accompanied by a dismissive eye roll.

“What's that?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips, relishing the snug warmth of his jacket while you shiver in the cold.

“Fuck you, Park!” you shout directly in his face, your words laced with frustration. Instead of a retort, he just chuckles, the sound taking on a manic edge that lingers in the frosty air, leaving an unsettling resonance to your heated exchange.

An indeterminate amount of time slips away, lost in the relentless snowfall that shows no sign of relenting. Frustration building, you reach for your phone and decide to text Seokjin, realizing that this damn snow isn't planning on letting up anytime soon.

You [15.42]: Stuck in a snowstorm with fucking Park Jimin. I don’t know when we’ll arrive 🙄

Jin [15.48]: Just stay safe 😂

Fuck Seokjin! You’re convinced that he’s somewhere enjoying a good laugh at your misfortune.

A surge of realization hits you like a bolt of inspiration—there's a blanket tucked away in the backseat. Swiftly moving up, you make your way to the center console.

“What’re you doing?” Jimin questions, his curiosity evident in the quirk of his eyebrow as you navigate over the center console, leaving him bewildered by your sudden, mysterious movements.

“There's a blanket back here,” you announce triumphantly, finally laying hands on the sought-after comfort. With a satisfying plop into the seat, you tug the blanket snugly over your cold body, a gesture that transforms the atmosphere within the car from chilly discomfort to a brief oasis of warmth.

After a few contemplative minutes, Jimin breaks the silence with a question that hangs in the air, “Mind if I join you?”

Your mouth falls agape, and your eyes widen in astonishment at his unexpected question. Collecting yourself, you respond with a hint of sarcasm, “You weren't keen on sharing your jacket with me. What makes you think I'd be willing to share my blanket with you?” The tension between you and Jimin escalates with each word, hanging palpably in the cold air.

Without a pause for your response, he defies the silence, navigating over the center console with the same determined crawl you had exhibited moments before. The unspoken tension between you both amplifies, turning the confined space into an arena of silent rivalry.

Seated beside you, he makes a grab for the blanket cocooning your shivering form. Resolute, you refuse to surrender it, your hands engaging in a tug of war with him.

“Share, you brat,” he hisses with a mix of irritation and amusement, his determination evident in the forceful tug at the blanket.

“No!” you hiss back defiantly, the word laced with a stubborn refusal as you hold your ground.

With a forceful yank, he wrenches the blanket from your grasp, and in the struggle, he ends up with it draped across his lap. The victorious outcome of the skirmish leaves a charged atmosphere between you and Jimin, the warmth of the blanket now a coveted prize in his possession.

A triumphant smirk plays on his lips as he envelops himself in the captured blanket. His eyes lock onto your moping expression before descending further, a mischievous gleam indicating that his victory goes beyond the simple conquest of the blanket.

“I can totally see your nipples,” he chuckles.

You glance down, and sure enough, your nipples stand out against the satin material of your dress. Swiftly, you react, pressing your hands over your breasts in a sudden move to conceal their visibility.

“Why the fuck are you look at my tits?” you yell at him, your frustration audible, but he merely chuckles in response.

“You must really be freezing, huh?” he observes, and you simply nod in agreement, a silent acknowledgment of the biting cold that permeates the confined space.

“I can warm you up,” he suggests with a playful wink, both eyes and eyebrows conspiring in unison. The underlying implication of his words hangs in the air, and you instantly grasp the nature of his playful proposition.

“I'm not that desperate, Park,” you scoff with a hint of disgust, the rejection laced with a prideful undertone. In response, he simply chuckles, finding amusement in your candid dismissal.

Following his suggestive remark, an electric charge seems to surge through the atmosphere in the car. Your mind involuntarily races, envisioning the prospect of warming up next to him, his hands tracing every contour of your body, his di—

Stop. You admonish yourself sternly, a mental command to cease the vivid thoughts involving him. He's your enemy, you remind yourself, emphasizing the intense dislike you harbor for Park Jimin. The internal conflict heightens, the struggle between attraction and animosity weaving a complex web within your mind.

His chuckle resonates beside you, a sound that grates on your nerves. Irritation mounts, and you sharply turn your head towards him, your annoyance evident in the flicker of your gaze.

“Need help?” he inquires, his gaze suddenly deepening, the darkness in his eyes unveiling a subtle intensity that lingers in the air.

“With what?” you spit back at him, the confusion evident in your tone.

“You're grinding against the seat,” he bluntly points out, his gaze fixed on your crotch. You glance down, discovering your unconscious movement against the fabric of the seat. A sudden realization dawns, and an expletive slips from your lips.

A wave of discomfort washes over you, an intense desire to squirm and disappear into the ground, engulfed by the embarrassment that now saturates the air. The profound sense of shame hangs heavy, making the moment so excruciatingly humiliating.

You inhale sharply, drawing in a breath that seems to shudder through you, and with a deliberate move, you roll your hips once more.

“No…” you murmur, the word escaping with a shaky uncertainty that even your own ears can detect.

Jimin scoots closer to you, the warmth radiating from his body sending sparks that seem to dance through yours.

He leans into you, his mouth dangerously close to your ear, and in a breathy whisper, he offers, “I can help you with that.”

His words alone send a jolt through your body, a sudden tightening that ignites a fiery sensation. Damn it. The internal conflict and desire entwine, creating a tumultuous storm within you in the presence of him. It's undeniable—your entire being yearns for the touch you never thought you'd crave.

His warm hand finds its way to your thigh, and a low moan escapes your lips at the contact. Fuck.

His hand ventures down to the hem of your dress, grabbing and pulling it back to expose more of your thighs. A shiver runs down your spine as the cold air embraces your newly exposed skin, and a hiss escapes your lips. However, the sensation is quickly replaced by a different kind of warmth as his hand cups your clothed core. A breathless expletive escapes your lips, leaving your mind in a blissful blank state.

Instantly, you feel the warmth of his hand intimately against you, and your head falls back against the seat involuntarily. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you respond to the touch, unable to resist rolling your hips into the sensation.

“You’re needy,” he breathes against your ear, the words carrying a provocative weight that reverberates through you.

His warm breath sends a cascade of shivers down your spine, clouding your thoughts in a haze of desire. The desire for release intensifies, eclipsing any reservations you may have about seeking it from your mortal enemy.

“Shut up and just touch me,” you utter in frustration, the words punctuated by the deliberate grind of your hips into his hand, a desperate quest for any kind of friction. You're acutely aware of the desperation seeping through your actions, but at this moment, you don’t give a fuck.

And touch you he does. His fingers begin to rub your clit over the fabric of your panties, and you don't hold back your moans.

Your hips gyrate, a rhythmic dance in pursuit of your impending orgasm. The sensation builds rapidly, a cascade of pleasure on the brink. The question lingers in your mind—why does your body respond so eagerly to his touch?

He tugs your panties to the side, his touch on your clit eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. The warmth of his fingers against your skin amplifies the sensation, and you're already soaked.

“You're so wet already,” he chuckles against your ear, his lips teasingly grazing your skin. The desire to retaliate surges within you, but then, with a sudden and deliberate movement, one of his fingers enters your pussy, stealing your breath away.

He skillfully fingers you with one finger, the motion of his wrist simultaneously stroking against your clit, creating a sensation that's nothing short of delicious. The desire for more intensifies, an insatiable craving building within you.

“More,” you breathe, your voice escaping chapped and laden with a raw, lustful edge.

Jimin adds one more digit, and you relish in the precision with which he finds your soft spot, hitting it perfectly.

“Are you gonna come on my fingers?” he whispers in your ear, the suggestive question sending an instant jolt through your body, a yearning for more.

A throaty moan escapes your lips as you willingly spread your legs wider, granting him more space.

He deftly introduces a third finger into you, and you feel yourself losing control, swept away by the overwhelming pleasure. It's already so good—how is he so skilled with his fingers?

The way he skillfully uses his fingers inside you while simultaneously rubbing your clit with his wrist propels you relentlessly toward the precipice of climax. The knot in your stomach tightens, and you're on the verge of that intoxicating release.

“Jimin, fuck. I'm gonna come soon,” you pant, the urgency in your voice underscored by the rhythmic grind of your pussy against his hand.

He accelerates the pace of his fingers inside you, bringing you to the brink, but just as your body teeters on the edge of release, he abruptly withdraws his fingers and hand altogether.

His fingers and hand vanish, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. The abrupt absence intensifies the frustration and desire you feel surge through your body. Fuck!

Your legs tremble beneath you, and a frustrated hiss escapes your lips as you pant for breath.

“You didn't want to share the blanket,” he spews, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your evident frustration.

You're on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger. The desperate desire for release compounds the emotional turmoil within you. The audacity of him! The frustration boils over, cementing Jimin as nothing short of a fucking jerk in your mind.

“I'm not letting you come unless you beg for it,” he adds in a smug voice, a smirk playing on his lips as he purposefully puts some distance between you.

You can't believe him. The brink of pleasure was within reach—just a few more rubs and you would have unraveled on his fingers. The yearning is palpable, a frustrating ache that intensifies with each passing moment.

You growl at him, caught in a heated internal debate about whether to plead with him or not.

Your pussy clenches around emptiness, a visceral reminder of your desperation.

“Please, Jimin. Please let me come,” you implore, locking eyes with him and turning your body toward him. The desperation in your gaze is palpable. Almost inadvertently, you press your chest closer, your stiff nipples drawing his gaze downward.

He licks his lips teasingly, a wicked glint in his eyes, before seizing your hips and drawing you irresistibly toward him. With a swift yet controlled motion, he manipulates your body, guiding you to lie on the seat. As you settle into the unexpected position, he chuckles at the genuine confusion etched across your face.

“Because you asked so nicely,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and in a bold move, he shoves your dress up to your stomach. With swift precision, he snatches your panties, sliding them down your legs. “I'll give you what you want.”

He discards your panties with a deliberate flick, his focus unwavering as he plunges down to your throbbing pussy. There's no hesitation; he immediately delves into licking at your folds and clit with a hunger that matches your own.

Your body instinctively arches off the length of the seat, a wave of pleasure coursing through you. It feels unbelievably good. In the heat of the moment, your hands find his hair, fingers gripping and pulling at the strands, eliciting a guttural groan from him.

Your muscles tighten, and the echoes of the previous orgasm, forcefully ripped from you, return with an intensity that feels tenfold. Each breath is a furious pant as he continues to lap at your folds, the relentless pleasure building and intertwining with your gasps.

Then, with a skillful touch, he adds a finger to your clit, rubbing it in tantalizing circles. Your senses heighten, and just as you succumb to the pleasure, he skillfully continues to ravish your entrance with his tongue.

“Jimin!” you scream his name, a raw and unrestrained cry escaping your lips as you reach the peak of ecstasy on his tongue. Your body tightens, toes curling, and you involuntarily hitch your heels against his legs. In the throes of pleasure, your vision blurs, and you fight for air.

He chuckles, a throaty sound that reverberates in the aftermath of your high. Not giving you a moment to fully come down, he skillfully inserts two of his fingers inside you, drawing a hiss from your lips at the touch—your body rendered oversensitive.

He extends his fingers, proudly displaying them, glistening with your intimate juices. A wicked glint in his eyes, he issues a command, “Clean them.”

You meet his gaze defiantly, a spark of challenge in your eyes, before obediently rising to carry out his command. Taking hold of his hand, you sensually draw his slick digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them like a provocative dance. Your eyes lock onto his, witnessing the raw desire in his gaze as you release his fingers with an audible ‘pop’.

“I hate you,” you declare, breathless, the words carrying a mixture of frustration and desire. His response is a low chuckle, his perceptive gaze catching the teasing glint in your eyes.

He leans back, a provocative smirk playing on his lips, and starts palming himself through his dress pants. Your eyes involuntarily follow the movement of his hands, and a jolt of desire courses through you as you realize he's already rock hard. The unmistakable bulge strains against his pants, a visual testament to the arousal simmering between you two.

“I can help you with that,” you purr, a sultry promise lingering in your eyes, eager to reciprocate the pleasure.

He chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and smoothly turns his body to fully face you. With a teasing smirk, he unzips his pants, skillfully pulling down both his trousers and underwear enough to liberate his hardened dick.

His cock springs free, defiantly brushing against the bottom of his loosened tie, a sight that's undeniably tantalizing. Perfectly sculpted, it's veiny and slightly flushed at the tip, mirroring the allure of every inch of him. A surge of conflicting emotions overwhelms you – the hate, the desire, the acknowledgment of his undeniable appeal. You despise how effortlessly good-looking he is, from the tousled blonde locks to those lips you now crave to taste.

However, your gaze returns to his dick, noting its average size but with a satisfying girth that catches your attention. A subtle hint of anticipation flickers in your eyes, and your tongue instinctively darts out to moisten your lips.

“Then get to work,” he pants, a breathy command, as he sensually spreads his legs, creating an inviting space for you.

You descend eagerly, ensuring your mouth is generously coated with saliva before you engulf him, starting with just the tip.

He hisses the moment your lips meet his dick, his head instinctively colliding with the window behind him, an involuntary exclamation escaping, “Ah, fuck.”

You engulf more of him, your mouth descending entirely, and the sound of his primal moan reverberates in response. You add a sultry hum, a note of satisfaction coursing through you.

You initiate a slow, deliberate pace, skillfully sucking him off, and anything beyond your mouth's capacity, you sensually stroke with your hand.

His hands seek out your hair, effortlessly capturing the neatly arranged high ponytail that he grasps with a possessive confidence.

You revel in the subtle tension, accelerating your descent on him with a newfound urgency. Your tongue skillfully traces intricate patterns, dancing across his tip and the sensitive folds of his frenulum.

He moans in ecstasy as you withdraw with a satisfying ‘pop,’ only to treat the head of his throbbing dick like a tempting lollipop, your tongue swirling around it with deliberate sensuality.

As you glance up at him, he appears utterly lost in the moment. His eyes, once vibrant, are now dilated orbs of desire, his parted lips releasing audible breaths. The state of bliss enveloping him transforms his features into a breathtaking display of vulnerability and beauty.

You envelop him once more, relishing the subtle tremor that courses through him, a tangible response to the sensations you're skillfully orchestrating with your lips and tongue.

He yanks you away from him, his voice a raw whisper laden with desire, “I want to fuck you.”

You prop yourself up, captivated by the transformation before you. The usual arrogant Park Jimin is replaced by this vulnerable, needy version, and against your better judgment, a desperate craving for him builds inside you. You ache for him to consume you entirely.

A mischievous smirk plays on your lips as you echo his earlier taunts, “Beg for it,” you challenge, aware of the palpable tension between you, a shared desire pulsating in the charged air.

A low, throaty chuckle escapes him as his fingers glide through the tousled strands of his blonde hair, a mixture of frustration and amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re really a fucking brat,” he hisses, a smirk playing on his lips.

He sits up, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he sheds his open jacket, the confined warmth of the car now turning uncomfortably sweltering. You can't help but acknowledge the irony; at least you're not freezing anymore, which, after all, was the primary objective of this unexpected detour, wasn't it?

“Please let me fuck you,” his plea hangs in the air, a desperate echo of your own request, and you can't help but chuckle, slowly crawling closer to him.

“Turn around, let me straddle you. Leaning against the headrest will give us more space,” you suggest, and he shifts in an instant, his arousal evident in the casual sway of his dick with each movement.

Then you confidently straddle him, your hand instinctively reaching for his dick, guiding him to align perfectly with your eager entrance.

Before you lower yourself onto him, you sensually trail his dick through your wetness, relishing in the intimate friction. A moan escapes your lips as you then descend onto his lap in one smooth, sultry motion.

The exquisite stretch sends a shiver down your spine, and he effortlessly glides in, eliciting a breathless ‘Fuck!’ from your lips.

As your hands find their place on his shoulders for support, his eyes, now hooded, follow your every movement as you begin to ride him with a rhythm that echoes the passion pulsing between you.

You pant furiously, your breath hot against his face. The sensation of him inside you is nothing short of heavenly, an electrifying connection that feels as if every contour of him aligns perfectly with every curve of your pussy.

“Ah,” ecstasy courses through you with each fervent bounce on his throbbing length, a harmonious rhythm of pleasure escaping your lips in breathless gasps.

“You’re so tight,” his ragged breaths synchronize with the rhythmic clench of your walls, his hands anchoring to your hips, adding an electrifying intensity to each blissful plunge into your velvet warmth.

Between gasps, you manage to growl, “Fuck. I hate you,” only to be met with his deep, throaty chuckle as he continues the relentless rhythm of his thrusts, each one a tumultuous clash of conflicting desires.

Amidst heavy breaths, he accuses, “I know you're lying,” his words punctuated by the rhythmic tempo of his panting. Undeterred, he leans in for a searing kiss, his lips caressing yours with a softness akin to pillows. Your defenses crumble as you melt into his touch, tongues colliding in a fervent dance that defies the lingering tension.

“Why is it that you feel so damn good?” you gasp, interrupting the kiss only to plunge back into its intoxicating depths. Each moment spent in his embrace feels like a surrender to a passionate whirlwind. His every thrust reverberates through you, sending electrifying shivers down your spine, an exquisite dance of pleasure and desire that you find impossible to resist.

“Perhaps I should prolong your climax, just as you did to me?” you purr with a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, resurrecting the playful brat within you.

He chuckles, his hands leaving the curve of your hips to gracefully undo his tie at his neck. Your gaze fixates on him, observing each deliberate move as he frees himself from the constriction of the tie, all while you continue to ride him with an unabashed hunger.

“You really are a fucking brat,” he mutters, the corners of his lips quirking into a sly smile as he pulls off his tie. “Now, shut up,” he commands, silencing any potential retorts by expertly stuffing the tie into your open, protesting mouth.

You yield to the makeshift gag, sinking your teeth into the fabric, muffling the symphony of your own desperate moans.

A smirk plays on his lips as his hands reclaim your hips, commanding, “Now take it like the fucking brat that you are.”

His movements become a relentless rhythm, thrusting deep inside you. All you can do is cling to his shoulders, swept away by the force of his desire.

Ecstasy courses through you, and you can't help but moan into the fabric of his tie. It feels too damn good to contain.

His voice drips with satisfaction as he senses your walls tightening around him, and a smug grin plays on his lips. “You like that, huh?”

A guttural moan escapes your lips in response, the crescendo of pleasure building, and you sense the impending climax drawing near.

“Fuck yourself on my dick,” his command hangs in the air, thick with desire, as his hands abandon your hips, embarking on a journey down your back. With a swift motion, he unzips your dress, letting it cascade down your shoulders.

Your naked breasts dances to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, an erotic ballet of passion and desire.

“Fuck. You’re not wearing a bra, just like I thought,” his eyes widen in delighted surprise, a devilish grin playing on his lips. His hands eagerly exploring the contours of your exposed tits.

His words hang in the air, sending a shiver down your spine. “Your tits are beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns around your stiffened nipples. Your body reacts instinctively, a primal moan escaping through the tie as desire courses through you.

Every grind and movement becomes a challenge as he expertly tweaks and pulls at your nipples, sending waves of pleasure and distraction through your body. You fight to maintain a rhythm, desperately trying to pleasure yourself on his dick amidst the electrifying sensations dancing across your chest.

As your walls clench around him, a whirlwind of sensations floods your body, signaling that the peak of pleasure is just a breath away. Every nerve is on edge, and the anticipation of an imminent climax tingles through you, a storm about to erupt.

As he skillfully massages your tits, he breathlessly teases, “You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” his words send shivers down your spine, intensifying the pleasure that's building within you.

With a fervent nod, you surrender to the sensations, your muffled moans echoing through the tie as pleasure courses through every inch of your being.

As he plunges into you, he urges you with a guttural command, “Cream my cock, brat.” The raw desire in his voice fuels the intensity of your connection, igniting a blaze of passion.

Overwhelmed by desire, his dick finding every exquisite spot within you, you unleash a guttural moan, your pleasure echoing into the fabric of the tie as you climax on his pulsating cock.

Jimin's fingers twist around your hardened nipples, sending electric shocks of ecstasy through your body. A guttural exclamation escapes your lips, muffled by the tie, as pleasure courses through every fiber of your being.

He pounds into you relentlessly, the rhythm building towards an intense climax. His hands firmly grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he desperately seeks his own release.

He reaches the peak of ecstasy, his body shuddering with the force of his release as he spills into the warmth of your pussy.

Heaving for breath, the silence between you two speaks volumes, a shared understanding lingering in the air as you descend from the euphoric heights of your climaxes.

Collapsing onto his chest, you revel in the soothing aftermath, liberated from the restraint of his tie. As his body relaxes within you, the intimacy lingers, a tangible connection forged in the heat of passion.

His lips graze your neck with a gentle touch, igniting a cascade of thoughts about the significance behind this tender gesture.

As laughter fills the air, shattering the lingering tension, your attention shifts to the foggy windows and the oppressive heaviness in the car, making each breath a deliberate act.

As you hastily redress, Jimin slips into his jacket and steps out of the car, retrieving your coat from the trunk. With a gentle handoff, he passes it to you, and you quickly slip into its comforting warmth.

“Thank you,” your gratitude escapes in a hushed whisper, laden with a touch of bewilderment. The encounter, while undeniably electrifying, leaves you grappling with conflicting emotions. It's Park Jimin, your sworn adversary, and the intensity of the shared moment hangs between you, a paradox of pleasure and rivalry.

“You’re welcome,” his response carries a self-assured smirk, echoing the lingering traces of the shared intimacy. As he confidently returns to the driver's seat, you mirror his actions, settling into the passenger's seat, both enveloped in a charged silence that speaks volumes.

The snowfall has eased, no longer as relentless as before. A subtle nostalgia creeps in as you reflect on his desire to keep you warm. The gentle flakes now fall, leaving you yearning for the lingering warmth of his touch.

As he revs the engine to life, a gust of chilly air sweeps through the car, causing you to emit an involuntary grunt. His chuckle fills the cabin, accompanied by a smirk and a teasing wink. “I can warm you up anytime,”

You shoot him a moping gaze, wondering if he has a knack for deciphering your thoughts. Can he sense the magnetic pull, the unspoken attraction that mirrors your own inner turmoil?

You return his smile, a silent agreement resonating between you as he steers the car forward, setting the wheels and unspoken possibilities in motion.

Three hours fashionably late, you finally arrive at Seokjin's Christmas party. The distant hum of music greets you as you step out of the car, signaling that the celebration is already in full swing.

As you rap your knuckles against the door, you steal a glance at Jimin who's busy adjusting his attire. His fingers deftly tighten the knot of his tie, and his pants get a quick, inconspicuous tug into place.

As Seokjin swings the door open, a tantalizing waft of mouthwatering aromas envelops your senses, instantly sparking a smile on your face.

Seokjin's laughter echoes as he playfully accuses, “You fucked Jimin!” and your jaw drops in disbelief to the floor.

877 notes · View notes