#I mean I still love the show and always will
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dear-ao3 · 1 day ago
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I know you're probably going to be getting a lot of political asks these next few days, or atleast some. But I feel like I have to remind everyone DO NOT GIVE UP. A recount was called this morning at 9:00 AM Est, 20 million votes still haven't been counted, there has been evidence of Trump CHEATING in this election. Swing states were targeted in election bomb threats, so not everyone was able to vote yesterday. There's counties here in GA that never got their mail-ins and voting periods had to be extended.
THIS ISN'T THE END YET.
And even if it is, even if Trump wins, we need to keep living. Living out of spite is enough. Living for love is enough. Living because of a silly little fanart is enough. We need to prove that just because they don't want us, that it means we'll suddenly disappear. We won't. We'll always be here, they can't get rid of us no matter how much they want too. Keep living, show them that they can't make us disappear.
weirdly we have not gotten a lot of political asks but this is true! keep your heads up kids! reguardless of what happens! we have to keep living!
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bitchlessdino · 2 days ago
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mind your business (m)
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Pairing: Frenemy!fem!reader x minder reader!chan
Genre: supernatural comedy, smut
Word count: 12.4k
tags: mean!reader, mean!chan, mentions needing to puke or die (both overdramtic af), implied consent (mind reading about desire and wants without audible consent), names (good girl or dirty girl), claustrophilia, stocking ripping, fingering, cunniligus, rough sex, brief spanking, unprotected sex.
Summary: If Chan had to read anyone’s mind, it had to be yours—the one person who seemed to loathe him with every ounce of your being. But before Halloween day, when that wish is suddenly granted, he begins to realize he’s opened a can of worms far bigger than he ever imagined—one that can’t be sealed shut again.
author note: hello, this bitch late but at least she's here thank you for @diamonddaze01 and @haologram for betareading for me i love yall and eveyone else enjoy!
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys
“I don’t know what to be for Halloween.”
“Well, right now what you’re wearing is pretty scary.”
Lee Chan had never met anyone he couldn’t knock down a peg—not that he ever had to try. Everyone adored him, from classmates to coworkers, even Seungkwan, who followed his playful jabs with free lunches instead of a comeback. He was easygoing, always getting along with everyone. That is until you infiltrated his friend group. You weren’t like the others, and for the first time, Chan wasn’t sure if his effortless charm would be enough to dissolve your natural snark.
Chan shot you an unamused smile, his eyes narrowing as you answered his question. The two costumes he held drooped at his sides, a patient frustration written all over his features. “What are you even doing here if you won’t help me?”
You lifted your half-filled glass, the chill of the drink seeping through your fingers. “The free drinks, of course.”
“Of course,” he echoed dryly, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Well, maybe leave the opinions to those who actually care, like Soonyoung here?”
Soonyoung beamed up at Chan, his excitement bubbling over as he playfully tugged at his friend’s hand like an overly enthusiastic toddler. “Aww, always here for you, buddy!”
You couldn’t resist a jab. “Well, if you did something interesting for once in your life, maybe I wouldn’t have to entertain myself.”
Chan groaned, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Never mind. I’m just going to pick something else. Make yourself useful and try to stay quiet, okay?”
You scoffed, getting up from the sofa seat. “Whatever. I’m gonna find something to eat.”
Chan tried his best to stay positive around you, but it was difficult when every social encounter turned into a game of mental chess. But instead of being an actual opponent, you acted like the master, playing with his temperament as if he were merely a pawn. It was exhausting—trying to keep things cordial while knowing you were always pushing his buttons, testing tolerance, and working against him as if your sarcastic replies and eyerolls carried a vindictive purpose.
Chan collapsed onto his bed the moment you left the room, feeling completely defeated. Now, it was just him and Soonyoung left to figure out what he should wear for Halloween, mere days away from now.
“Why is she always like that?” he muttered, focused on the wrong thing,
Soonyoung shrugged, scooting beside you with his legs crossed on the bed. “I’m sure she means well; she just has…her own way of showing it.”
Chan sat up, looking at him in disbelief. “She’s hated me since the moment we met at the New Year’s party, and I still don’t get why.”
“That’s not true.” Soonyoung reassured, gently patting his friend on the head. “Maybe your personalities just clash a bit. She gets along with everyone else in the building.”
“Yeah, but why?” Chan sighed. “What did I even do?”
Soonyoung gave him a reassuring pat. “Chan, it’s not your fault. I’m sure she’ll come around eventually.”
The more people like Soonyoung, or Seokmin, or Jeonghan reassured him that you’d come around, the less Chan believed it. It seemed like there would be nothing that could change your mind about him. Yet he couldn’t just accept that you disliked him for no reason. There had to be something behind the mean exterior, the jabs directed at either his character or even looks. Like he’s some kind of pushover. He would spend entire days wracking his brain, trying to understand why, and nothing would make sense. 
What made it worse was how much it bothered him—maybe because you saw each other almost daily, living in the same neighborhood. You’d grown close to everyone else like you were a permanent fixture here, but when it came to him, it felt like you went out of your way to get under his skin. Your cold glances, your sharp remarks, all seemed to gnaw at him, twisting him up inside like a steel knife in an already gashing wound (okay, maybe he was being dramatic). He just couldn’t stand it.
If he could, he’d look right into your mind, figure out what you were thinking, make sense of your actions, and—just maybe—finally understand why you behave the way you do.
But he didn’t have time to dwell on it; there was a Halloween party to plan. Every year, the local gaming café downstairs—where he’d ironically ended up working at—hosted a Halloween bash with exclusive promotions. And every year, it was followed by a more exclusive all-out rager at his apartment, which he shared with a bunch of his friends above the cafe. It was something nearly everyone on the block looked forward to each year, and this time, Chan was in charge of the activities. The activities coordinator, Seungcheol had proclaimed.
That’s why Chan has been asking for all kinds of opinions lately, even yours. Being the natural people-pleaser he is, he felt as if he’d been running around everywhere to get everyone’s stamp of approval. He would go up and down, left and right, and even hold surveys at the cash register for strangers' opinions. He had a habit of making things perfect, and he wasn’t going to let your cynicism ruin it for him.
“Come on, help me figure out what to wear, bro. My night depends on it.”
Soonyoung had been helpful—thank goodness for that—and now that was one less problem to worry about, Chan felt a bit of relief. If he could just get through his shift at the cafe without losing his mind and manage to sneak in some few minutes of party planning, he would have a good day.
“You figure out what costume makes you look less of a loser, yet? Trick question, it really doesn’t matter what you pick. You’ll still look like a loser.”
Chan tilted his head, unfazed by your rude comments as he poured his tenth cup of ramen for the night—three of them for the same customer. “Why do you care? Don’t you have some puppies to kick?”
Your smile remained unfaltering, conniving as ever. “I cleared my schedule to help Seokmin and Soonyoung rank up. Wonwoo is playing with them this round. Just here to grab some Kickstart.”
“Ah, so another puppy is safe for a day from the wicked Witch of the West. Congratulations on your fleeting moment of decency.” He turned, striding over to the customers waiting for their ramen, while you annoyingly trailed closely behind. You grabbed your favorite blackberry Kickstart from the fridge, the bright can a stark contrast to the dim lighting of the café, and tossed a couple of crumpled bills in the direction of the cash register as if you’d done it before.
“You’re helping plan the Halloween party, right? Seungcheol mentioned it when I asked what I should bring,” you said, your tone almost too casual, as if you were friends.
Chan scoffed, carefully setting the steaming bowls of ramen down in front of the waiting customers before heading back to his station. “You, being courteous? That’s new. What do you want?”
With a sly smile, you leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I just wanted to let you know that if you really want to make the party fun, you can ask me. My ideas will probably be better than whatever you come up with.” The confidence in your voice made it clear you expected him to take you seriously, but how could he when every little word you managed to muster was belittling?
Chan grit his teeth, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. He unscrewed the cap of a water bottle from the fridge and downed it in one swift gulp, the cool liquid barely offering any relief from his irritation. As he crushed the empty bottle in his hands, he aimed for the trash can but missed, the bottle clattering to the floor with a dull thud. Sounding exasperated, he bent down to pick it up, tossing it into the can with a bit more force than necessary.
Straightening up, he shot you a sharp glare. “I can handle it myself, thanks,” he muttered, his voice tight with annoyance.
“Really? Because I’m offering my help here,” you replied, your tone dripping with an offensive amount of condescending sincerity. “I’m being generous with my time and giving you the chance to create something…well, palatable from this party.” You exaggeratedly pretended to choose your words carefully, a teasing smile playing on your lips, poking at his alleged incompetence.
“You want to help?” Chan challenged, his tone cutting. “How about just enjoying the party instead of making it all about yourself? Some of us actually have work to do.”
He fixed you with a glare that held the slightest hint of malice before finally turning away and returning to his tasks.
“Defensive much?” you shot back, a glimpse of interest on your face as you raised an eyebrow.
“No,” he replied, his voice firm. “Just self-respecting.”
“Fine,” you said, turning back to your friends as you walked away. “Just don’t come begging for my help when your party goes to shit.”
Chan found himself screaming into his pillows that night, the fabric muffling his frustrated cries as he banged his head against them in sheer exasperation.
“What the heck is her deal?” he murmured to himself, his voice muffled and thick with irritation. He buried his face deeper into the pillows, desperate to escape the relentless thoughts fogging in his mind. The familiar scent of cotton and fabric softener offered very little comfort as he replayed the interaction over and over, making him as puzzled as ever.
He hadn’t experienced bullying like this since high school, a time when everyone was preoccupied with either being popular or getting into the best colleges. He was neither; instead, he was a secret third option: just trying to survive.
“Always making fun of me. Always belittling me. Always making me feel like crap.” He pulled the covers over his eyes, seeking refuge from his loud thoughts. “Why can’t she just tell me what I did to make her hate me? I’m not a mind reader.”
Unable to sleep, Chan gazed up at the night sky through his bedroom window, seeing it enveloped in the vast pitch-blackness pressing down like a weight. He took a steadying breath, hoping to clear his mind. Not a single star graced him with its presence—only the lone moon, barely there but still noticeable—how relatable—hanging in the sky like a quiet witness to his restless thoughts.
“I’m going insane here, so if there’s a god out there, could he—or she—make my life easier for the next few days? Just a little?” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not asking for superpowers like telepathy or anything. Just…let me pull off a party that everyone actually enjoys. Even her. Maybe then she won’t be so…her all the time.”
It was wishful thinking, but worth a shot, and if Chan was known for anything, it was taking chances—no matter how slim the odds.
Chan was somehow able to sleep that night finally, hair straying all over his face, until he sat up at the realization of a lack of a blaring alarm, “Oh, shit.”
His phone battery had died, and his charger defective and rendered useless. He scrambled to Seungcheol’s room next door, avoiding the obstacles of his shirts strewn across the floor, and plugged the bead phone to his housemate’s charger, impatiently tapping until the phone lit up to greet him.
9:48. Just about 18 minutes before his morning shift starts and almost no time to get ready. “Shit, shit.”
‘What’s that noise?’
Chan glanced over at Seungcheol, who was sprawled out across his bed, a half-conscious casualty of the previous night’s escapades. It seemed he’d had company, judging by the tangled mess of clothes scattered on the floor, and apparently, they'd had more than just a “decent” time.
“Sorry, Cheol. Gotta borrow your charger. I’ll bring it back later.”
Seungcheol’s response was a muffled groan, his arm barely twitching in acknowledgment. Within the incoherent noise, Chan could just make out the unspoken message: ‘Just go away.’
“Got it, see you at work, buddy,” Chan muttered, plugging in his phone with a quick tap to check the time before heading for the door.
Another groan drifted from the bed, thick with irritation. ‘So loud.’
Chan got himself ready in a hurry, forgoing a shower and compensating with an extra-long brush of his teeth and a thick layer of deodorant. Fresh breath and a quick spritz of cologne would have to do for today. The cafe would be filled with people who wouldn’t care anyway.
He rushed downstairs to clock in, throwing on an apron over his lackluster clothes and prepping the makeshift kitchen in the back.
‘Ugh, my back is killing me.’
Chan turned at the faint sound of a familiar voice, spotting Minghao slouched in one of the worn chairs in the employees-only room, head leaned back, eyes half-closed in what looked like exhaustion.
“Hey, Hao. You okay?”
Minghao glanced up, his face breaking into a grin that seemed a bit forced, but reassuring nonetheless. “Morning, Chan. Yeah, I’m good. What’s up?”
“Just checking in—I thought I heard you say something about your back?”
Minghao’s grin faded into a puzzled expression, brow furrowing as if he were rewinding through his own memory. “Hmm? I didn’t say anything. But… Now that you mention it, my back has been sore lately. All the competitions piling up, you know? Guess martial arts are starting to weigh down on this old, elderly body of mine.” He chuckled at his own self-deprecating joke.
Chan gave a sympathetic nod. “Well, if you need a break, just take one, alright? I’m sure Seungcheol or Jeonghan wouldn’t mind.”
Minghao’s smile softened. “Thanks, little buddy. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Chan smiled back. “Anytime.”
As Chan turned to leave, he heard a voice, faint but unmistakable, despite the owner of the voice being in the same room: ‘Chan’s a good kid.’ 
He paused mid-step, his eyes widening as he processed the thought, lingering in the air like a distant echo. He looked back at Minghao, eyebrows knit in confusion. “Did…did you just say something?”
Minghao chuckled, giving him a casual wave as if everything were normal. “No? I’ll be out in a sec. How about you go warm up the coffee pot for me, hmm?”
“Got it…” Chan said, hesitating as he walked out, still glancing over his shoulder, his mind racing with questions. Had he really heard that voice? Or was exhaustion playing tricks on him? 
He flipped the cash register on, the familiar hum filling the quiet of the early morning. Chan meticulously counted the bills, making sure he had the right amount of change and neatly stacked cash, each dollar lined up perfectly. Once satisfied, he moved to the glass door, flicking the open sign to life with a soft click. The neon light flickered, casting a bright and loud, welcoming invitation to anyone passing by. Chan took a deep breath, feeling the calm before the inevitable rush.
‘I hope they have the good ramen and not that crappy store brand shit. You can totally tell the difference.’
The voice drifted into Chan’s mind, oddly clear and distinct as if someone were speaking right beside him—except no one was there. The words had a casual, almost lazy tone, echoing in his head like the distant buzz of a radio left on in another room. His gaze darted around the empty shop, his pulse quickening as he scanned the quiet space, lit only by the harsh glow of the neon open sign.
He shook his head, trying to dismiss it, but the words still lingered, as if they were waiting for him to acknowledge them. This voice, like Minghao’s earlier, felt close yet completely detached, belonging to someone…elsewhere.
The chimes on the door jingled, pulling Chan from his thoughts as he glanced up to see a familiar figure. Finally, he could match the voice he’d been hearing to a face.
“Hey, Chan. The usual, please,” Beomgyu greeted, his tone dry, with the same dark circles under his eyes from late-night gaming marathons.
‘Is it me, or does he look shittier than usual?’ The words echoed in Chan’s mind, clear as if spoken aloud, though Beomgyu’s lips never moved. Chan froze, the unexpected comment hitting him square in the chest—both offending and unnerving him.
“Excuse me?” Chan retorted, defensively narrowing his eyes.
Beomgyu blinked, looking slightly taken aback. “Uh… the usual? Kimchi ramen with cheese and a Cherry slush?”
‘Man, hasn’t he worked here for, like, a year? Doesn’t he have this down by now?’
“What? Of course, I do!” Chan shot back, his voice sharp with irritation.
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, now clearly baffled. “Dude, what are you talking about? Just give me my stuff.”
Chan swallowed, feeling a strange tension creeping over him. He forced himself to look down, suddenly unsure whether he was hearing Beomgyu–or actually going insane.
“Right. Sorry. It'll be out in a second,” Chan mumbled, suddenly sheepish as he accepted the cash, his usual confidence thrown off-kilter.
Beomgyu gave him a lingering, puzzled look before shrugging it off and drifting over to his usual seat in the corner. As he walked away, Chan felt an odd prickling sensation in the back of his mind—the familiar voice filtering through, more unsettling this time.
‘Has he gone psycho or something?’
Chan’s heart skipped, his eyes widening slightly as he processed the words that had somehow entered his mind, clear as day, despite Beomgyu’s silent, closed lips. His fingers clenched the counter as he steadied himself, wondering if he was finally cracking under the stress or if something far stranger was at play.
‘Another day, another W!’
Another voice then grew louder, closer, and was growing more anxious, sweat beading down his forehead out of bewilderment. What in the fuck was happening?
Seokmin emerged from the doors, seeing Chan with a bright smile as he leaned up against the counter. “Hi Chan, a couple of sprites and two orders of rose spicy rice cakes please.”
‘I’ma burn through iron into silver today. I just know it!’
Chan’s hands hovered over the register, a sense of déjà vu creeping over him as he felt the words echo in his mind. His fingers shook slightly as he pressed the buttons. “Y-you trying to rank up in Overwatch again today?” he asked, his voice a little unsteady.
Seokmin laughed, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah! Wonwoo and Jeonghan are coming by to play on their day off.”
‘Ooh, I should check if they have that series in stock again. I missed it last time.’
“What series were you looking for again?” Chan asked, trying to keep his tone casual as he glanced up from the register.
Seokmin blinked, a little startled, clearly wondering how Chan had guessed. “Oh yeah, I was gonna ask about it. What was it called again?” ‘Kindergarden wars–’
“Kindergarten Wars, right? The Kindergarten Cop of Manga? That one?” Chan asked, his voice coming out a bit too smooth for his own comfort.
Seokmin’s eyes widened in surprise, a laugh escaping him. “Whoa, I just barely remembered the title! You’re on a roll, buddy. But yeah, that’s the one! Do you have it in stock?”
“Yeah, we should have a few copies in. I’ll grab one for you when your order’s ready,” Chan replied, managing a grin, though stark comparison to the panic festering in his body.
"Aw, you’re the best, Chan. Thanks!” Seokmin flashed a wide grin as he swiped his card, practically bouncing toward his usual corner. He arranged a couple of chairs, setting up a cozy little space for his friends, buzzing around like a busy bee as he prepped the area, clearly itching to dive into his day.
Meanwhile, Chan’s nerves were going through it. He kept glancing at the entrance, anxiety creeping up his spine as he wondered if the next person through the door would, once again, broadcast their every thought straight into his head. Just thinking about it made him want to puke, the effects of the bizarre events not dissipating in the slightest.
The rest of Chan’s day became a relentless cascade of intrusive thoughts, each one amplifying the disquiet simmering inside him. Every new customer brought a fresh wave of private musings, some harmless, others startlingly personal, or worse yet, straight creepy. The sheer volume of it all began to blur together into an overwhelming hum.
‘Fuck not again.’
‘Hell yeah, a new skin!’
‘He’s so annoying I wish he would just die already.’
‘I swear, they said ‘one more game’ like an hour ago.’
‘They’re all trash. Worthless. I’m surrounded by idiots who can’t play for shit.’
‘They won’t last. She’ll cheat on him, or he’ll leave her. It’s inevitable.’
The familiar buzz of the cafe felt unusually oppressive, almost suffocating, as Chan struggled to tune out the voices around him. He found himself straining to differentiate between what was actually spoken and what slipped uninvited into his mind, the line between reality and thought as thin as it was maddening.
"Hey, Hao, I’m gonna take five."
Chan didn’t wait for a reply. He bolted out of the business and up the narrow staircase to his residence, his pulse hammering in his ears. The familiar murmur of echoing voices trailed him, each step feeling heavier than the last, the whispers chasing him even as he tried to leave them behind. It wasn't until he closed the door with a soft but resolute click that they faded, now hushed but still there. Haunting him.
“What the hell is happening to me?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the echo of voices still faintly buzzing in his mind. His hands tightened in his hair, fingers digging in as if grounding himself might silence the flood.
He shut his eyes, breathing in uneven breaths as he clamped his hands over his ears and somehow soothing the thoughts determined to run rampant. But every time he let his guard down, snippets of thought would slip through—fragmented phrases, stray judgments, random anxieties—taking up headspace like ghosts he couldn’t shake. 
‘Why does he get everything? It should be me.’
‘The world would be better off without most of them, if not all.’
‘Where the hell is my ramen?’
‘I hope I didn’t get stood up. I sent her Uber money.’
Nothing about this made sense. It was impossible—just yesterday, his life had been normal, and now he was hearing voices that sounded exactly like his friends’ private thoughts, whether he wanted to or not. This wasn’t some supernatural CW drama, no Halloween special with a secret message all along for the protagonist. This was real life, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear he was somehow…reading minds.
The thought sparked a fresh jolt of panic, twisting his insides into knots. It was a fear he hadn’t known lurked within him, clawing its way to the surface and leaving his stomach churning. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to force it away, to dismiss it as some ridiculous, passing delusion. But the voices only grew louder, like an insistent, rising tide that wouldn’t let him brush this off as a mere joke or a temporary glitch in the simulation. No, they clung to him, refusing to fade—unyielding, pressing against his mind as if daring him to question his own sanity.
Then there was a knock. Soft at first, followed by the hesitant creak of the door easing open. Chan barely registered it, too consumed by the relentless flood of thoughts racing through his head, repeating to himself, “You’re not real, you’re not real…”
“Chan?”
His eyes flew open, finally taking in the figure silhouetted in the doorway—you. Your expression was a blend of concern and hesitation as you stepped cautiously into his room. A pang of surprise coursed through him, igniting a spark of defensiveness that flared to life within him, seeing you making the weight on his head worse. He forced himself to hold your gaze, feeling exposed under the weight of your possible scrutiny. “W-what do you want?” he stammered, the words escaping him in apprehension.
You raised an eyebrow, though your usual edge seemed softened. “Minghao asked me to come get you. He’s worried. Looks like he was right—finally lost your mind, or something?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he hissed, barely keeping his voice steady.
You raised an eyebrow. “Chan—”
“Save it.” He cut you off, his tone sharp, eyes narrowing as he took a half-step back, almost as if he expected you to throw something back his way. Just as you always have. “I’m not gonna take whatever crap you’re planning, so if that’s your game, just forget it.”
You blinked, caught off guard, a flash of irritation tightening your expression. “Wow,” you muttered, crossing your arms with a look that was half offense, half amusement. “Who the hell pissed in your cereal?”
“I’m not feeling well, alright? And you don’t make it any easier. If you think I’m going to keep letting you walk all over me, forget it. Go pick on someone else.”
“Wow, look at you finally picking up your backbone from the floor,” you taunted, slowly closing the distance between you. Your voice dripped with mockery as you studied him, taking in the tense lines of his posture and the way his jaw clenched in irritation. “If this is about the party, the offer still stands. I know what I said, but—”
“But nothing. I didn’t need your help then, and I don’t need it now. Just piss off.” His voice cut through the air, sharp and defensive, as if he was trying to shield himself from your probing.
“Ooh, look at you using big words,” you snickered tilting your head as you leaned in slightly, your eyes narrowing in challenge. “Is all the stress of pleasing everyone finally catching up to you? Or are you just realizing you’re not capable of doing something that requires responsibility?”
Chan stepped closer, piercing through you with a sharp glare as your smile broadened, infused with a stubborn determination that only irritated him further. No matter what he said, you remained resolute, and he could sense his resolve beginning to crack under the weight of your taunts, struggling to maintain his composure.
“Or,” he began, feeling the voice in his head finally recede as a surge of courage washed over him. “I have so much of my own shit going on. Ever thought about that? Now, why don't you turn around and mind your goddamn business before  I should teach you how to shut up while I’m at it.” The dominance in his tone surprised even him, and for the first time, he felt like he was finally in control of himself and his newfound ability.
You hesitated, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes, the way it deepened the timbre of his voice, radiating uncontainable energy you’d never seen from Chan before. The confidence that once danced in your gaze faltered, giving way to a glint of surprise as you struggled to hold onto your composure. Your lips parted slightly, words caught in your throat as you processed his unexpected boldness—and the effect it was having on you.
‘Holy shit.’
Your voice echoed in his mind, sending a thrill through him as his lips stretched from ear to ear menacingly. Finally—finally—he was the one with the upper hand.
“What? Nothing to say now?” he challenged, relishing the moment.
‘Holy shit, he’s so hot when he’s mad.’
Confusion softened his features for a brief moment, and he couldn’t help but let out a, “What?”
“I…I didn’t say anything.”
‘Oh god, am I sweating? Can he smell me? Holy shit, he’s so close to me right now.’
Chan wasn’t sure what he was hearing right now. Especially whatever this was. His mind was already spinning from the obnoxiously loud and relentless voices echoing in his head from earlier—this was something else. The anxiety of your voice in his head, laced with something vulnerable he’s never seen in you before, threw him off-kilter. He felt heat creep into his cheeks as he processed the stray thoughts that weren’t his own, thoughts that broke through the background noise with an unexpected force.
He drew in a breath, barely steady, as he took in every flicker of your expression—the way your lips quivered as if on the edge of saying something, then closed again, and how your gaze dropped just briefly, as if to gather strength, before lifting to meet his, defiant but with a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. That simmering frustration from earlier dissolved, replaced by a charged curiosity that spread through him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, letting his words roll out slowly, teasingly, testing the waters of this sudden change in power.
You glanced up, eyes widening slightly as if caught off guard, your shoulders tensing as though bracing against an invisible force. He could practically feel the hurried, jumbled thoughts in your head racing, flickering across your face—hesitation, curiosity, that rare glint of resolve that never seemed to completely fade. It was almost…endearing.
The moment felt charged, like standing on the brink of something electrifying and forbidden. Chan found himself leaning into it, savoring the way his voice dropped, roughened, responding instinctively to this unguarded version of you.
“What?” he murmured, his smile laced with challenge. “Cat got your tongue?”
You drew in a slow breath, fingers clutching the doorframe behind you as if anchoring yourself, your gaze flickering from his face to his hands and then back again, as though the very air around you had thinned. 
"Just…” Your voice faltered, lingering in the air, yet you held his gaze, a reluctant tension in your eyes, as if resisting an urge falling deep down a pit you’ve already managed to avoid for so long.
“Just what?” he pressed, amusement saturating his tone, relishing in your timid silence.
You hesitated, pressing your lips together before looking away. “Just… get back to work,” you muttered, fingers clenching the door frame for a moment before finally releasing it as you turned to go.
‘That…was crazy.’
Chan watched you leave, barely holding back a grin as a strange, exhilarating sense of control lingered. For the first time, he felt like he had turned the tables. This bizarre predicament suddenly had its perks.
As the thought settled, another realization dawned: maybe these powers—or whatever they were—could be harnessed. And you, of all people, might just be the key. Finally, it seemed you had some use after all.
The rest of the day passed with surprising ease, a sense of control settling over Chan as he slowly came to terms with this new ability. Whatever this was, if it meant you kept your distance and stayed in check, now it was about time you tasted a bit of your own medicine.
Meanwhile, you kept to the far side of the room, throwing him occasional glances that were equal parts wary and curious, as if still processing the shift that had unfolded between you. The quiet in your demeanor was foreign—almost like a subtle retreat—but Chan could still hear every single thought racing through your mind, echoing around him, feeding his ego.
‘Fuck, why is he looking at me like that?’
The echo of your uncertainties only made Chan’s grin widen. Each new thought layered itself over the rest, but somehow, yours always came through with striking clarity, as if your mind was the loudest voice in the room. He wasn’t sure if he was honing in on it by instinct or if his newfound ability had a mind of its own, drawn to you by sheer force of will—or intrigue.
‘It’s like he’s seeing right through me…oh my god, can you see my underwear or something? I’m gonna kill myself.’
You visibly clenched your thighs, turning away from Chan to avoid his gaze but he was the only thing on his mind. You couldn’t even enjoy the game you were playing anymore. 
‘God, he looks really good…makes me wanna take him in the back and tie my hair up–shit, how long is gonna stare at me?’
As each thought drifted by, Chan skillfully sifted through the chaos, honing in on the captivating essence of your unguarded musings. A swell of pride blossomed within him as he recognized that this ability to read minds might not be a curse after all; it was a remarkable gift, one potent enough to give him control over someone as difficult as you
"Leaving so soon, dearest customer?” Chan drawled, leaning against the wall by the exit, his eyes tracking every movement as you gathered your things, your grip tightening around the strap of your backpack.
‘Was he…waiting for me?’
He scoffed, removing his name tag as he did at the end of every shift, a knowing glint in his eyes as he held your gaze, refusing to look away. “You just seem…distant. Thought I’d check in.”
‘He was thinking about me?’ The thought sparked something in you, and you cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “Maybe you should focus on yourself for once, and I don’t mean…” Your gaze flickered downward before snapping back up, warmth spreading up your neck.
‘Not that I’d be entirely against it,’ you thought with a quiet chuckle.
With a step forward, his confidence seemed to fill the space between you, his eyes sweeping over you with a boldness that made you catch your breath. He regarded you with a half-lidded gaze, as though he could see through you, a look that sent a prickle of goosebumps over your skin. “Only you would make my concern for you about my genitals,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “Think about them often, do you?”
You nearly stumbled, his words unraveling your composure as he turned your teasing back on you with a mastery that left you momentarily speechless. “You…”
“Was I on the money? It’s showing on your face.”
You shook your head lightly, brushing past him without a word, pretending the encounter hadn’t rattled you. But as you moved, he followed, a faint smirk lingering as he kept pace just behind you, relishing in the control he held. Chan tuned into the steady stream of thoughts he could almost feel buzzing around your mind—every second of fluster, every trace of hesitation.
With each step, he could sense your resolve slipping, see the barely concealed tension in your hurried stride as you exited the café, almost like you were running but with no clear destination in mind. And he kept watching, unhurried, savoring every moment as he let his presence linger just enough to keep himself quietly literally in the back of your mind, conflicted with the current predicament.
“Where are you going? You never did answer my question,” he called after you, his tone deceptively casual.
You scoffed, refusing to let your stride falter. “You’re being weird today.”
‘Need to stop myself from jumping him with the way he’s looking at me,’ your thoughts betrayed you, louder than you’d like.
He raised an eyebrow, matching your pace with ease. “Speak for yourself. It’s like you can’t help but avoid me. Almost like you’re hiding something.”
With a quick glance over your shoulder, you forced yourself to meet his eyes, though the effort was as shaky as it was bold. “Wow, nosy much? If I didn’t know better, Chan, I’d think you’re obsessed with me or something.” ‘If that’s the case, God smite me right now.’
“Sounds like you’re projecting.” Chan closed the gap between you, stepping so close only a half-arm’s length separated you. His eyes swept over you, catching the subtle quiver you tried to hide. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think your obsession is the reason you can barely look me in the eyes right now. Or maybe you’re undressing me with them. Is that it?”
‘Please, for Christ’s sake, I am two seconds away from tearing the clothes off your back and making you shut up with my mouth,’ the thought flashed hot and unfiltered, betraying you in every glance.
Chan’s grin widened, reveling in the crackling tension radiating from you. "Careful with where your eyes are going," he murmured, voice low and teasing. “You don’t know what I might have to do about it if you don’t.”
With that, he turned on his heel and strode off, leaving you rooted in place, your final unguarded thoughts echoing in his head as he went back home.
‘Maybe that's all I want to do now.’
In the days leading up to Halloween, you’d been keeping your distance, and Chan’s telepathic abilities showed no signs of fading. Every day, you kept to the same routine—avoiding his gaze, interacting with your shared friends, and hiding those unspeakably dirty thoughts behind a prissy, composed facade. At first, Chan found it amusing, this secret insight into your mind, but as the days wore on, he became more curious, more intrigued. How much of what you showed the world actually aligned with those hidden, guilty desires?
His gaze drifted to the costume hanging in his closet like an eyesore—a dinosaur suit that, though comical, would probably have him sweating profusely all night. Then there was Soonyoung’s “thirst trap” suggestion, an outfit that showed way more skin, something Chan had immediately rejected and returned but still left in the back of his mind. However, an idea began to take shape, a clever compromise that might just keep your attention exactly where he wanted it. For experimental reasons, of course.
You didn’t come into work that day, likely dodging him on purpose, which only left Chan to navigate the usual mundane thoughts of the café’s patrons—mostly comments about costumes or Halloween plans. Without your thoughts slipping into his mind, the day seemed flat, dull even.
“Hey, Chan.” ‘Hello body-ody-ody.’
Chan caught Jeonghan’s stare as he stood there in a rabbit costume, the moment stretching out just a beat too long. Chan’s confidence wavered just a bit, a warm flush creeping up his neck as he glanced down, lightly fiddling with the arms of his dinosaur onesie, which were tied loosely around his waist. He was half-bare beneath the café lights, with only a simple chain dangling around his neck, and suddenly the whole look felt a little bolder than he’d intended.
He let out a nervous chuckle, his voice softening as he managed, “Uh…am I doing too much?” He could feel his cheeks warm as he looked up again, almost as if he expected Jeonghan to burst out laughing any second. But instead, Jeonghan’s expression softened, a crooked smile forming, clearly more amused than anything.
“...Huh? Oh, sorry, I was looking at your body.”
Chan’s cheeks flushed as he instinctively crossed his arms over his chest. “Bro,” he muttered, clearly flustered.
“Chan, you’re fine. It’s Halloween, dressing like a slut is normal in this time of year.” Jeonghan clapped him on the shoulder.
“Jeonghan…”Chan murmured, half-scolding but feeling even more self-conscious under Jeonghan’s praise.
“In fact, I’m happy you’re finally putting yourself out here. I would think the eye candy I hired would sell himself off a little more,” Jeonghan chuckled to himself, thinking, ‘And man, did I nail that hire.’
Chan blinked, stunned. “You’re joking.”
‘I’m not,’ Jeonghan thought proudly, then said aloud, “I’m not.” Jeonghan’s devilish smile widened as he subtly nodded toward the crowd filling the café. Among the usual patrons were a few fresh faces, particularly a growing group of college-aged girls who seemed unable to keep their eyes off Chan.
Chan’s thoughts drifted back to that morning. He’d been in the stockroom, reorganizing supplies while Minghao ran the front, completely unaware of the number of glances that had slipped through the cracked door, trailing over him as he worked. Now, seeing the lingering stares, he realized his costume had sparked more than just Halloween spirit—it had created quite a stir, evening out it’s usually male dominated atmosphere.
Now he was starting to wonder if he’d been filtering out the roaming thoughts a little too well, considering what he’d missed:
‘What is that costume even…? Actually, I don’t even care. He’s so yummy…’
‘I’m literally drooling. Oh my god, he just looked at me—I’m shaking.’
‘Did guys this hot always work here? Guess I’ll have to come by more often now.’
‘I kind of want to get his number…maybe then he’d let me ride his—’
Chan's eyes widened as the wave of unabashed admiration washed over him. He hadn’t expected this much attention, and a shy grin crept onto his face. “I-I get it now. Um… wow.”
He threw a timid glance toward their corner, and the response was immediate: the girls erupted in muffled squeals, giggling and whispering as if sharing secrets too wild to be spoken aloud. Their eyes gleamed with a mix of awe and infatuation, lingering on him even as they leaned into each other, cheeks flushed, exchanging looks that made Chan feel both flattered and exposed.
“See? You’re a staple here, and you’re doing great,” Jeonghan said with a grin. “Rack up those tips, and when you clock out, fill me in on any last-minute details about the party tonight. Just in case I missed anything.”
“Sure, Jeonghan.”
Now that Chan had come to terms with the fact that his costume was effective for a similar demographic, a swell of confidence bubbled within him that you would react the same. All he needed now was a chance to show it off to the right person. But as he glanced around the café, scanning for you amidst the crowd, a tinge of disappointment set in. Despite the lively atmosphere filled with laughter and chatter of the spooky festivities, you were nowhere to be found, and he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that maybe he was the reason.
As the hour drew nearer, Chan felt a growing sense of frustration. Maybe he had been misreading your thoughts all along, or perhaps his powers were glitching today. The very idea of having such abilities was absurd, yet here he was, confused as to why he couldn’t detect your voice. He needed to make sense of it all. How could you swing from hating him one moment to lusting after him the next, only to ghost him entirely? Each possibility twisted in his mind, leaving him feeling more lost than ever. The anticipation that had once excited him now felt heavy with uncertainty, gnawing at his confidence just as he was getting used to it.
Seungcheol’s voice rang out with a mix of authority and enthusiasm, echoing through the bustling café. His energy was infectious, as he gestured animatedly, urging everyone to transition from the work grind to the festive spirit. With his usual flair, he rallied the team, his eyes sparkling with excitement for whatever chaos awaited them upstairs. The air buzzed with anticipation as he clapped his hands together, urging the staff to shake off the day’s fatigue and dive into the night’s festivities.
Meanwhile, Chan busied himself with the final preparations for the party, glancing at the door every few moments, hoping to see you walk through it finally. He didn’t have much of a plan but he had the spirit of one, bouncing off in the corners of his mind like the vibrant colors of the haunted jungle punch sloshing around in his red Solo cup. The punch was fruity and something strong, but it did little to calm his growing anticipation. 
Despite the cheerful atmosphere around him, he fought to maintain a carefree demeanor, all while tuning out the cacophony of voices in his head. Racy thoughts and flirtations from other partygoers echoed through his mind, but none of it held the same thrill as the prospect of hearing your voice. Each thought was a distraction, a reminder of the palpable heat that he felt on his skin when he heard your thoughts for the first time and how it made his heart clench for a reason other than annoyance.
He could almost visualize the energy you brought with you, the way your laughter lit up the room, and how your teasing remarks made his pulse pick up pace. Chan found himself nursing the drink, hoping the sugar and alcohol would somehow bridge the gap between him and you not being here like he hoped you’d be. The raucous fun around him only intensified his longing, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight wouldn’t be complete without you by his side.
‘Oh, fuck.’
It hit him like the chime of a clock striking the hour, electrifying and undeniable. Your voice echoed in his mind, pulling his attention as if drawn by an invisible force. He turned to see you entering through the doors, your presence instantly commanding the room.
Your gaze locked onto his, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. You were enveloped in a dress of the deepest black, hugging your form from chest to waist before flaring out dramatically and hitting just above your knees. Sheer green tights adorned your legs, glimmering under the soft lights, and a pointed hat crowned your head. You were a vision of the Wicked Witch of the West and Chan could see that never had he thought that vision could be so alluring.
In that moment, everything around him dissolved—the laughter, the music, the chatter of partygoers—as his entire focus narrowed in on you. You were breathtaking, igniting something primal within him that he thought he could shut off. But—
‘I could eat you up, Lee Chan.’
A smile tugged at his lips as he followed after you, sharing the same sentiment as your unspoken hunger. “Took you long enough.”
‘Mmh, so he was waiting for me. Again.’
“Didn’t realize you were waiting for me.” Your chuckle was laced with arrogance. ‘Where the hell is his shirt? And why couldn’t he have given me the pleasure of taking it off?’
“You’ve been avoiding me, which is unusual for you,” Chan remarked sarcastically, watching intently as you poured yourself a drink, bending his arm in a way that not-so-effortlessly flexed his upper arms. “And you didn’t come by the café at all today.” He leaned in slightly, narrowing his gaze. “I thought it might have something to do with me.”
“You?” Your incredulity echoed in your mind. ‘Lee Chan? You were worried about me?’
You stepped closer, invading his space with a confidence that sent a thrill through him. Your gaze traced a deliberate path from his eyes, down the strong line of his jaw, pausing to appreciate the way the light danced across his bare skin. It dipped lower, gliding over the defined contours of his chest, each muscle accentuated by the flickering glow of the party lights. You lingered at his waistband, taking in the way the fabric clung to him seductively.
As your eyes returned to his, there was a spark of mischief in them that didn’t need mind reading to understand, leaving the recipient breathless. The air between you seemed to thrum with unspoken words but clear dialogue, thick with a tension that wrapped around you both. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, drawing him closer to you. The world around you faded into a blur, leaving only the two of you suspended in this charged moment, as if the very atmosphere crackled with anticipation.
“Yeah. Me.” Chan confirmed, his grin widening.
“Well, look who took the time to finally make it.” You both felt a weight on your shoulders as someone drove in between you both, becoming the deli meat in this strange sandwich. 
Soonyoung hugged his cheeks between your faces and grinned, oblivious as always to his surroundings. “Hey, guys.”
‘Good, I stopped the fight before they decked it out in front of everyone.’ 
“Hey, Soonyoung,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist and forcing a smile. “I see you’re recycling your costume from last year.”
“Uh, it’s not a reuse! This is clearly a brand-new bodysuit, complete with paws!” He lifted his tiger mitts dramatically, waving them in front of your face as if trying to convince you of their novelty. “Very new and totally fierce!”
“Oh, of course, you look good.” You chuckled, genuinely appreciating his energy.
Soonyoung then turned his attention to Chan, eyes wide with excitement. “Whoa, Chan! Look at you, buddy! I told you showing off a little skin would do you good, and wow, look at all this!”
He let out an exaggerated whistle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Our sexy little dinosaur! You’re making all the other costumes look bad!”
“Okay, okay, thanks, Soon.” Chan let out a hearty laugh, a flush of embarrassment creeping across his cheeks as he playfully patted his friend’s shoulder. He quickly shrugged him off, attempting to create a buffer to ward off Soonyoung’s inevitable groping.
“Oh, so that’s what you’re supposed to be,” You teased, “Couldn’t tell from the lack of clothes.”
Chan snorted, his amusement bubbling to the surface. “I’m clearly showcasing my costume from the waist down—tail included,” he said, gesturing dramatically. “But just remember, even if my costume is down there…” He raised his fingers and motioned to his eyes, an impish glint in his gaze “…my eyes are definitely up here.”
‘What if I want to look at what’s underneath the costume?’
‘What’s going on here...?”
Chan can’t help but grin at the challenge in your eyes while blatantly ignoring the confusion in Soonyoung’s.
“Showing off the merchandise but not letting people browse? You’re not exactly running a lucrative business here, Lee Chan.” 
“Who says I’m running a business?” Chan shot back with a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “I’m simply looking for..exclusive clientele.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, an invitation wrapped in flirtation.
‘I might have to sample a bit of that to see if it’s to my taste, which I’m sure it will be,’ you thought, wishing you could say it out loud. Instead, a soft giggle escaped your lips, though Chan caught the thought loud and clear. A playful grin spread across his face, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he leaned in just a little closer, seeing the playfulness dance in your eyes.
“You guys are speaking weird,” Soonyoung chimed in, his words slightly slurred as the effects of the alcohol began to show. He swayed a little, a goofy grin plastered across his face.
Chan patted his striped friend on the back with a friendly nudge. “Why don’t you check if Jihoon needs help with the music, buddy? You’d be a real asset.” 
“Oh, I would be so good at that!” Soonyoung declared, practically bouncing on his heels before darting off with uncontainable enthusiasm.
Chan turned back to you, arching an eyebrow with a playful glint in his eye, eager to stretch out the moment. “So, did you bring anything special to offer?”
“Just some wine that Minghao practically wrestled away from me when I walked through the front door,” you replied, rolling your eyes with a feigned exasperation. “Have you sorted out those party games you were so excited about?”
“Should be starting in a couple of minutes,” he assured, his gaze flicking around the party setup, but the warmth of his attention remained fixed on you. “In the meantime, feel free to indulge in the snacks or candy. They’re just as sweet as you.”
‘Oh?’
“How thoughtful of you,” you compliment, pleasantly surprised.
“Forgot to mention the warheads, but still considerably sweet.”
The night unfolded like a game of push and pull, with Chan pulling you in more than he ever had before. The playful tension crackled between you, and he could tell that the idea of playing hard to get was on your mind tonight. Even with all the distractions around you, your thoughts were surprisingly coherent—you wanted Chan, and he knew it. Yet you refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. That was when he realized that the party games he had planned would serve as the perfect tool to tilt the odds in his favor.
“Alright, everyone, gather around! On behalf of our activities coordinator, Chan, I’ll be hosting the game he selected for us tonight. Why don’t you tell us what it is, Chan?” Seungcheol announced, his tone playful as he gestured for Chan to take the spotlight.
Chan stepped forward, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Tonight, we’ll be playing manhunt—a twist on hide and seek with major stakes. The last person standing will win a grand prize, and the seeker who finds the most players will earn a reward just as significant. There will be three seekers.” He paused for effect, relishing the eager anticipation in the room. “The rules are simple: (1) no running, (2) you must reveal yourself once your name is called, and (3) most importantly, have fun. The prizes will be unveiled after the game ends.”
Vernon raised his hand eagerly. “Is the prize money?”
“Vernon, what did I just say?” Chan replied, suppressing a grin as he earned a solemn nod in response.
“Is there a time limit?” Mingyu chimed in, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.
“Forty minutes.”
Wonwoo started to raise his hand. “What about—”
“Enough questions!” Seungcheol interrupted, chuckling as he saw the anticipation on everyone’s faces. “Chan, pick your seekers.”
Chan rubbed his hands together, a cocky smile spreading across his face as he surveyed the crowd, already knowing who he wanted. “I choose Joshua, Seokmin, and myself. While Seungcheol counts to twenty, the rest of you will scatter and hide.” His grin widened, mischief dancing in his eyes. “And remember, don’t get caught. Losers will face punishment, too,” he added, eliciting a collective groan from the group.
Seungcheol stood in the middle of the room, gesturing for the helpers to shut off all the lights, leaving the entire floor of the building pitch black and ready for the taking. “Starting now. Twenty… nineteen… eighteen…”
The harmonious sound of footsteps retreated from the room, the darkness perfectly concealing any shadows that might betray anyone’s position. Chan needed no light to do what he had to do but turned on his phone camera the moment the counting ended. He met the eyes of his fellow seekers, barely visible in the glow of their phone lights, anticipation clear on their faces. “We’ll cover our own ground until we run out of places to search, then it’s a free-for-all,” Joshua suggested.
“Got it. I’ll head out first,” Chan insisted, earning a collective nod and finding his own path.
He navigated through the stream of thoughts, weaving between them like a radio dial tuning into a specific frequency, determined to hone a singular voice. 
‘Ugh, why did I have to choose this one to hide in? This is such a bad idea.’
Chan smiled recognizing the familiar pitch, beelining straight for the sound, passing the other voices that may interrupt his route.
In a singular room, his in particular, you were the only one loud enough to break through.
‘Oh, shit, someone’s here. Please go away, please go away.’
No matter how carefully you tried to muffle your presence, it radiated from the closet, an open invitation to Chan’s mind-reading senses. He crept closer, footsteps soft as whispers, his hand hovering over the knob. With a slow, deliberate movement, he eased it open, revealing your figure barely concealed behind the racks of his half-filled closet. Your eyes darted to his, and a quiet “Fuck…” slipped out as he stepped inside, claiming the cramped space beside you.
The closet was shadowed in near-darkness, the room's lights off, but a sliver of moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating through the slits of the closet in faint, wispy beams. As your eyes adjusted, you could just make out the silhouette of Chan, his figure close, a playfully smug smile catching the dim light as he settled in front of you.
‘What is he–’
Chan lifted a finger to his lips, signaling for silence before you could utter a protest. His eyes held yours with an intensity that had your pulse racing, each beat a rapid tattoo under the thin skin of your neck. Footsteps echoed faintly from the hallway outside, the other seekers passing by Chan’s room without a second thought, oblivious to the two of you hidden mere inches apart.
‘He’s so close. He smells so good,’ you thought, the hint of his cologne making your breath hitch. Chan couldn’t help the tiny grin tugging at his lips—props to him for choosing the good cologne today.
‘He’s practically pressed against me. Is this what dying and going to heaven feels like?’
Chan stifled a laugh, stepping even closer, until the heat radiating from his skin was undeniable. In a whisper, he teased, “Try not to get caught.”
“But you—” you started, barely finding your voice to remind him that he was in fact one of the people you’re not supposed to get caught from, only to have it die on your lips as his hand pressed lightly on the wall beside you, leaving little room to breathe, let alone escape.
“Shh,” he murmured, eyes glinting as he held you captive against the panel, a hair’s breadth away. 
“Chan…” you murmured, half-breathless, gazing up at him with a mixture of confusion and exhilaration as the closeness left you dizzy, the space between you charged and impossibly small.
His eyes drifted down, seeing your lips pursed slightly in direction, calling to his attention, begging to be claimed.
‘He’s staring again.’ your thighs clenched against each other, hiding the pool of your heat as you could feel it seep through your panties. ‘He looks at me like this any longer I might just fuck him right here.’
Chan shifted closer, his nose grazing yours, so close he could catch the faint sweetness lingering on your breath. "You have to be quiet…real quiet," he whispered, his voice barely more than a murmur.
“W-why?” you stammered, the question coming out in a whisper as his hands found your hips, drawing you against him with a gentle but possessive pull.
He paused, his eyes flicking between yours, a soft smile teasing at the corner of his lips. “Because,” he breathed, his voice sending a delicious warmth down your spine, before he leaned in, closing the miniscule gap and bridging you together in the sweetest of symphonies.
‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god–’
His hand clasped against your cheek, hips digging against yours and pinning you to the wall as his tongue traced in the inside of your mouth, exploring you until he could familiarize himself. He felt bound to you, having taste what’s been distant thought now a full blown movie, a movie that he'd rewatch until the day he dies. 
Your hand caressed the back of his neck, tenderly kneading his skin and pushing yourself closer to his body. The hands that ached to touch him found their peace, gliding on his skin and feeling the outline of his body, through every contour and crevice, so hot it’s sweltering, simply melting underneath him.
‘This is so awesome…don’t ever make this stop…’
He held you by your thigh, brought it to his exposed side, and lifted you from the ground, crushing his weight against you to keep you in place. His eagerness poked against your stomach, taunting you with its size, and parting your mind for thoughts of its sensation plunging inside you, wrecking havoc.
‘Oh god, I’m gonna cum thinking about want I’d do when I fuck him.’
Chan softly chuckled, pulling away and looking at the glisten in your eyes, feeling your skin flushed against him, hearing how your mind screamed for him in ache. “Are you—“
“Yes,” you gingerly nodded, not giving him a second to finish his sentence, “Whatever it is. Yes. Or no. Or whatever.”
‘Good god, get a grip. Desperate much?’
Chan’s hand crept under the fabric of your skirt, sliding down beneath the layer of green pantyhose and underwear, your vicious slickness immediately coating his fingers. “I like you a little desperate,” he confessed in staggered whispers before slotting his lips between yours again. 
Your throbbing cunt thrummed beneath his digits, pulsing around him as he pushed on inside, already coating his knuckles. You seized around him, clenching your stomach, as a clear moan escaped you.
‘What was that?’ Chan sensed Seokmin’s thoughts a mere meters away, franticness in his eyes and the voice of his fellow seeker followed after. “Hello?”
“Hey Seok, Just me!” Chan covered for you, fingers thrusting as they curled up inside you. “I hit my foot on something, so I’m taking a minute breather in my room. No one's here!”
“Mmh, okay, Buddy. Be more careful!”
As soon as the coast was clear, his attention averted back to you. “I said be quiet, didn’t I?”
His hand clamped over your mouth and blocking sounds from leaving as he entered another finger, feeling your muffles hummed satisfyingly against his palm. His smile stretched to the corner of his face. “I told you I’d make you shut up wouldn’t I?”
You rocked into the merciless paces of Chan’s fingers, feeling them massage you in and out, as his palm ground itself against your clit. You head knocked back against the wall behind you, joined by Chan at your hip, letting his fingerss fuck you the way you wish his cock finally would. ‘Oh Lee Chan, Lee Chan, Lee Chan…’
You steadied your arms around his shoulders, eyes fluttering in and out of focus, while your hips snapped back him. It was second nature at this point, responding to him with nothing but open arms.
‘His fingers…my god, his fucking fingers…’
“Faster? Deeper?” Chan offered, sweat dampening tendrils hitting at his eyes. 
You nodded, giving no coherent answer as he took away your ability to breathe. ‘Yes, both, please.’
He’d give it to you, watching as tears swelled up in eyes from ecstasy, ramming his digits until he didn’t care who could hear the delicious squelching, the manhunt game so far back in subconscious, it was practically nonexistent. 
‘Needed him so bad, need him to fuck me so stupid I could feel him in my throat…Lee Chan…’
Even without mind reading, the look in your eyes told him everything. Your gaze was intense, charged with an incredible sense of longing, as if it held secrets that could start wars or shatter worlds. There was something almost dangerous in it, introducing him to a hunger he couldn’t ignore. How had he never noticed this before? It practically screamed at him to cross these invisible lines. And for a heartbeat, the world felt as if it teetered on the edge, making him realize his touch unleashed something neither of you could hold back from.
When you contracted around his fingers, there was no better word than heaven, the thick release in his enveloping grasp, collecting at the cup of his hands.
Chan showed a hint of mercy, letting your feet settle back on the ground. You pried your tired eyes open, letting the faint moonlight help you take in the dreamy sight before you as you slowly recovered from the waves of your climax. Chan, clearly intrigued by the quiet of your mind, ran his tongue along the underside of his palm, jolting you back to life as you watched, breath hitching at the sight.
‘Oh my…’
Chan grinned, his tongue dragging against every curve, every wrinkle, following even the drip running down his forearm, his eyes not breaking a beat from you as he ate your cum off his fingers. He pressed against you, sweaty and flushed, ensuring every bit of you laid flat on his tongue, swallowing every sweet drop of that golden nectar, softly moaning about its flavor. “Better than my favorite candy.”
‘Oh, this man needs to get me pregnant.’
“A couple more to go! Watch out!” Joshua shouted from down the hall.
There was a brief moment of trepidation Chan felt, cursing his friend mentally for getting their tasks done so quickly, stunned that you and him were able to keep hidden for so long. Chan knew he had to make a move, and quickly. 
Shoving up the skirt of your dress, he tore the delicate seams of your green stockings, and a gasp escaped your lips before you had the chance to hush yourself. As soon as you were exposed, Chan sank to his knees, wasting no time. He gripped the ruched hem of your dress, gathering the fabric in his hands in rushed anticipation, pushing aside your panties with his teeth and burying his face inside your warm pussy.
‘This little whore, oh my..’
His tongue pushed flat against you, taking you in at long stripes as his eyes bordered on impatience and deliberate, savoring at how you squirmed against him when his pink muscle curled and licked circles at your entrance. You pushed your weight on him, cried at the thought of him eating you alive when any moment you could get caught.
‘He’s going to kill me, he’s going to kill me. Fuck, those pretty eyes looking back at me. He looks so good eating me out. God, fuck.’
He took your free hand, guiding it to the back of his head, gesturing you to hold on, and like magic, the lower half of his face vanished between your wet folds. 
“Oh gah–” You’re the one to shut yourself off this time with the sharp bite of your lip, focused on the passionate exploration of Chan’s tongue–fucking you with intent, and you fought off the urge to scream. He held you up by your thighs, the darkness in his eyes zoning in on you, drunk in thought of witnessing another orgasm, and amplified your senses with the presence of his fingers. You gripped his hair for dear life–further encouraging him to go deeper–worshiping how the soft strands felt against the pads of your fingers as Chan worshipped every inch inside of you.
“Don’t stop,” you managed to whisper, combing through his hair. “Hmm, that’s so nice…god, you’re so hot eating me out like that…”
Chan was starting to confuse your words for thoughts, or maybe was it your thought for words, whatever it was, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to hear them, your delightful praises directed towards him, or see that beautiful face contort with pleasure.
Your hips began to do that familiar jerk, your pelvis hitting his nose as you sensed something explosive near. Your sounds of ache muffled under your hands, and you twisted your hips, gasp breaking out of you helplessly, and Chan got that familiar fresh flavor of you on his tongue as it dripped out of you. 
He helped himself up to pin you back on the wall, the taste of yourself in his mouth, startling addictive, and you reciprocated, getting everything that he’s worked for.
As he pulled away, staring back at you with an unspoken intensity in his eyes. “Let’s get you going.”
Chan led you out of the closet, cum still dripping down your legs,  joining the rest of the group to announce your victory: a month-long coupon for free snacks at the gaming café. The triumphant smile on your face as you timidly crossed your legs, only hinting at the far more thrilling victory you’d just shared in Chan’s closet.
The other seekers playfully elbowed him, teasing him for being a terrible seeker. "I’m shocked you found anyone with how long you took!" they laughed. But the mischievous glint in his eyes was hidden under a veil of innocuous feigned confusion. “Guess, I really suck at this,” he shrugged, “Glad you guys had fun.”
And everyone did have fun—so much so that nearly the whole crowd insisted on another round. A round that you and Chan would find just as—if not even more—entertaining than the first.
As soon as Chan locked the door for the PC Cafe, he reclaimed your lips, feeling for your heat underneath your dress and its familiar throb. “Finally, some privacy.”
As fellow hiders this round, you slipped away to a more secluded spot, somewhere private enough to pick up right where you’d left off. Here, with no one else to interrupt, the two of you could finally delve into that spark that you both have only begun starting to understand, the excitement between you simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to be explored in the quiet privacy you’d carved out.
‘Lee Chan, the man you are.’
He slipped you out of your dress and let it hit the ground, leading you to behind the counter and pressing you against it. You looped your arms around him, tugging his dinosaur onesie off with your foot and kicking it to the ground along with your dress, caressing his cock protected under a layer of his briefs. “Chan, please I want you.”
‘More than you’d ever know.’
“I know,” He chuckled, tearing off the final obstacle of your underwear. And stuffing it in the abandoned skin of his Halloween costume. “And I’ll show just the kind of treatment you get when you ask nicely.”
He flipped you around, tearing your pantyhose higher on your ass, and bent you over in front of him. He slowly, and deliberately, fished out his cock, letting it slap against the curve of your ass, hearing the pleads inside your head.
‘God, he so knows what he’s doing. What a tease.’
His lips connected to the back of your neck, with a free hand squeezed around the flesh of your breast. “Say it.”
“Chan…” you whined. ‘Don’t make me beg.’
“I want to hear how much you want me inside of you. I need some transparency from you.”
“Of course, I want it, Chan.” You back yourself against him, leading the head of his cock towards your puffy slit. “Please.”
“Use your words, dirty girl,” He harshly whispered, invoking a feeling not only rare but foreign inside of you as you clenched around nothing.
“I-I want you inside me, Chan.”
“Doing what?”
You whined, “Fucking me.” ‘Using me.’
He scoffed, brimming with pride, readjusting your position as he saw fit, and slowly pushed himself inside you. When you adjust to his size, you had only begun to realize the impact it’s have on you, how it’s be hard to forget such a sensation, until he’s dragging his cock in and out of you. You clawed on wooden counter, bracing yourself, and echoing a low, long groan as he covered every inch of him in your slick walls. 
The first thrust was methodical, calculated, determined to show you the whole range of what he’d give you and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t intimidated, but as he found his pace, you began to find your balance. “Oh, fuck…”
You were glued to him, his hips pounding himself against you as his hands collected your breasts in his hands, lips kissing up your neck and behind your ear. “Gonna make you fucking wish your only regret was not fucking me sooner.”
How he easily found your spot was mystery – one that you didn’t think too long and hard on – until he just kept doing it, pulling you back against him as he released his inhibitions. Your sweat pilled against each other, unsure where yours started and where his ends, your bodies intertwined into one sickening display of what almost a year of unspoken lust looked like.
‘Oh, I could get used to this. If he fucked me like this everyday, I wouldn’t complain for a single second.’
And Chan was almost counting on that.
He turned you around again, missing your face and admiring how your disheveled hair only framed its intoxicating aura as he lifted you against the counter and pushed his cock inside you as he towered over you.
The single chain around his neck brushed against your face repeatedly, and calling to your attention loud enough for only Chan to hear.
‘Omg his chain…this is like one of those Twitter memes where fanatics dream of their faves’ chain hanging above their face during sex…and it’s actually happening to me with Chan.’
Suddenly, he had an idea. “Bite on it.”
You blinked at him, registering his words as he suddenly stopped his thrusts. “…What?”
“Bite on my chain while I fuck the living shit out of you.” 
You took your time processing the thought, before slowly leaning in, the chain barely meeting your lips before you took it between your teeth and pulled him down with you.
Chan’s once kind smile warped into something more sinister, more primal, and he granted you what he had promised.
His cock slammed against you, reverberating your walls, and you clung on the counter under you, while your vision flickered to the back of your skull. Gritting against the chain on your enamel, your head could not form words clear in any sense, just the echo of yours skin clashing and Chan reveled in that. “Good fucking girl.”
He hand struck your side, squishing you against the counter, feeding you his raw power course through you until he’s fill you up, over and over again. You feed his ego in a way he never expected from someone and wasn’t sure he’d be willing to let it go with whatever happened next, so he was gonna savor the moment he had.
As his arousal coursed through him, squeezed every ounce of energy out of you, ensuring he’d hear his name on your brain and out your lips. He held your tired body, stroking your sides, panting against your skin, and felt the final release ebb out of him like a stream, coating you in perfect white before settling down a stool nearby, sitting you on his lap as you rested against the security of his strong, broad frame.
Wherever this left the two of you, Chan just knew he needed to have you. And considering the emptiness in his head, he needed you for more than he realized.
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wolfd07 · 16 hours ago
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They are both flawed in human ways. Stan was kicked out for Accidentally breaking his brother’s project. Ya he broke it but it WAS an accident. Why should he get kicked out for something that he didn’t mean to do. Why did his brother close the curtains and hate him for it. Now he has to go around and Try to sell nothing to people to try to make enough for food.
Ford couldn’t watch as his brother got kicked out. Was he mad Yes but he didn’t want to loose his brother. He wasn’t mad enough for his twin, the person who is always on his side to get kicked out. I think it shows that when Ford went too far the first person he called was Stan. Yes fiddleford was going crazy but after years of Ford pushing people away and becoming a hermit the only person he still trusted was his twin. The one who got kicked out because of him. And Stan didn’t hold much of a grudge he wanted to help his brother. He was happy to see him after so many years.
Both of them truly love each other but are just so different. It’s tragic Ford wanted to protect Stan and Stan wanted to protect Ford but in the end they both ended up hurting each other.
Only Gravity Falls fans with media literacy interact with this post pls ok ok ok so do you think some of Ford’s resentment towards Stanley was in part because he felt like he had to “protect” him from Filbrick as the golden child? Like can you imagine if everytime you got mad at your brother, no matter how justified, your dad would verbally abuse him at best and kick him out of the house at worst? How much that fear would weigh on a kid? He loves Stanley, of course he does, and OBVIOUSLY Stanley isn’t the one at fault, he’s a victim, but what is a little boy supposed to do when he’s stuck being “the good twin” and any strike against his brother, no matter how small, could result in him getting hurt? How much anger did he bottle up? How many times did he force himself to turn the other cheek just to keep him safe? How horrible that night must have been, when everything he’d spent his entire life trying to prevent ended up happening anyway? How his dreams were crushed, a promising future was snatched from him, and the one time he actually lets himself get angry about it his brother is permanently disowned? Imagine how he must have felt looking down from that window. How angry at himself he must have been. How ashamed. Man I’d close the curtains too. Torn in half between feeling responsible for the suffering of someone you care so much about and feeling rage at them for being the reason you had to stifle yourself for so long. He probably let himself believe Filbrick’s words just to bring himself comfort. Anyway I love nuance I love analysis I love when characters are flawed in ways that aren’t excused but are still tragic and understandable I love critical thinking
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gdn7-dollopole · 2 days ago
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There’s something so sweet about this scene. Not only Arthur is surrounded by his knights, his friends, he still can’t seem to forget there’s someone missing.
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And the way he approaches Merlin is nothing funny or sarcastic: it’s pure concern, it’s love, it’s respect.
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Merlin admits he’s scared, without thinking about it twice, because yes, this is Arthur, the same man who makes fun of me on a daily, but he’s also my best friend, the man I love, and who I could lose, but I can’t tell him, but, oh God, if he needs to know I don’t want him to die. I’m the most powerful warlock on earth, yet I’m scared of Morgana, because she wants to kill Arthur, and I’m weak when it comes to him, I’m scared I won’t be able to protect him as I should (especially since Merlin has heard the prophecy that spoke of Arthur’s bane).
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I like Arthur’s stunned face. Merlin is referring to his life. “You don’t care you could die?” And not only Arthur is shocked by it, because he thought Merlin knew his reasonings by now, knew that Arthur would never risk losing his knights, losing Merlin. But Arthur doesn’t care as long as his men are safe, as long as Merlin’s safe (because, let’s be honest, this conversation is nothing but a way for them to tell each other how they feel towards one another, without exposing themselves to the danger of this revelation). And Arthur needs to make something clear:
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“Only about you.” Because Arthur brings Merlin everywhere like he’s a solider, a warrior, someone who knows how to fight with a sword, who’s an asset to Camelot and the kingdom itself, so he considers him an equal, someone he can sit with on a lower step and chat with about his fears, because he can be vulnerable with Merlin. Arthur knows he’s safe with him.
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Arthur includes Merlin in his speech, and this is something that could mean, “Oh, so Merlin isn’t a friend, isn’t a brother, he’s so much more.” This scene is so impactful, because it’s one of those rare moments where Arthur shows how deeply he can love, how much risk he’s willing to take to bring peace to his kingdom and to his people: to the ones he loves.
And he knows his knights, he knows Merlin won’t abandon him, because he has never done it, and Arthur truly believes Merlin has no reason to do it now, even if he’s scared. It’s as if Arthur is asking, just to make sure, just to have the confirmation that they think the same of it.
And they do:
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I wish I didn’t understand how much I’m willing to risk, and have already risked for you. Because this is why I’m here: for you and only for you.
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The self deprecating smile, because Merlin can’t back down, he never will. He’s so frightened, yet not even the prospect of battling against Morgana and her army will make him run.
He has Arthur to protect.
The way he smiles, it’s as if he’s saying, “Why didn’t I understand this sooner? Arthur’s just like me.” But it’s the fact that they told each other this, they know now, after ten years, that they’re willing to do anything and more for the other to stay safe, to be alive, even if one of them isn’t.
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Merlin tells Arthur. He watches him intensely, because Arthur needs to understand. He’s honest.
Arthur gets it, and he’s finally happy. He’s relieved that Merlin won’t abandon him, that he will stay by his side, like he always is, protecting him, fighting with him, and helping him.
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Arthur smiles at Merlin like he’s seeing him for the first time, and he falls in love with him just that tad bit more.
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seungcheorry · 21 hours ago
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"so...", you say, playing with whatever is in front of you.
"so", minghao repeats on the other side of the line, his voice sounding so soft.
"is it time to say bye?"
"it doesn't have to be if you don't want to", he sincerely says.
minghao has been on the phone with you for over 2 hours now. he told you everything about how the soundcheck went, how his members accepted to record this tiktok with him for his birthday, then the show, then the weverse live...
it's clearly too late where he's at. he clearly needs to rest, recharge his energy before going on with the tour. still, he doesn't even think of hanging up - and he hopes you don't too.
"you sure? you must be tired."
"that i am", he confesses. "but i don't mind talking to you. actually i think i only talked about myself, i'm sorry. please tell me how your day went."
"nothing much", and you mean it. "just work, domestic chores, an asshole cutting the line at the grocery store."
"hope i run into him when i get back."
that makes you laugh, as always.
"i hope too."
it's quiet for a bit. minghao likes to listen to you breathing, it soothes him. and as he starts to hum some unknown melody, you realize his mere presence - even though not physically - soothes you too.
"i might not always say this", you begin. "but i love you. very, very much. i hope you're always happy, my myungho."
"ya...", he chuckles. "using the korean name now too?"
you laugh too.
"it suits you."
"you suit me", minghao sighs happily. "i love you too. thank you for being with me."
"i promise i'll be, for as long as you'll have me."
"great. forever it is, then."
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a/n: happy birthday, minghao. i truly hope you're always happy and i wish for your life to be even greater than it already is. thanks for welcoming me into this diamond life, i could never regret becoming a carat when i did because of your talent, your beauty, and when it brought me so much joy. i love you, the8. ❤️🐸
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ivesambrose · 2 days ago
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NOVEMBER 2024 MINI MESSAGES ❤️
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1. 2. 3.
And we're in November and I feel everyone's a little overwhelmed, but I intend that you receive the guidance you need.
To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected]
Services offered
Reviews
Thanks for the tip!
Picture 1
You feel like you're struggling to make it up hill and maybe you're point blank exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally. The theme of this month for you to lighten the burden you've been carrying in hopes that someone will lighten it. That someone is you. This month also calls for physical rest. I will admit there might be moments you'll feel like you have a bunch of stuff to sort out that do leave you feeling tired but trust that yourself to prioritise you. Take care of your back health some of you. You may also feel a bit emotionally distant or just plain bored or even be deep in contemplation as though you're missing something. However, I see a burst of new ideas, insights or information or clarity that lets you leave that apathetic energy you had been previously feeling, behind. It's as though out of the blue, the path clears. This month brings a positive transition which means you have to leave something behind. But what you do leave behind, won't be a loss. November ends on a more emotionally fulfulling month than it started on. Now whatever fulfills you emotionally, is innately personal to you. Trust that you'll have it and even if you can't right now, know that things will fall in place anyway.
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Don't often say this, but it's truly your month if you're the 'I'll channel every emotion in me into getting everything done and becoming the best.' and even if you're someone who believes that slow and steady will win the race, it's still your month. You'll be working diligently into improving an aspect or multiple aspects of your life or just working hard towards your goals. By this I mean that you'll show up, you'll be consistent and you will improve. You've always been good at this now you'll be better and eventually great. Expect the rewards of your labour, especially financially. Be as ambitions as you wish to be instead of diluting yourself. If you can mentally the paint the picture then you can have it. Just make sure to not overwork and overwhelm yourself. You will be attracting influential individuals but also people who have an addictive or controlling personality, stay wary of those and keep your boundaries intact. Bit by bit, all your efforts, the dominant thoughts you have, what you say to yourself and others, what you share, what you consume etc all of it will add up. This month ends with you feeling like "A brand new person" and yes, I am referencing the Tame Impala song.
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Oh you're fired up this month to the point even you're amused by it. Either it's a sudden burst of energy you'll feel or an opportunity that will be presented to you. You'll also be feeling excited, eager, curious and creative. Lot of planning, lot of risk taking, like you've decided to put your foot down on regards to something and you will be rather defensive of it because I'm seeing maybe some people might want to project their own ideas or limitations onto you or downplay your enthusiasm and determination. Don't let that get to you. In fact, do not overwhelm yourself this month since there is a risk of feeling burnt out. Try not to be too hot headed either and also avoid shopping as therapy (not too much, you can treat yourself though!) I do see there will be someone warm, kind and empathetic towards you. Extremely loving and understanding. Have the same energy towards yourself and those who care for you. Keep your heart a little open too. This month will end on you over coming a rather low point of your life is what I'm sensing. There's a feeling of isolation and defeat that you'll be overcoming and stepping into a version of you that's passionate and wants to experience life to their fullest.
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somestarsburntoobrightly · 3 days ago
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I love when this post comes around again.
Also, I visit Quebec often and my french is ABYSMAL. I can read it fine, and kinda understand others a bit if they talk slow enough, but actually saying the words? Forget it.
Still some people are aholes about it but a lot of people will do their best to try to work with you. Or better yet: teach you. So when I say I died laughing at the 'un sac' story it's because it is one of the only things in french that I will always know how to say and never forget the meaning of because that many cashiers have explained it to me.
Also one time I was trying to find ice and I went around the grocery at least 5 times trying to find it. No dice. So, I approached an employee. First one french only, second one french only and I don't know why I didn't just pull out my phone and show them the french word, but they knew I needed help so they went and got a third employee...also no english so idk what any of us were thinking that day. At this point though, I'm desperate and my Spanish is miles better then my french so I say "¿Hablas Español?".
Ladies and gentleman, he was so excited I'd asked. I was so excited this was going to work out. Neither of us were fluent but I was confident we'd do okay.
He says "¿Que estás buscando?" I say "Estoy buscando-" and I could not for the life of me remember the word for ice. I know I know this word for absolute certain but cannot for the life of me remember it. So I said "lo siento... no recuerdo la palabra...uhhhhhh. Oh! Helado sin leche"(Ice cream no milk).
Blank stare, because yeah that was not the most clear. So I tried again "uhhhh...agua está frio. muy, muy, muy frio."
He says "¿Quieres hielo?"
I goddamn facepalmed.
Thanks to his impressive comprehension, he goes into the back and brings me my bag of ice. I thank him profusely, he thanks me for practicing. And now I will never forget that word again.
for chinese new year they get all these famous actors and comedians together and they do a lil show and one of the comedians was like “i was in a hotel in america once and there was a mouse in my room so i called reception except i forgot the english word for mouse so instead i said ‘you know tom and jerry? jerry is here’
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won4kiss · 4 hours ago
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────THE BEST GIFTS AREN’T UNDER THE TREE.
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୨୧ SYPNOSiS. you and park sunghoon don’t exactly get along. you’re coworkers who seem to have nothing in common— polar opposties. he’s the polished guy from a wealthy family, while you’re just trying to make ends meet and keep your personal life private. but when an awkward run-in at the pharmacy reveals more about your struggles than you ever wanted anyone to know—maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought—maybe the person who drives you the craziest might just be the one who gets you best.
୨୧ PAiRING. enemy! park sunghoon x fem! reader, rich!sunghoon x not very rich! reader, type 1 diabetic! reader.
୨୧ GENRE. office romance, enemies to lovers, fluff & christmas romcom hallmark movie themed, minimal angst.
୨୧ WARNiNGS. profanities, kissing, yn is a little mean.. type 1 diabetes mentioned, struggles with money, ignorant hoon, not proofread.
୨୧ WORD COUNT. 8,106 / 8.1K
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𝓟𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟i𝗦𝗧 ﹕ last christmas, wham. it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas, michael bublé. you’re so vain, carly simon. unwritten, natasha bedingfield. suburban house, holly macve, ldr. just the way you are, bruno mars. can’t help falling in love, elvis presley.
NOTE. i know it’s a bit early.. but i literally couldn’t help myself i love love love christmas!! 🤓☝️thank u guys for the support on the teaser <3 i strongly recommend reading it before u begin this!! enjoy hehe ^-^
LiBRARY | © WON4KISS all rights reserved
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THE OFFICE FELT ALIVE WITH THE PULSE OF CHRISTMAS.
fairy lights draped the edges of cubicle walls, casting warm hues across the room, and garlands hung over doorways, filling the space with a faint hint of pine scent.
the air had an almost electric feel—holiday music blasted softly from someone’s desk speaker, and laughter echoed from the kitchen, where the holiday potluck was in full swing. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!
you took it all in with a quiet sense of satisfaction, enjoying the warmth of the season.
for a few minutes, at least, the festive atmosphere helped you push aside the stress and exhaustion that had weighed on you lately.
financial strain and the challenges of managing your type 1 diabetes were constant pressures, but they were your private burdens, things you carried alone.
here, in the office, you could leave them behind, escape reality—or at least pretend to.
with a sigh, you pulled your scarf off and hung it by your desk, feeling the familiar vibration of your blood glucose monitor.
you checked the reading—steady, for now.
relief was brief, though, as you were quickly reminded of the pharmacy bill due at the end of the month, a larger sum that had grown even more unreachable since your insurance provider had started making cuts.
“hey! finally decided to show up?” a smooth voice cut through your thoughts, laced with the perfect blend of mischief and a hint of mockery.
you turned to see park sunghoon, leaning against the divider between your desks with his signature smirk.
he was dressed in a no doubt expensive, tailored coat, his dark hair disheveled in that way that looked both casual and wealthy.
sunghoon’s presence was an unmistakable reminder that you were, as always, worlds apart.
“yes, i thought i’d take pity and show my face,” you shot back, crossing your arms with an eye-roll. “wouldn’t want you to get too comfortable doing all the work without me.”
“oh, please. like i’d ever let you have all the credit,” he said, grinning as he pushed himself off the desk.
sunghoon’s wealth was an open secret around the office, though he rarely discussed it openly.
still, the designer clothing, the luxury watches, and the effortless way he carried himself spoke volumes.
he was someone who had grown up with privilege in a way you could barely fathom, and sometimes, it felt almost as if he enjoyed reminding you of it.
it was always little jabs, little comments—things he likely didn’t realize cut deeper than intended.
you let out a sigh, unwilling to let him get under your skin today, especially when the holidays usually put you in a good mood.
ignoring his stare, you logged into your computer and prepared for the day’s tasks, hoping he’d get the hint and leave.
but sunghoon didn’t move. instead, he watched you, brows slightly raised, as if daring you to keep ignoring him.
finally, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur.
“so, what’d you bring for the potluck? or is this going to be another year of pretending you’re too busy to participate?” he teased, a glint in his eye.
you bristled, annoyance prickling at your skin.
sunghoon didn’t know, of course, that you’d barely managed to scrape together enough for groceries this week, let alone something special for the potluck—but his words hit a sore spot nonetheless.
“not that it’s any of your business,” you replied with gritted teeth, meeting his gaze, “but i’ve been a little… preoccupied with other things.”
“oh? too busy for christmas spirit, mrs. grinch?” his smirk softened just a little, but the teasing tone remained. “how tragic. i can’t imagine a holiday without going all out.”
“yeah, well, maybe some of us have other priorities.”
he tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his expression—you could tell he was on the brink of pushing further, maybe digging into what those priorities might be, but before he could, a group of coworkers filed into the room, breaking the tension between you.
after a few hours of emails and spreadsheets, you slipped away for a quick break, heading to the break room.
as you made your way down the hall, you thought about the other expenses coming up—the overdue pharmacy bill, the rent check, and the dozens of smaller costs that added up so fast it felt impossible to keep up.
you’d learned to carry these worries quietly.
no one in the office had ever seen you let your guard down, and you’d grown so used to putting on a brave face that sometimes you believed it yourself.
in the break room, you reached into your bag, pulling out a small protein bar that would have to suffice as lunch.
you barely had time to take a bite before the door swung open, and sunghoon strolled in, his presence instantly filling the small room.
“skipping lunch again?” he asked, nodding at the protein bar in your hand.
you raised an eyebrow. “i could say the same. didn’t peg you for the protein-bar type.”
“oh, please.” he scoffed, moving to grab a coffee pod.
“i just had a massive breakfast. unlike some people, i actually know how to treat myself during the holidays.”
“congrats on the life of luxury,” you muttered, feeling your patience fray.
he chuckled, missing the edge in your voice—or, worse, choosing to ignore it. “well, it’s not for everyone.”
there was something almost infuriating in how casually he threw these little remarks around, as if it were a game.
you often wondered if he had any idea how privileged he sounded or if he was simply so wrapped up in his world that he couldn’t see beyond it.
you hated to admit it, but sometimes his comments stung. deeply.
“you know,” he continued, oblivious, “they’re setting up for the secret santa exchange in the main lobby. you could still join in if you want to spread some christmas cheer.”
you felt the words bubbling up before you could stop them. “not all of us can afford to ‘spread christmas cheer’ the way you do, sunghoon.”
a flicker of confusion crossed his face, and his casual demeanor faltered for a second.
you’d been careful not to reveal much about your personal life, but his relentless teasing had chipped away at your patience.
you could see him trying to piece together what you meant, his smirk fading as he observed you, perhaps noticing the hint of frustration in your expression.
but before he could press further, you gathered your things and left the break room, feeling his eyes on your back as you made your way down the hall.
the week had dragged on, filled with deadlines and holiday preparations you barely had the energy for.
by thursday evening, you’d almost forgotten about the refill you needed at the pharmacy.
but when the notification popped up on your phone—prescription ready for pickup—your stomach twisted.
the monthly pharmacy trip was always a grim reminder of the costs that piled up faster than you could manage.
you entered the pharmacy, still in your work clothes, feeling a familiar combination of dread and fatigue.
the fluorescent lights felt harsh after a long day, casting everything in an unflattering glare.
you waited in line, trying to keep your anxiety at bay, telling yourself that it would be okay.
when you reached the counter, the pharmacist handed over the medication with a sympathetic look.
“i’m sorry, y/n..” she said quietly, glancing down at her screen. “your insurance isn’t covering this anymore. the total comes to… $600.”
the number hit you like a punch. “six hundred?” you echoed, barely able to keep the shock from your voice.
“yes, unfortunately,” she said, her expression softening. “would you like to speak to someone in billing about options?”
you swallowed hard, feeling a rush of embarrassment.
behind you, a couple of people had joined the line, their eyes on you, and you could sense their impatience.
the pressure made it hard to think, and you fumbled for words, barely able to keep from breaking down. “i… i didn’t realize it would be that high.”
your hands trembled as you reached for your wallet, counting bills that would barely make a dent.
you felt the weight of judgment pressing down, and the frustration of the week boiled over into a feeling of helplessness.
in that moment, the walls you’d built so carefully began to crack—suddenly, a familiar voice broke through your thoughts.
“here, i’ve got it.”
you whipped around to see sunghoon, standing just behind you, his expression unreadable.
he held out his card to the cashier, his hand steady, his tone calm. the same calmness you often found infuriating—but now it felt like salt in a wound.
“no!” you blurted, voice louder than you intended. “sunghoon, i don’t need—”
he didn’t look at you, simply held his card out closer to the cashier, who accepted it with a nod.
the transaction beeped through, a small, simple sound that shattered any hope you had of holding onto your pride.
you took a shaky breath, trying to process what had just happened.
the thought of owing sunghoon money—let alone having him swoop in like some hero—made you feel nauseous.
sunghoon handed you the medication bag without a word, his expression unreadable, almost neutral.
but his silence only fueled the resentment bubbling inside you.
“thanks,” you muttered, barely meeting his gaze, gripping the bag tightly in your hands.
as soon as you stepped outside the pharmacy, the freezing winter air hit your face, jolting you back to reality.
sunghoon followed, catching up to you in a few strides.
his voice was calm but edged with something sharper, something you couldn’t quite place.
“you’re welcome, by the way,” he said, a hint of sarcasm coloring his tone.
you stopped abruptly, turning to face him, anger flaring up despite the chill that seeped into your bones.
“i didn’t ask you to help me, sunghoon. i really don’t need your charity.”
he scoffed, crossing his arms. “it’s not charity. i was just helping. or is that too difficult for you to accept?”
the words stung—you looked down, heart racing as you struggled to find the right response.
“you don’t get it. you don’t understand what it’s like to need help,” you said quietly, but there was a weight to your words that hung in the air between you.
sunghoon blinked, surprised by the intensity in your tone.
for a brief second, he seemed taken aback, as if realizing for the first time that there were layers to your life he’d never even thought to consider.
but just as quickly, he recovered, his expression hardening.
“maybe i don’t understand,” he said, voice low. “but i was only trying to be a good friend—you clearly needed my help.”
the word “friend” felt heavy, like it didn’t belong.
you’d spent so much time bickering with him, pushing each other’s buttons, that the idea of friendship felt foreign.
“we were never friends, sunghoon,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. “not really.”
his face fell, just a fraction, but it was enough for you to see the disappointment in his eyes before he quickly masked it.
he didn’t respond, didn’t argue back. he just stood there, the silence between you filled with unspoken words and simmering emotions.
with a sigh, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone under the dim streetlights.
the next morning, you arrived at the office feeling drained, the argument replaying in your mind like a loop you couldn’t escape.
you’d spent the entire night wrestling with guilt, shame, and confusion.
as much as you hated to admit it, sunghoon had only been trying to help.
maybe his actions felt patronizing, but it wasn’t entirely his fault—you hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about your struggles, either.
you spotted him near the coffee station, and your heart thudded in your chest.
he looked up as you approached, his expression carefully blank, like he wasn’t sure what to expect.
“hey,” you began, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. “about last night… i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
he looked at you for a moment, studying your face, and you felt the tension ease slightly as a hint of a smile softened his expression.
“apology accepted,” he replied, a glimmer of his usual playfulness returning. “besides, if i can’t handle a little yelling, i shouldn’t be hanging around you, should i?”
you laughed, surprised by how much lighter you felt. “guess not.”
for the rest of the morning, there was a shift in the air between you and sunghoon.
it was subtle, but the tension had softened into something different, something… more understanding.
sunghoon seemed to go out of his way to avoid his usual teasing, and you found yourself appreciating the small moments of consideration—like when he quietly handed you a cup of coffee during a long meeting, or when he offered to take on part of a six page report without asking.
a few days later, the two of you were assigned to a client project that required an off-site visit to the city’s holiday market.
the market was bustling with vendors selling everything from handmade ornaments to spiced apple cider, and festive christmas music filled the air as fairy lights wrapped around pine trees twinkled in every direction.
you walked side by side through the crowds, the cold biting at your cheeks, but the festive atmosphere was infectious.
for once, sunghoon’s competitive edge had softened, replaced by a mutual sense of respect that felt unexpectedly natural.
he paused by a stall selling candied nuts, grinning as he handed you a small bag. “try these—they’re amazing.”
the warmth from the roasted nuts seeped into your hands, and you couldn’t help but smile as you tasted one. “not bad,” you admitted, savoring the sweetness.
he watched you with a soft, almost unreadable expression, his eyes warm in the glow of the holiday lights. “see? i knew i could get you into the christmas spirit.”
you rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks heat up, and for once, you couldn’t blame the cold.
“maybe christmas isn’t so bad,” you conceded, though your tone was playful.
you spent the afternoon walking through the market, sharing laughs and stories, with sunghoon’s usual arrogance replaced by a gentle charm that you weren’t familiar with.
there was something tender in the way he looked at you, as if he were seeing you for the first time, and you found yourself stealing glances when he wasn’t looking, wondering if maybe—maybe there was more to him than you’d realized.
the following weeks felt different—lighter, and even with the temperatures dropping even more—it felt unusually warmer.
where there had been tension, there was now an unspoken truce between you and sunghoon.
you’d catch his eye across the room and find a small, almost conspiratorial smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he, too, felt this strange new dynamic between you.
sunghoon’s teasing didn’t completely vanish, but it softened, became something that almost felt like an inside joke between the two of you.
and you found yourself… laughing. a lot. his wit was sharp, his timing impeccable, and his presence that you once found insufferable was now strangely comforting.
one snowy december morning, you arrived at your desk to find a small, neatly wrapped box sitting on top of your keyboard.
you looked around, half-expecting to see sunghoon lurking nearby, but he was nowhere in sight.
the gift wasn’t anything fancy—just a small pack of flavored coffee pods with a tiny note attached in his precise handwriting:
“for when the cafeteria coffee just isn’t enough. -s”
a smile spread across your face, and you felt an unexpected warmth bloom in your chest.
you didn’t know what surprised you more—that he’d noticed your disdain for the cafeteria’s bitter coffee, or that he’d gone out of his way to do something about it.
the gesture was small, almost insignificant, but it felt like a piece of kindness slipped through his carefully maintained armor.
later that day, when you saw him passing by, you couldn’t help but hold up the box and call out, “you know, bribery is illegal in this office.”
he raised an eyebrow, his lips spreading into a smirk.
“consider it a professional courtesy. can’t have you grumbling about the coffee all day and distracting everyone with your complaints.”
“oh, please,” you shot back, rolling your eyes—but you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling that warmth settle even deeper.
sunghoon was watching you, something soft and thoughtful in his gaze, and for a moment, the whole world seemed to shrink to just the two of you.
the holiday season meant long hours at the office, with tight deadlines and clients demanding year-end reports.
you and sunghoon found yourselves frequently the last ones to leave, working side by side in the glow of your computer screens as the office grew quiet around you.
one evening, you’d both stayed late, trying to wrap up a particularly demanding project.
your head was pounding, and you absentmindedly massaged your temples, eyes closed, when you heard the quiet thud of something being set down on your desk.
opening your eyes, you found sunghoon standing there, holding out a cup of tea.
“it’s not coffee,” he said, with a small, awkward smile. “but it’s supposed to help with headaches.”
surprised, you took the cup, feeling your fingers brush his briefly. “thank you,” you murmured, the warmth of the tea seeping through your fingers and into your skin.
you weren’t sure what to make of this new, considerate sunghoon—the same man who once enjoyed riling you up now seemed to be going out of his way to make you feel… cared for.
he didn’t leave, just watched you as you took a sip, his gaze holding a softness that made your heart flutter.
for a moment, you forgot the rivalry, forgot the teasing and the jabs.
all you saw was sunghoon, standing there with a quiet, almost hesitant expression, as if he, too, was trying to understand what was happening between you.
when he finally looked away, clearing his throat awkwardly, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.
the silence hung heavy with words left unsaid, and as he walked back to his desk, you felt a strange longing settle in your chest—a longing that surprised and confused you in equal measure.
a week before christmas, the company sent you and sunghoon out to oversee a local holiday event as part of a charity initiative.
the city was sparkling with lights, carols, and people bundled in scarves and coats, laughing and chattering as they browsed the decorated stalls.
snow had started to fall, dusting the sidewalks in soft white powder.
“stick with me,” sunghoon said, giving you a wink as he led the way through the crowd. “we wouldn’t want you to get lost in the holiday rush.”
“oh, please,” you retorted, rolling your eyes—but you fell into step beside him, the easy banter warming you against the chilly air.
you wandered through the market together, occasionally stopping to admire handcrafted ornaments or taste samples of hot peppermint chocolate.
sunghoon even bought you a gingerbread cookie shaped like a snowman, holding it out with a shy grin.
“it’s not much,” he said, as if embarrassed by the simplicity of it.
“it’s perfect,” you replied, surprised by how genuine your own smile felt.
you took a bite, savoring the sweetness, while sunghoon watched you with an expression that made your heart flutter.
as you made your way through the crowd, you felt his hand brush against yours, a barely-there touch that sent a thrill down your spine.
you glanced up at him, half-expecting a smirk, but his expression was serious, his gaze focused on you in a way that made your heart race.
for a few beats, neither of you spoke, the sounds of the bustling market fading into the background.
sunghoon’s gaze held yours, intense and unwavering, and you felt a strange, almost magnetic pull between you.
you didn’t realize how close you were standing until someone bumped into you from behind, breaking the moment.
sunghoon quickly reached out to steady you, his hand firm and reassuring on your arm.
“are you okay?” he asked, his voice a whisper, his eyes searching yours.
you nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of his hand on your arm. “yeah, i’m fine. thanks.”
he didn’t let go right away, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, just for a second, savoring the warmth and closeness.
when he finally released you, his fingers lingered just a moment too long, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake.
as the evening wound down, you found yourselves standing at the edge of the market, watching the snow fall softly around you.
the streetlights casted a dim, yellow warm glow over the scene, and you could see your breath mingling with his in the chilly air.
sunghoon shifted beside you, his expression unreadable. “you know, i never thought we’d actually get along,” he admitted, his tone quiet, almost hesitant.
“me neither,” you replied, feeling a strange, bittersweet ache in your chest. “guess it took the holidays to bring out the best in us.”
he chuckled softly, but there was something melancholy in his smile. “maybe. or maybe it just took us actually… seeing each other.”
the words hung heavy in the air, their meaning lingering between you.
for the first time, you realized that he hadn’t just been teasing you all those months—maybe he’d been reaching out, trying to connect in the only way he knew how.
and maybe… maybe you’d been doing the same.
the snow continued to fall, soft and silent, as you stood together in a moment that felt suspended in time.
the following monday, you walked into the office to find an unusual hyper buzz in the air.
coworkers were whispering, exchanging knowing looks, and as you made your way to your desk, you could feel their curious glances following you.
“what’s going on?” you finally asked one of your coworkers, trying to ignore the strange, uneasy feeling building in your stomach.
your coworker glanced at you, clearly excited to spill the news. “oh, didn’t you hear? sunghoon’s engaged! his family announced it over the weekend. isn’t that amazing?”
the words hit you like a slap—for a moment, you could only stare, the world tilting around you as the reality sank in.
engaged. park sunghoon was… engaged?
somehow, you managed to keep your composure, nodding along and murmuring something that sounded like congratulations.
but inside, you felt like your heart had been stepped on and crushed into a thousand pieces.
you hadn’t even realized how much he’d come to mean to you until that moment, until the possibility of him slipping out of your life loomed in front of you.
the warmth, the stolen glances, the lingering touches—they all felt like illusions now, shattered by the cold reality of his engagement.
and as the days passed, you found yourself pulling away, avoiding him, unable to face the ache that had settled in your chest.
you convinced yourself it was for the best, that distancing yourself would make it easier.
but each time you caught a glimpse of him—sitting at his desk, laughing with a coworker, or glancing your way with a confused expression—the pain flared, sharp and unyielding.
the annual company christmas party was an elaborate affair held at a high-end hotel ballroom, decked out with garlands, chandeliers wrapped in fairy lights, and a massive christmas tree in the center of the room.
you arrived alone, shivering as the chilly air picked at your bare arms—nerves prickling as you took in the festive crowd of coworkers mingling, laughing, and toasting to the holiday season.
you’d done your best to dress up, but an unmistakable heaviness clung to you—the weight of sunghoon’s engagement lingered, even after avoiding him—you couldn’t escape the haunting of park sunghoon.
you hadn’t spoken to him in days, going out of your way to avoid his attempts to talk.
he’d noticed, of course. the confused glances, the way his brow furrowed when he caught sight of you hurrying out of a room—those small, unspoken moments were like daggers, deepening the ache in your chest.
it hurt more than you’d thought possible, this distance, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to face him.
tonight, the ballroom was filled with the sounds of holiday classics, the gentle clinking of glasses, and the murmur of cheerful conversations.
you pushed your way through the crowd, greeting coworkers and accepting the occasional compliment, but your mind kept wandering, searching for him against your better judgment.
when you finally saw him, standing near the christmas tree in a tailored dark suit, your heart twisted painfully.
he looked… incredible, polished and confident as always, but there was something else in his eyes—a tension, a restlessness that you couldn’t place.
he was surrounded by a small group of colleagues, but he seemed distracted, his gaze scanning the room as if looking for someone.
you turned quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed you, and tried to lose yourself in the crowd.
but even as you made small talk with your coworkers, your attention kept drifting back to him, your heart stubbornly refusing to let go.
at some point in the evening, the lights dimmed, and the band began playing a slow, romantic melody.
a coworker you barely knew approached you, a friendly smile on his face as he offered his hand. “care for a dance?”
the last thing you wanted was to be dragged onto the dance floor, but the thought of standing alone, surrounded by the sight of happy couples, felt worse.
you accepted, letting him guide you to the center of the room.
the music was soft and gentle, filling the room like a quiet whisper—your dance partner was polite, talking amiably as you swayed to the music, but you barely heard a word he said.
your gaze drifted, unbidden, toward sunghoon. he was watching you, his expression hidden in shadow, but you could see the pain in his eyes—a pain that mirrored your own.
for a moment, everything else faded away.
the ballroom, the music, the dozens of people around you—all of it blurred into the background as you met his gaze.
it was a single, suspended moment, one that hung heavy with all the things left unsaid, all the secrets you’d kept bottled up.
sunghoon’s expression was raw, his eyes shining with an intensity that left you breathless.
he looked… devastated, as if the sight of you dancing with someone else was tearing him apart.
a flicker of hope sparked in your heart, but you quickly quashed it, reminding yourself that he was engaged.
and yet… the look in his eyes felt so real, so heartbreakingly genuine, that you almost believed he cared as deeply as you did.
when the song ended, you quickly excused yourself from your dance partner, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.
you retreated to the side of the room, fighting to steady your breath as you chugged a glass of champagne, all while trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside you.
moments later, the ceo stepped up to the front of the room, tapping the microphone and quieting the crowd.
he began his speech, thanking everyone for their hard work and loyalty over the past year, his words filled with the usual corporate platitudes.
you listened half-heartedly, your mind elsewhere, still reeling from the intensity of sunghoon’s gaze.
as the ceo’s speech drew to a close, he turned to sunghoon with a broad smile.
“and of course, we can’t end this night without congratulating our very own park sunghoon on his recent engagement!”
a round of applause erupted, and all eyes turned to sunghoon—he stood there, looking cornered, his face a mix of frustration and anguish as he glanced out at the crowd, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.
his gaze flicked to you for just a moment, but it was enough for you to see the raw emotion in his eyes—the pain, the longing, and something deeper, something desperate.
the applause began to fade, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the room as everyone waited for him to respond.
you held your breath, watching as he took a deep, steadying breath and then lifted his head, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally resting on you.
“i… i have something to say,” he began, his voice trembling just slightly, though he tried to mask it with a steady, confident tone. “my parents may have announced an engagement, but i… i can’t go through with it.”
a collective gasp rippled through the crowd, murmurs breaking out as people exchanged shocked glances.
sunghoon held his ground, his eyes never leaving yours, and you felt your heart pounding wildly, your entire body frozen as his words sank in.
“i can’t go through with it,” he continued, his voice stronger now, filled with a conviction that made your chest ache. “because… because i’m in love with someone else.”
his words echoed in the silence, hanging in the air like a confession to the whole world—the room was utterly still, every eye fixed on him, but he seemed oblivious to them all, focused solely on you.
your breath caught, and you felt a wave of shock and disbelief wash over you, mingled with a wild, desperate hope.
sunghoon took a step closer towards you, his eyes filled with an intensity that left you breathless.
“i’m in love with you, y/n. i’ve been so in love with you—for longer than i want to admit.”
the entire room was staring now, but all you could see was him.
your heart raced, your mind whirling as you struggled to process what he’d just said—part of you wanted to run, to escape the weight of all those eyes on you, but another part, a larger part, wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you and let yourself fall into his arms.
but it was all too much—the crowd, the confession, the overwhelming emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave.
without another word, you turned and fled, pushing your way through the stunned crowd, your heart pounding as you made your way outside.
the cold air hit you like a slap, shocking your senses and grounding you just enough to keep you from collapsing under the weight of it all.
you were barely halfway down the steps when you heard footsteps behind you.
“y/n! wait!”
you turned to see sunghoon jogging after you, his face pale, eyes wide with worry.
he reached for you, but you took a step back, shaking your head, barely able to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.
“why did you do that, sunghoon?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “why did you have to say all that in front of everyone?”
he looked at you, desperation etched into every line of his face. “because i couldn’t keep it inside anymore,” he said, his voice raw, broken. “i couldn’t pretend. not when… not when all i want is you.”
you shook your head, struggling to keep your composure. “you don’t understand. you can’t just… say things like that, sunghoon. you’re engaged—your family…”
“i don’t care about any of that!” he interrupted, his voice rising. “i don’t care about the engagement, the expectations, any of it. none of it matters if i can’t be with you.”
his words hung heavy in the air, and you felt your defenses crumbling, piece by piece.
but the fear, the uncertainty, was still there, clawing at you, refusing to let you give in.
“i don’t need your pity,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “i don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”
he looked at you, hurt flashing in his eyes. “this isn’t pity, y/n. i’m not trying to save you. i just… i just want to be with you.”
for a moment, you stood there, the silence between you filled with all the things left unsaid.
and then, before he could say anything more, you turned and walked away, the tears finally spilling over as you slipped into the cab and closed the door, leaving him standing there alone in the falling snow.
the next morning, you woke with a heavy heart, the memory of last night replaying in your mind.
you felt raw, vulnerable, and yet, there was a faint glimmer of hope buried beneath the ache—a hope that maybe, this was real.
your thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at your door.
you rose, heart pounding, and opened it to find sunghoon standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers, his eyes red-rimmed as if he hadn’t slept.
you’d expected sunghoon to be at the door, waiting with an apology or a question—but you hadn’t expected him to look so vulnerable.
his usual confidence was gone, replaced by a rawness that mirrored everything you’d felt since the night before.
the bouquet he held was a mix of wildflowers and holiday greenery—red berries and sprigs of pine woven among soft white flowers that stood out against the darkness of the early morning.
when you finally took the bouquet from his hands, your fingers brushed his, sending a jolt of warmth through you.
the simple touch said everything words hadn’t—the apology, the relief, and maybe most of all, the overwhelming sense of rightness that you couldn’t ignore any longer.
the silence stretched, each of you looking at the other, feeling the weight of all that had come before and the fragile hope for what might come next.
he looked at you, eyes searching your face with a hesitance that felt new, uncertain.
“y/n…” he began, his voice soft, each syllable filled with a vulnerability you’d never heard before.
“i know last night was… overwhelming. and i’m sorry if i put you on the spot, but i meant every single word.”
you felt your heart flutter, the sincerity in his gaze unshakable—he looked at you as if you were something precious, something he’d been waiting his whole life to hold close.
and that look, filled with quiet awe and devotion, undid every defense you’d carefully built over the years.
“i was afraid to believe it,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “i was so afraid that this would all be some fleeting thing for you. that i’d just be another distraction.”
his brows knit together in disbelief, and he reached up, gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek.
“a distraction?” he murmured, a trace of pain in his voice. “y/n, you’re the only person i’ve ever been able to be… real with. you see me—beyond my name, beyond the expectations. i didn’t know how much i needed that until i met you.”
for a moment, you just looked at him, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a warm blanket.
every snide comment, every misunderstanding, every late night spent working together—each memory replayed in your mind, and suddenly, it all made sense.
what you’d shared wasn’t just rivalry or convenience; it had been the start of something deeper, something real.
“i’ve wanted to hear that for so long,” you said, a soft laugh escaping you. “i just… i couldn’t admit it, not even to myself.”
a slow, relieved smile spread across his face, and he took a step closer, pulling you into a gentle hug. his arms wrapped around you, holding you close in a way that felt so natural, as if you’d been made to fit there.
he smelled faintly of cedar and pine, a comforting, earthy scent that made you feel warm and safe.
you could feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, grounding you as everything else melted away.
“then stay with me,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “stay with me, y/n. i’ll prove to you that this is real. that i’m all in.”
you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, searching for any hint of uncertainty.
but all you saw was unwavering devotion, a promise he seemed ready to carry for as long as you needed.
“i love you, sunghoon,” you said, feeling the words roll off your tongue, soft and unrestrained, like a sigh of relief after holding your breath for too long.
“i think… i’ve loved you for a long time. even when i couldn’t admit it, even when you drove me crazy.”
a soft laugh escaped him, and he looked at you with an expression filled with wonder, as if he, too, had been waiting his whole life to hear those words.
“i never thought i’d hear you say that,” he whispered, his voice thick with admiration and softness.
“neither did i,” you admitted, your smile mirroring his.
he leaned down, cupping your face with gentle hands as he closed the small distance between you.
his lips met yours in a kiss that was soft, warm, and filled with the quiet certainty that this was where you were meant to be.
the world around you faded, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the lingering taste of his kiss.
the weeks that followed felt like a dream.
for the first time, you let yourself enjoy the simplicity of being with him, unburdened by the anxieties that had once kept you apart.
sunghoon’s presence became a comfort, a steady warmth that you found yourself relying on more and more.
with christmas only a few days away, he insisted on taking you to a secluded cabin his family owned, nestled in a quiet of a forest just outside the city.
when you arrived, snow covered the ground in a perfect blanket, undisturbed and glistening under the faint light of a winter sunset.
the cabin was charmingly rustic, decorated with fairy lights and pine wreaths, and a cozy fire crackled in the stone fireplace, filling the room with a comforting warmth.
sunghoon stood behind you as you both took in the view, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“welcome to our first tradition,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with warmth.
“our first tradition?” you echoed, a smile playing on your lips.
he nodded, pulling you closer. “i want to spend every christmas with you. just like this—peaceful, just us. no crowds, no expectations. just you, me, and… maybe a cup of hot chocolate.”
you laughed, turning in his arms to face him. “i could get used to that.”
he smiled, reaching up to brush a snowflake from your hair—the gesture was so tender, so filled with quiet adoration, that your heart swelled with love for him all over again.
“let’s go inside,” he said, taking your hand. “there’s something i want to show you.”
you followed him into the cabin, where he led you to a small table by the window.
on it was a simple, carefully wrapped box with a red ribbon tied around it—he handed it to you, his eyes warm and expectant.
you opened the box to find a small, delicate charm bracelet with a single charm—a tiny snowflake, etched in silver.
it sparkled under the dim light, catching the glow from the fire.
“it’s beautiful, hoon..” you whispered, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift.
he reached out, clasping it around your wrist with a soft smile. “i wanted something that would remind you of this moment. of us.”
your throat tightened, and you looked up at him, feeling an overwhelming wave of gratitude and love.
he’d given you so much more than a gift—he’d given you a promise, a quiet assurance that he was in this for the long haul.
“thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “merry christmas, y/n.”
as you stood there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the snow began to fall outside, blanketing the world in a peaceful, serene quiet.
the warmth of the cabin, the gentle crackling of the fire, and the soft glow of fairy lights filled the space, making it feel like you were in your own little world.
and in that moment, you realized that everything you’d gone through—every argument, every misunderstanding, every long, quiet night spent wondering what could have been—had all been worth it.
because it had led you here, to this moment, to him.
the rest of the night was spent in quiet conversation, sharing dreams and hopes for the future as you watched the snow fall outside.
you talked about everything and nothing, feeling the joy of being together without any walls between you.
the future was a blank canvas, filled with endless possibilities, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to picture it—each memory, each holiday, painted with sunghoon by your side.
as the night drew to a close, you found yourself drifting off to sleep in his arms, the fire casting soft shadows across the room, wrapping you both in warmth.
sunghoon’s heartbeat was a steady lullaby, soothing and constant, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of it, knowing that this was only the beginning.
and as you closed your eyes, a single thought lingered, filling you with a quiet, profound happiness—
you were finally home.
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© WON4KISS 2024 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.
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endereies · 10 hours ago
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FEEL BETTER YET? - MS
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No Nut November - Day 7
NNN Masterlist...
-➤ When you are on your period, Matt is always there to look after you
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Every month you endured pain like no other, your abdomen puncturing you from the inside out. It was only 3am but it felt like you had been up for hours, tossing and turning to find any relief. Painkillers failed to aid you and if you moved too much, spurts of nausea floated around your body.
The one thing you were concerned about was not staining your boyfriend’s sheets underneath you. You had already changed a few times in the night, at that point it was better to stay there. The entirety of your body was pushed against the radiator, locating any lingering warmth you could without having to manually do it yourself.
It was agonising, the fact this had to happen at all to you made emotions sky rocket. The trembles of your body matched the way your breathing shuddered when your stomach clenched.
Just as another tear fell, the light above you flickered on.
“Baby? Fuck…are you okay?” Matt was by your side in an instant, his touch giving you the warm you desperately were trying to clutch onto. He was quietly analysing you and the scene in front of him as his concern increased. Each time you wanted to speak smoothly, the sharp pains constructed you. It just made you whimper in pain and it broke Matt’s heart.
He was used to you having rough periods, but this was on another level. You could breathe. You couldn’t think clearly, your mind fogged with the sheer agony within.
“Why aren’t you in bed baby, you could’ve woken me…you know that…” His tone was gentle and made you sob a few more tears before any words left.
“I- I didn’t want to bloody your sheets..or uh bother you…” You looked away once you saw his face twist into one almost filled with guilt. Independency was idolised by you, he saw it in everything you did. But he wanted to take care of you, this was the small sliver he had and he was going to use that.
“I’ll be back, okay? Just two seconds my love.” Just as quickly as he spoke, he left. The light above remained on, a signal he was still there. Rustling was heard in the distance but once the pain surged it was hard to focus on. Everything was too much. Towels bunched up around you, trying to protect you from the pain, no matter how much it didn’t work.
The sharp pains in your stomach had only gotten worse, even after medication. Every time that Matt crossed your mind it only made you feel so needy, clingy. Like a burden.
Matt returned quickly with his hands full on certain products you couldn’t quite make out. “So first off, I got the chocolates from the fridge I saved for you, and some of those sweets you like to chew…” The packets were held up as he showed them off to you. “I got some of the stronger medications for if you needed to top off with them, uh, I grabbed your socks too and just made a hot water bottle for you. I know last time was a little too hot, so I put some cold water into it as well. “
His gaze finally met your eyes, staring at the pile with tears forming. It was obvious you weren't blinking so that you didn't cry. You knew if you had tried to speak, your emotions would quickly be revealed, if they weren't already by your expression. Your lips switched into a small smile, full of gratitude towards him.
“I- Thank you…really”
“Anytime, I mean that. I just want to be here for you, no matter what.” You let out a small chuckle, allowing yourself to finally give into his efforts to take care of you, you needed it in the moment. Not that you’d admit that to him. He quickly placed the items on your his bed before returning to your side.
One arm reached under your knees while the other supported your back as he pulled you to his chest. It was warm and it was safe. You almost forgot about the pain. Almost.
He lowered you onto the mattress on your side of the bed before handing you the hot water bottle, along side your medication and a drink. He wanted to look after you, not overwhelm you. Matt pulled back from you, climbing under the duvet alongside you.
“I don’t want you to worry about the sheets or bothering me, just worry about yourself. You’re my priority and I never wanting you to think that ill ignore your pain. Never ever will I do that to you sweetheart.” His voice was barely heard over my breathing and a part of you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t.
Subconsciously your body drew close towards him, the heat of the bottle inching closer to his skin until your head lay on his shoulder. “Feel better yet?” You nodded slightly. The pain had subsided, the bottle and his words warming the aches away.
“I love you, you know that right?” A soft smile covered his lips, placing a light kiss on your head.
“I love you too..”
This was what you needed.
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@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03
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© ENDEREIES 2024
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xazse · 2 days ago
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mr compress x kittygirl hybrid! reader and i will worship the ground you walk 😣😣🙏🙏🙏
SWEET GIRL
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Synopsis: Mr.Compress feels a certain inkling and intensity within himself.
Notes: this is great I know you just submitted this really recent but I wanted to let some of my fans know that I will now write for MHA!!! SEND ME SOME STUFF (don’t worry to my others who have sent jjk requests I’m working on them<333)) (sorry I just had to do something with the league and them meeting kitty girl)
Pairings: Mr.Compress x KittyGirl!Hybrid
Warnings: Smut + mean!League Members + rough handling + rough kissing + fingering + penetration + Fem!reader + Hybrid!reader
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Mr.Compress had dragged in another stray: you he had known for at least a month before introducing you to the league. He found you digging through some rubble searching for food. He had felt extremely bad and just felt the need to take you.
So that’s what he did, he took you and you didn’t fight at all he just went, scooped you up. You looked a tad bit confused but when he gave you some food you were attached, he gave you plenty of opportunities to leave but every time you’d look around for him and once you found him you’d loop your arms with his and follow. It was downright adorable.
After some time had passed he chose to introduce you to his beloved league.
“She looks stupid, get her out.”
“That’s so mean Tomura! I think she looks adoreable!”
“You are very right Toga, Shigaraki isn’t used to cutesy things.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” The blue haired man exclaimed from the bar.
“Why not give er’ a change Shigaraki? She could prove to be useful.” Spinner is always trying to be the middle man, Mr.Compress can certainly rely on him to get you in good with everyone.
“Useful my ass.” Dabi’s the one who speaks up.
“It wouldn’t be wise for you to talk, you’re in the same boat as her.” Shigaraki backfires.
“Tried to help you, dick.”
It hadn’t even been 40 minutes sitting as the league chats and discusses various things, Toga and Twice won’t leave you alone they insist on playing with your tail and rubbing your pointy ears: pushing them back just to watch them pop right back in place.
You aren’t complaining one bit, you love the extra attention they’re giving you, you can’t quite make out what they’re saying but nonetheless you know it’s nothing but sweet words minus twice sometimes blurting random crude things.
Leaving them proves to be the worst, “tears” are exchanged when Mr. Compress is ready to depart and you have to leave the new friends you just made. He reassures you that you’ll be able to see everyone again very soon.
Mr compress loves you a tenth fold you’re impressed by his tricks others find to be unfunny but you will sit for hours and watch him show off, clapping with the biggest smile on your cute face. It drives him mad to have his own personal fan.
It makes his cock throb when he’s doing one of his tricks and you look so curious to find out what’s next, he can’t focus on finishing it when you’re swooning right in front of him, he basically attacks you with sloppy kisses.
His thick tongue invades your mouth, his actions aren’t careful, he needs to be inside you right now.
He sits on his hind legs and traps you with his thighs on either side. He takes his hard cock out and jerks himself a few times right over your exposed stomach. you’ve all of a sudden gone shy on him, trying to avoid the intense way he’s staring down at you.
He stops for a moment to rid you of your bra, then your panties whilst also undressing himself fully too.
Even after all this time you’re still hiding your body from him like he hasn’t explored every single inch of you. He pays that no mind and moves to rub your cunt, he makes sure not to directly touch your clit.
He moves his skillful fingers around your lips, dipping in and out of your hole to get you used to the feeling. Sweet moans slip from your throat, your breath hitches everytime he so much as grazes the englared bud.
Impatient Compress starts full on fucking you with his fingers, he has to use a little of his strength to keep your leg nice and still for him. You’re full on moaning, it feels so damn good, the way his fingers abuse your wet hole in the meanest motions he can muster.
He makes eye contact with you when he pulls his fingers out and licks them, making sure to clean them dry.
He’s got you plenty wet, he rubs the tip of his cock in between your lips even touching your sensitive clit, he hadn’t even made you cum and you’re already so jumpy.
His thick cock starts to push inside you, slowly filling you of him, taking him is no walk in the park, he’s more long than anything, you grip whatever you can as he pushes past your tight hole.
Atsuhiro lets you adjust to him, he can hear slight sniffling from you, poor thing, he’ll make you happy in just a moment: that moment being now, he pushes your legs a little towards your torso angling his cock more snuggly.
Atushiro is never one to rush sex with you, he likes to be in the moment so he can enjoy and really feel you but now he can’t wait, he starts thrusting fast and deep, your fat cunt accepting every inch so easily now.
He’s been obsessed with your pussy the first day you and him had sex, you’re so tight and warm, he draws his hips back all the way letting his cock fall out to admire the slick it’s covered in, just to slam right back into you.
“Nnng..”
“Feels… so good Sako..” your moans sound so choked up in your throat, making you all the more desperate for more clearly.
His face is a beautiful shade of pink, groans mixed with yours slipping from his bitten lips, you truly don’t know the effects your cunt has on him, everytime he pulls back you suck him right back in.
Your tail has a mind of its own when it wraps around his torso, moving along with the rhythm of his hips.
You wipe the tears that have found their way to your face, your body spasms in that familiar way, along with your pussy tightening even more around him. He holds you down by your tummy, securing you in place so you don’t thrash everywhere.
He slams down in you one last time, pushing you right over the edge you cum with a loud yelp followed by quiet whines that die down, through this whole thing he’s praising you, kissing your soddened cheeks.
Your chest rapidly tries to calm down, feeling the aftershocks of a nasty orgasm.
Later that night he makes sure to rub your pointy ears and cuddle you as close as possible.
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thatgaydemigodnerd · 23 hours ago
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Brucie Wayne had wandered off to find the bathrooms. This excuse would buy him around 10 minutes of time to find the Penguin's plans. He was definitely planning something.
What Bruce didn't expect was the joker to bust the Gala. He'd hoped it would've been the riddler this time, or maybe even Harley and Ivy.
So now of course the whole building was on lockdown, if he could slip away he could make an appearance as-
He was being tackled.
"Where are you going you idiot! There's a Joker attack," hissed a familiar voice. Ah, Danny Fenton. Time to play up the Brucie act again.
"Joker? Oh I would love to hear a joke. Do you think he can make balloon animals? He's a clown right?" Oracle giggled over the comms, no doubt watching through the security cameras.
"Does he... How do you not know how dangerous he is! You live here!" Danny got up off of him and dragged him to a side room, clearly a small office of some accountant, and locked the doors behind them.
"Joker was in the main gala hall last time I saw him, he was not looking for you as far as I heard. Pretty sure he just wants attention from Batman like usual." Oracle confirmed he still is in the main gala hall with the hostages. Dick would need to show up as batman today, Bruce couldn't slip away. He pressed the button hidden on his cufflink to indicate he was stuck in civvies but not in immediate danger. Oracle would handle the rest.
"Oh, that's a shame. I was hoping he would give me a balloon animal." He pulled a sad face, like a child that's been told they can't have candy before dinner.
"How. How are you the richest man on the planet? How has someone not scammed you out of all your money yet? You'd fall for the first nigerian prince scam someone sent you. How did Gotham not eat you alive?" He looked like he was about to tear his hair out.
Bruce looked at his body language, he's still keeping his voice down despite his anger, and he always keeps the door in his field of vision. When he entered he did a quick scan of the place, eyes landing on the airvents, clearly considering them an emergency means of escape.
If he was bullied he would be vigilant, but this level of vigilance and calm during an emergency situation, especially the gotham rogues, would not be explained so easily. Clearly this young man has done some vigilante work himself. He would need to take a closer look at the amity park hero after this.
Welp, time to mess with him.
"Oh no I'm not related to a nigerian prince, he's actually somalian. Such a nice lad, I really should book a flight to Somalia and visit him. So nice of him to reach out and offer me part of the inheritance. Almost as nice as the Zimbabwean family who also offered me part of their inheritance."
Danny was tearing at his hair, he looked about ready to beat him to a pulp.
"I know I don't have much of a Somalian or Zimbabwean complexion, but with the gotham air who can expect me to truly get any sun, such a shame. I should go to the beach more of-" there was a knock at the door.
Oracle confirmed it was Red Robin here for extraction.
"Oh who could that be? Maybe it's that clown? You think he'll give me a balloon animal?" He had moved to the door and unlocked it before danny could pull him back.
"Sorry to disappoint mister Wayne, but the only balloon animal I can make is a worm. Let's get you two out of here."
Danny let out a sigh of relief, no doubt glad to pass off Brucie wayne to the local vigilantes.
He'll get more fun next gala he's sure. Besides, danny keeps showing up to these. He's not even part of the Mansons, their daughter keeps inviting him and he keeps saying yes. Clearly he is also enjoying this, or he thinks brucie would die without him.
Danny keeps on meeting Brucie Wayne at Galas when he goes to keep Sam company. He hates the man. There is no adoption, no adoption jokes, he never meets Batman. Give me Danny Fenton and his unending beef with Brucie Wayne. Bruce finds this absolutely hilarious. This feisty 14 year old is incredibly fun to antagonize.
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hanjiwuver · 2 days ago
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Could you maybe do one of seungmin getting mad at you in public for wearing revealing clothes, ty!
Seungmin Drabble #1
*~Disobeying Dom Seungmin~*
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pairing: hard dom!seungmin x sub!reader
warnings: MEANIE PANTS SEUNG! no smut but very suggestive, lots of degredation, reader is called a bitch, i think thats it.
note: personally…i could never disobey him but thats just me🐶 good luck with that tho!
heres ur order!! smut under the cut!!!!!!!!!!!
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it was going to be a perfect night. your boyfriend seungmin finally got reservations for that fancy, expensive diner you’ve been dying to go to.
the only problem was..you were running a little late.
you took a nice, long shower beforehand, using all the scents you know he loves on you. laying out three different dresses on your bed, you quickly tried to decide which one would be the best fit for tonight’s important date.
one was grey, and wrapped your body elegantly with silk fabric. the second was light pink, with a high cut waist and a frilly bottom, seungmin loves that one. and the third…oh.
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seungmin hates this dress. he specifically told you not to wear it in public anymore. its was a black, hollow out dress with sheer fabric and strings where there wasn’t your boobs or your ass showing. nothing different than a stripper dress.
now, you know seungmin better than anyone. and when he says he hates that dress, its not because its ugly in any way, shape, or form. no. the way you look in that dress could make even him fall to his knees for you.
it’s because of the attention it brings to HIS precious girl. seungmin isn’t an insecure man either, he obviously wants to show you off on his arm when you get all dolled up for him, but with THAT dress? you couldn’t even get a few feet away from him without being approached or even made a pass at.
he knows you would never leave him for another guy, he just can’t stand people sizing up his pretty little prey like wild beasts. so, you aren’t allowed to wear it per his rules, fine. but honestly, you’ve always wondered what would happen if you disobeyed him.
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so..maybe you wore the dress anyway..how bad could this go, right? now the problem was, how to get there.
normally he would pick you up in his car, but you know for a fact he would make you change immediately. so that was out. maybe you could just text him?
minnieeee?
hi, sweet baby🩷 you ready to be picked up?
uhhh
hm?
actually min, can i drive myself and meet you there? i have a suprise for you.
uh oh.
WDYM UH OH
that can’t be good. you’re scaring me💀
ITS JUST A SUPRISE OKAY
…its the dress isn’t it?
..no actually! its a secret so you’ll know when i get there so i actually have to go now and walk my fish see you soon love you bye-
we’ll see.
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your nerves are alight as you pull into the parking lot, biting your lip in fear and arousal at how seungmin will deal with you. you’ve never disobeyed him before, always wanting to recieve his sparing praise and not cause a fuss.
your heels click against the floor as you step into the new diner, looking like the most expensive thing there. the confidence you’re radiating is only surface level though, the truth is, if you had a tail right now it would be tightly tucked between your legs.
when the host tells you where seungmin is sitting, you hesitantly make your way over. he is indeed there, he smiles at you sweetly before looking down at that dress. that stupid fucking dress.
he looks back up into your eyes with a dissapointed, mean glare in his. if you were at home, that look would have you begging for forgiveness. you immediately look down, shying away from his gaze as you put your purse down and bow slightly at him.
“hey, seungmin..”
“sit down.”
the demand has you plopping down in your seat without hesitation. his tone is clear and calm, but equally cold.
“i thought i told you not to wear that dress. hm? or are you just too dumb and slutty to remember my rules?
oh. his harsh words make your thighs rub together, still refusing to meet his eyes.
“m’sorry..”
“sorry what.”
“so..so sorry, sir.”
“look at you. i do all these nice things for you, give you all my attention and look where it gets me. is my attention not enough? need it from the other manwhores here? i think you’re just too much of a slut to be thankful.”
his words have bite, making you equally feel bad for disobeying and almost drool from the degradation.
“yes sir, im a slut, sir.”
“i know you are.”
“just..wanted to see what you’d do..”
“want a punishment? is that what the dumb whore wants? hm?”
“um..depends what it is?”
“you don’t get to choose, stupid.”
“…well, what are you gonna do then?”
seungmin leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and looking at you with an amused expression. only this time do you meet his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes expectantly. seungmin scoffs.
“don’t fucking look at me.”
your eyes shoot down, just listening to him obediently. he leans forward to whisper in your ear.
“..when we get home, im ripping that slutty stripper dress off of you for good this time. then, im gonna muzzle you and make you beg for me to pound that slutty pussy like a good bitch. then lastly..you’re writing lines, sweetheart.”
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sorry for ending it there..u just look so cute when ur teased<3 order again soon!🐶
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drewsarms · 1 day ago
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𓍼 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜
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𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི more dark/icky!rafe bc you guys seems to loveeee him. Heavily inspired by these two post!! post 1 post 2
warnings: I would like to say I do not condone abuse or domestic violence. do NOT try to clock me. This is all fantasy. You have been warned. This is very…sinister maybe disturbing for some so proceed and read with caution. mentions of ownership, branding, slapping, spitting, tear licking, corruption, manipulation, very slight mentions of blood, 18+ mdni!!
If you sat and thought about the situation that you were in now it may seem troubling. You found yourself always asking how you’d end up with Rafe. With his actions. The people from The Cut and Figure 8 asks the same things to themselves and among their peers. You were such a sweet girl (still are). Always helping out when needed. Always being at arms reach for anyone despite what the situation was but now…now it was different. Instead of being there for everyone else it was always Rafe. Rafe was always in the picture. The cold hard stares you’d recieve from people did bother you to an extent but then again you were happy. If the word happy could ever describe it. Being up under Rafe and always at his service was something you loved, something that you’d never thought would bring you so much joy.
Fortunate was the word to describe it. To describe your connection with Rafe. Many girls would have loved to be in your place, right? The busted lip. The bruising. The branding from his ring. The burn mark from his bike when you tried to leave him. The accusations of your mind slipping to places it shouldn’t have been. Does he really love me? Why is he doing this? Is this wrong? But to you, the markings made up for it. The markings were your answer. I mean, why would he put markings that people could see, that people would know who you belonged to if he didn’t truly love you?
You found yourself stumbling in the bathroom, almost teary eyed from how hard Rafe pulled your hair when you asked him a question. “Can I go cover these bruises up? People are staring.” That was all you asked. You didn’t think it would cause such a commotion. As you rubbed your bruises, remembering what happened the last time, you overheard girls whispering as you stared at yourself in the mirror fixing your makeup. Do you think she lets him do that to her? She was such a sweet girl before. You would’ve never thought something like that would happen to her. How could she stay with a man who beats her?
“Beats me?” You thought. No. It wasn’t “beating” it couldn’t have been. It was love. At least that’s what he told you when you’d cry for him to stop. That’s what you believed. You believed any and everything that came out of Rafe’s mouth.
Wiping away your tears, trying your best to seem like you handled the situation you found Rafe amongst his friends. Your grabbed gently at his bicep. “Can we please leave. There’s something I need to talk about.” That was it. That was the last thing you remembered to come out of your mouth coherently as Rafe dragged you out of the truck and into his room.
Marks covered your entire body as you laid on the bed. A faint taste of blood swirling in your mouth, mixed with Rafe’s spit that he watched trickle down your throat, as you looked up at him in fear. “How many fucking times have I told you not to ask me questions like that?” A harsh slap coming down against your cheek and then your swollen pussy. You whined, trying so hard to conceal your cries. You didn’t want him to think he was hurting you. You didn’t want him to know how bad this was affecting you. You wanted to be his good little girl and crying because you were in pain wasn’t going to show that. “I’m so-sorry daddy. I promise it won’t happen again!” Rafe’s mind was somewhere else as he positioned three fingers against your sopping hole. “You said that the last time didn’t you bun?” Rafe pushed three fingers inside you of you, releasing a stringed cry from your lips.
You were already a mess. Bruises forming on your skin from his fist and spit dripping off your face as Rafe rubbed it in, ruining your makeup more than your tears ever could. You pressed your legs together hoping he’d go easy. But that was the thing. Rafe never went easy. Especially when he was like this. He absolutely loved doing this to you, more than he’d like to admit and secretly you loved it too.“Open those legs or I’m gonna make it worse for you.” How much worse could this possibly get? How much farther could he take this? That was a question to an answer didn’t want to feel, you didn’t want to find out. Rafe added another finger as he watched you stretch out around him. He reached up and pinched your nipples. Your mind was completely blank at this point. The only feeling you had was the fuzziness coming from your stomach down to your feet and the harsh lingering feeling of his slaps all across your body. “This will fucking teach you, won’t it?” Rafe started to slide his fingers in and out of you faster making you soak his sheets. The feeling of regret and somewhat wavered thoughts ran across the frontal lobe of your brain. What was left of it anyway.
Was this luck? Was this what you considered to be fortunate? Your tears welled up in your eyes, coming down like hurricane rain. You began to hiccup and sniffle as you reached out for Rafe, hoping to feel that sense of comfort that always made you realize that he loved you, that this is what you wanted. Rafe cups your face as he stares blankly at your witless expression, eyes widened and brows raised. “Aw bunny. Are those tears? It feels good doesn’t it?” Rafe slowly licks your tears while moaning against your face. If you were in your right mind you’d tell him no, it didn’t feel good, but as corrupted as you were it felt like a high you couldn’t, didn’t, want to come down from. You shook your head earning another harsh slap, this time right against your mouth, making you bleed more promptly. “Answer me.” An elated screech came from your swollen lips as he pumped faster now adding a fourth finger. “Y-yes daddy! Please don’t stop!” And he wasn’t. Not until you were a shaking, panting, whining, pleading, eye rolling mess for him. Not until you realized that what he was doing to you, what he’d say to you, was the right thing. After all, Rafe was doing this because he loved you and those kisses to your forehead while he whispered how good you were for him proved it.
The love for him was unbearable. This is what love was. This was Rafe’s way of showing just how much you meant to him. How could you have ever questioned him?
Taglist 🏷️: @nemesyaaa @starkeysprincess @starkeyslove @venic-bxtch @archiveofvirtue @rafeyscurtainbangs @rafesangelita @fae-of-prey @bunnyrafe @wearemadeofstardust0 @starkeysbebe @shellxrls @erwinsvow
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gotskamstuff · 20 hours ago
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I am actually heartbroken right now, there’s no other way I have to describe it if not heartbreak and the thing is that I don’t even mean it because of the emotions evoked by the story, it’s actual pain by seeing my favorite show being ruined.
‘Cause I’m sorry but the show is forever ruined for me and I won’t be able to look at it with the same eyes ever again. I’ve said it once before when we were discussing rumors and I’ll say it once again now that we have seen it become a reality…this to me goes behind JJ being a fan favorite and even behind the ship, this is genuinely something that made me lose trust in the storytelling and in the core that’s this show.
This makes no sense, ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE.
Once again I’ll repeat it, I’m no snowflakes when it comes to characters death in shows (hello? Game of thrones fan here? I suffered like a dog) but damn, there’s gotta be a sense for a character dying and there’s absolutely none here, this is also not the type of show when it would be needed.
I’ve always said it and a character like JJ could’ve ended only in ONE WAY to give justice to him and to his story: LIVING HIS FUTURE.
When I say this ruins how I view the show and my trust in the storytelling I mean it with my whole chest, this has ruined JJ’s story from season 1 episode 1 “The Pilot” to this day, JJ’s ENTIRE story doesn’t mean anything anymore…what was the reason for all this? JJ’s story has always revolved around him never believing to have a righteous future in store for him, never believing he could have something good for himself and you get the idea, his whole story arc was about him never seeing anything for him…and he doesn’t? HE ACTUALLY DOESN’T HAVE A FUTURE? What was the point? What was the poiny of seeing JJ struggling from day 1? What was the point of exploring his insecurities? What was the point of seeing him falling in love? This is what I find the most heartbreaking, if I put season 1 episode 1 on right now and I see JJ on my screen, the first thing that comes to mind is: What was the point of any of this? If he never overcame his struggles and still didn’t get closure with Luke? If he died still believing only a episode earlier that he still didn’t have a future for him? If he still struggled to accept the love and never overcame his insecurities? If he never got that future he dreamed about? (which yeah ok he got for like what? 5 minutes of screentime) …what was the point in JJ’s entire story if he never got to prove himself wrong?
The only right way a character like JJ could’ve seen his story end with dignity would’ve literally been living that future he was sure he’d never have: have a house, a job, a family, HAVE KIDS, grow old not being a drunk in prison. And they killed him TWICE in my opinion, physically and also morally by making him die not being himself and still with all that anger and fear inside him and without his story ever finding closure.
None of this does justice to JJ’s story and his arc.
This is honestly what I can’t wrapped my head around, the reason why JJ was a fan favorite was not casual…it was because of his story, when we say “we watch for JJ” is because he’s one of those characters in a show that you’re rooting for, that you wanna see defeat the odds and get the ending his heart deserves…and I’m sorry to the writers because unintentionally they made him the protagonist just as much as John B if not even more at times. When we say there’s no excitement to watch the show now this is the reason: what’s there to root for if we were rooting for their better future and this was the whole story SINCE SEASON ONE?
I had big hopes for this season and I actually enjoyed part 1 but wow was I let down, this ending just killed the entire show for me…there’s no sense in this.
I know I’m repeating myself now but I can’t stress this enough, it destroyed the show ‘cause it ruined the entire purpose of the story. Looking back now nothing about JJ’s story was worth the pain and suffering he went through and looking forward what’s there to say anymore? They’re gonna go hunt for this crown and get rich? Ok, wasn’t the whole moral of the story about the real treasure being their found family?
I loved this show since April 2020 and I would’ve gladly watched it for YEARS AND YEARS ON, but wow I would’ve rather seen it end in the trilogy or with this season with a different ending, leaving a good memory.
I’m not gonna lie…I knew this was gonna happen, I tried to not trust the rumors and I tried to think rationally but when Rudy and the producer unfollowed each other, when Rudy didn’t share anything about S5, when in part the whole story was building around the Pouges being mad at JJ and not saying “I love you back” I kinda figured AND STILL I was hoping to be wrong and I was hoping to be pleasantly surprised ‘cause I knew how bitter it would’ve left me.
And I mean it, I’m heartbroken AND MAD. The story totally ruined.
And can I get this straight, everyone is already jumping on Rudy’s ass ‘cause yeah let’s be real, he probably was done with the show and and all that jazz and it’s not cool at all, but IT HAPPENS ALL THE TIME…actors ask to leave shows all the time and in the end it’s still the writers call to decide how to make it happen, there are tons of different ways to write a character off ESPECIALLY A CHARACTER LIKE JJ, who always had that element of spontaneous take outs and with the blank paga that they had with the “surf trip”. There’s only ONE season left, I don’t think that Rudy would’ve refused if asked “hey of we can work around this, how about 5 minutes of screen time in the final episode?”…an open ending for his character that left the audience wonder “what’s JJ doing around the world?” “Where did he go?” would’ve been much more dignified for his story. In the end if they put a definitive ending to him and it was THEIR decision.
I’m actually devastated and I know it sounds exaggerated but this to me has also ruined the entire Jiara community as well…like what do we have left?
There was still so much they had left to their own story, KIARA’S STORY!! What was the point for her to fight so hard for him? to lose everything for him and get what in the end? TO HAVE HER WHOLE STORY REVOLVE AROUND HIM (‘cause that’s exactly what they did this season)? What a waste.
And it makes me incredibly sad ‘cause it has ruined all my excitement towards this part of the fandom that we built a community around…waht do we do with Jiara now? There was still so much I wanted to write for them in fictions and wanted to read from others but this has for the moment completely ruined my motivation to write for them and to even read their ff, knowing their story in canon ended and ended tragically, there’s nothing for their future. This is what I find so sad, there was left NOTHING to the imagination, nothing to let us wonder about their future.
This story ended today and I’ll never be able to look at it the same IF I’LL look at it. What’s the point of a story moving forward if the thing people were rooting for is gone? What are we rooting for if the Pogues are dead and the family is done? ‘Cause yeah, JJ was the core of the Pogues.
I find hard to believe that season 1 and 2 are the same show from season 3 and 4. The writing killed the show for good.
I hope WITH ALL MY HEART that I’ll be able to find back my excitement for my favorite show once again and that I’ll still be able to enjoy Jiara’s content again but I really find it impossible now.
I would’ve never thought that OBX, that show I watched in 2020 with genuine admiration for its story and way of portraying it could’ve been ruined like this. 💔
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hotdsworld · 1 day ago
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"Property" Aemond Targaryen
Aemond Targaryen x F!Stark!Reader
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a/n: hello again! Y'all, ofc I'm getting back with more horny. Starting off with hotd but I have a fair share of filthy also for Avatar lovers. Dividers from lovely @cafekitsune
Summary: An arranged marriage or not, that man still belongs to you and you only.
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Word count: 3,2k
Warnings: 18+, subby Aemond, hair pulling, 69, piv, handjob, no protection, breeding, bondage, impreg, dom Reader
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You were the Lady of the North, younger sister of the formidable Cregan Stark. Your heart was as cold and unyielding as Winterfell itself, yet it seemed to beat a little bit differently whenever he was with others. It was beneath you to be jealous, especially of your arranged husband, whom you claimed to not care for. Prideful as you were, your pride seemed insignificant now as you watched the wench clinging to his arm. It wasn't the jealousy that gnawed at you, it was the disrespect he showed towards your marriage. Arranged or not, it was still a marriage.
The other ladies mingled with such ease, their charm and beautiful smiles flowing effortlessly. Why was it so difficult for you? You were his wife, yet you couldn't seem to catch his attention as they did. Sometimes, you wish you learned the art of charm instead of hunting… it would make everything so much easier.
Once his eye met yours you shook your head, feigning disinterest. Aemond smirked, clearly relishing the sight of you bothered by him receiving the attention of another lady. Was it the jealousy that fueled your glare, or did you truly despise him to look at him with such disdain? It didn't matter to Aemond. He knew that a wolf can be tamed, it just requires patience… and he had plenty of it. He had no interest in other ladies especially when they spoke of nonsense he did not wish to hear about, but seeing you like this? Looking as if you wanted to murder the lady and even him for looking at her? He could not resist teasing you a bit, enjoying the fire in your eyes. Aemond leaned a little closer to the lady, who seemed so joyful about the little gesture. You rolled your eyes, getting back to the castle. You wished to stay composed and something about Aemond chatting so nicely with others made your blood boil.
It was evening. The time when Aemond could finally relax if only a little. His perfectly straight hair had now taken on its natural curls, a look you secretly preferred, though you would never admit it. You watched him intently, as if there was something new to discover. He was sitting by the fire, absentmindedly playing with his fingers. You wondered what he was thinking about… his family? Your marriage? You didn't turn your gaze from him even for a second. You couldn't deny his attractiveness, biting your lip as you imagined all the things those slender fingers could do to you-
“Perhaps you are somewhat a predator. Always watching, no?” His voice broke the silence, pulling you out of your thoughts. Though he didn't turn to look at you, you felt the full weight of his attention on you. He was a mystery yet to be solved. You took a deliberate step closer, your eyes running all over his figure, almost appreciatively. He was truly like prey to you, and it was up to you what you were going to do with him. You took a step towards him, wondering if you should sit on the armchair beside him or remain standing. Standing was putting you in the dominant position, sitting offered some kind of intimacy… You crossed your arms on your chest.
“If you know I'm watching it means you are observing too,” you remarked, not failing to notice the slight crack in his smile. Aemond didn't expect his wife to be so perceptive. The realization seemed to amuse him. You licked your lips, carefully considering your next move. The room was filled with unspoken tension, a silent battle of wills.
“One would want to know what his wife is up to, don't you think?” A hint of challenge in his tone. You would gladly take one. You moved closer, stopping right in front of him. He was much taller than you, but now that he was sitting he was the one who needed to look up. His eye took in your face even though he knew it like the back of his hand. You were always hidden in Winterfell, he needed to admit: his mother made a great choice to betroth him to you. Such a hidden gem… who would have thought? Aemond never seemed so fascinated by a lady until now.
You leaned in slightly, your presence commanding his full attention, and he was gladly giving it to you. Your fingers traced a light path down his hair. So soft and silky… you always wondered how it would feel beneath your fingers. You tugged on it, unable to stop yourself. Aemond tensed, not respecting such boldness from you. His reaction only fueled your confidence. You moved even closer, your breath warm against his neck. You didn't know why you were getting close… you felt the need to claim and the prey was right there, ready to be devoured. You sat on his lap comfortably, your fingers trailing to his collar… your touch was light but deliberate. His eye followed your every movement, a mix of curiosity and desire in his gaze. You leaned closer, your lips brushing against his sensitive neck. Aemond began to breathe heavily; he felt like if you didn't stop, he was going to rip your clothes apart and take you right there on the floor like a teasing slut that you are.
“What do you want?” His voice husky. Aemond felt that if you asked him nicely, he would do anything for you. You were dangerous, perhaps he underestimated you and your power. You pretended to think about it, even though you knew damn well what you needed from him.
“I want you to take your clothes off,” you stood up. His jaw clenched as your touch left him abruptly. Aemond hated being submissive, but somehow deep inside of him made him remove his tunic. You watched with fascination almost. “The eyepatch too. I want you to be truly naked.” You had him concerned, your prey… maybe the hunting skills are useful here after all. He stood naked as you admired him in his full glory. It seemed like all the training paid off. You couldn't help but think of what you wanted to do to him… you wanted to own the Targaryen Prince. You wanted him to be completely and utterly yours. You grabbed a few of your ropes which were hidden beneath the bed. Aemond raised his eyebrow, as if questioning you..
“Do you want me to tie you up, Zokli?” Aemond could already imagine you squirming underneath him as he pounds into you without any breaks, he would have you screaming.
“That little wolf is going to tie YOU up, dragon.” Aemond didn't even have a chance to protest. You pushed him back on the bed, your hands working swiftly on the knots. After you restricted his movement, you tied him up to the bed; he was completely at your mercy… It was new to Aemond, but he found himself finding it exciting. His cock rock hard, begging for attention.
“Aren't you going to undress too?” He wanted to see his little wolf naked. He wanted to admire your boobs and that gorgeous ass. You smirked, sitting on the bed beside him. Painfully close, yet not touching him. Aemond was frustrated, any woman would have been pleasuring him by now or begging for him to take her… but not you.
“Bold of you to assume you deserve to see it, my lord husband,” your fingers moved up his thigh. Before, you wouldn't expect that you would get the Targaryen prince in such a position. You found yourself enjoying it more than you should. You paused right before your hand could touch his cock, Aemond groaned, clearly displeased with your teasing.
“Do you see how hard I am for you, Zokli?” Aemond wanted to boost your ego, he just needed you to touch him. It felt like his balls were going to explode. How could he allow you to trap him like this? Maybe you were a witch, that would explain everything…
“Tell me,” your fingers trail around the length of his cock. You wanted it inside of you so bad, but you couldn't just let him have it all right away. Aemond looked into your eyes, curious of what you wanted to hear from him. He would do anything to feel more of you, no matter how much he despised himself for it. You spit on your hand to smear it all over his cock a while later. You began to stroke slowly, not breaking eye contact. Aemond grunts as your touch sends waves of pleasure through his body. “Tell me how much better I am than them. Tell me they don't get you as hard as I do,” maybe you were outing yourself by asking for it, but you needed to hear it. You needed to know your lord husband treasures you the most. You wanted him obsessed, unable to look away from you. Aemond did want to tease you for your jealousy but he answered before his brain could register it.
“They will never be as interesting as you. In a room full of women I see only you. It matters not if my gaze is on them, in my head there's only you. The best fucking thing is you don't seem to notice how tempting you are. If I look at you for too long I'm already leaking precum, princess” he will hate himself after for it, but right now his judgment was clouded by pleasure. His pride didn't matter, none of it mattered. Only the feeling of your hand moving up and down his cock. “Don't stop,” it was a demand, it was supposed to be a demand but it came out more like a plea. Aemond could feel himself getting closer. He didn't settle for ladies of a brothel or the court, so his balls were full. You paused, savoring the moment, the power you held over him. Aemond clenched his jaw as you ruined his orgasm. You giggled innocently, getting rid of your gown. Aemond admired your body, he wished he could suck on those breasts. You were perfect.
“Now now, I deserve some pleasure too, don't you think? You can't move, I know” you straddled his face, your dripping wet pussy hovering over his face. You leaned down forward, to get the access to his cock, settling nicely in sixty-nine position.
“Sit on my face, stop fucking playing,” he growled, eager to get a taste of you. If he wasn't tied up he would pull you down and eat you out until tomorrow, but you have to be fucking clever. You offered him a few playful kisses on the tip before sucking on the head of his cock, your hands grasping his balls, massaging them. You were gradually taking him deeper, sucking eagerly as your hands played with his balls. Aemond's eye surrounded as a moan left his lips. You lowered yourself on his face, knowing that he's close but he didn't complain, licking all over your wet folds before pushing his tongue inside of you. He was sloppy with eating you out, humming and moaning both from the way you sucked his cock and how you tasted. You kept going, moaning around his cock, moving your hips to get more of his tongue. You were getting close and so was he… when you felt him tense you straightened your back, getting away from his cock. Aemond groaned against your cunt, but didn't stop his ministrations. You were cruel, but maybe he did deserve it for teasing you for days. You pulled on his curls as the pleasure began to build up, unable to control yourself. You needed to hold onto something and his hair was perfect for it. You closed your eyes, desperately pulling on his hair and moving your hips. With every pull his cock twitched, Aemond felt like he was going to cum untouched. You pulled once more as the orgasm washed over you, your thighs shaking. Aemond eagerly devoured your sweet juices, licking you clean. You closed your eyes, taking a moment to catch your breath. You sat beside him, fingers running down his abs.
“You are going to pay for this,” he threatened, even though it sounded rather pathetic now. You straddled him lazily, grinding against his cock. He was painfully hard and you found yourself enjoying driving him crazy in such a way.
“Now now, be nice or you won't get to fuck my pussy, my lord husband” you grinned, grinding against him. You wanted it as much as he did, but you had to punish him for getting too friendly with those wenches, no? He deserved to be treated like this, he deserved to be forced into submission.
“Stop teasing,” he groaned, clearly frustrated. Aemond needed to cum, he needed to feel your pussy, he needed to fuck you. No matter how hard he struggled against the ropes they wouldn't give in. You smiled innocently, looking at him as if you had no idea of what he was talking about. It turned into an evil smirk real quick. Your fingers playing with his hair.
“Beg me. Beg me to ride you, Aemond. I want you to beg and convince me that you are only mine,” you tugged on his hair, as if urging him to do as you wished. Aemond closed his eye, frustrated with you. He was torn between obeying and telling you off. How dare you? Asking a Prince to beg for a fuck? There were many eager for him, yet he chose to chase after you. His cock was aching and he wasn't thinking clearly, he needed to be inside of you. To beg was to show weakness, and it wasn't something he could afford. Yet, you held more power over him than he would like to admit.
“I don't beg,” he said sharply, trying to detach himself from the situation. He couldn't allow you to dominate him, not like this. Aemond never begged in his life and he didn't wish to change it. Aemond acted as he wasn't the pathetic one, all tied up, just waiting for your mercy.
“Prideful as ever, Aemond. But pride won't get you what you desire,” you grind against him, as to remind him what he can get if he begs. Aemond wanted to strangle you right there, how could you play with him like this? If he allows this… what else will he allow? You were dangerous.
“Laughing now… you won't be laughing once the ropes are off,” a predatory gleam in his eye. Aemond was too deep in this. He needed you, right here right now. Aemond took a deep breath, cursing himself. “You want me to beg?” His voice dropping to a whisper. You watched him intently, noticing how hard it is for him. “Please, Zokli. I need you more than anything else. I would set the Realm on the fire if you asked me to. Your every wish shall be my command. The gods knew what they were doing, intertwining the fate of a dragon and a wolf. Ride this cock until you’re sick of it, it's completely yours. I will rip my heart out of my chest if you only asked me to. Please,” he was desperate. He wasn't sure if he wanted you to believe him only for sex or if there was something deeper in it. You bit your lip, wondering if you should make him suffer more, but decided against it. You sank down onto his cock, savoring the way in which it was stretching you out. A small gasp left Aemond's lips as your velvety walls surrounded his cock. You began to move slowly, letting yourself adjust to his size. Aemond forced himself to keep his eye open, watching how your body moved on top of him. He was never on the bottom, but it was fucking hot to see you like this.
“Such a charmer you are,” you began to bounce on his thick cock faster, driving both of you crazy. You tugged on his hair, relishing in the way his cock twitched every single time. His cock was filling you up perfectly, leaving no room for anything else.
“Ride that cock, you slut. You were jealous? Show me that it's yours,” he urged, grunting with every bounce of yours. He was already close, but he held himself back for now. Aemond didn't want to cum before you. With your other hand, you began to tease your clit. “Fuck, you’re clenching when you do that,” Aemond hissed, trying to hold back the lewd sounds from coming out of his mouth. But every time you pulled on his curly hair he would moan like a slut. The pleasure began to build in your stomach, so you increased the pace. You were sure you would break the bed that way, but you didn't care. All that mattered was that cock inside of you.
“I was jealous,” you admit, caring not if he was going to tease you about it later. Aemond is your husband and you will be damned before anyone else gets him. “But I found a perfect solution. What a better way of showing how good our marriage is than a babe? They all will know you fuck me… and the ladies will back off because you’re pain. My property, my prey, my lord husband. Mine,” you were feral, but it was all because of him. Aemond was driving you crazy this whole time. He smirked upon hearing your words.
“Well, get yourself pregnant, Zolki. A whole litter of pups,” he sucked on your breasts. You tilted your head back, moaning loudly as he sucked on it hungrily, marking all over your chest. Every once in a while you would pull on his hair, so he doesn't forget who's truly in control… but Aemond loved it. No one could touch his hair, no one but you. “Take my seed, all of it. Carry it in your womb proudly, like a trophy. Show them who is the wife of Aemond Targaryen,” he interrupted himself just to encourage you, groaning as your pussy clenched around his dick. Aemond moved a bit, beginning to thrust up into you from underneath. Your eyes rolled back as you rubbed circles against your clit.
“Please, cum in me. Cum in me, Aemond. Show me that you are mine and fill up my womb with your seed. Do it,” you begged-demanded, riding him, desperately chasing your orgasm. Aemond bit your nipple gently, thrusting up into you rough. You screamed as your walls tightened around him and you came undone, pulling his hair hard. Aemond filled you up to the brim with his nice potent warm seed. You laid your head against his chest, exhausted. You were satisfied, it was the best orgasm you have ever had… He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, not attempting to pull out of you. Aemond closed his eye, trying to catch up his breath. No one has made him feel like this before. He didn't care about pride, all he wished to do was pleasing you: as a sub or as a dom, it mattered not because no matter what he is your property.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 12 hours ago
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Death Wish 9
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Bucky Barnes
Part of the mob drabbles au
Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
Photo Inspo
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The doorbell buzzes. You loathe that noise. You stay as you are, unbothered by the visitor. You already hear Kitty asking Adrienne who it could be. 
You continue to shuffle through the contents of the cigar box. You’re neither surprised or disgusted by the love letters. You know your mother’s writing and you know it isn’t here. You always assumed your father was rotten to the core. No, you were certain of it. The proof only makes you feel worse for your mother. 
The door opens. There’s voices. Soft tones. Kitty’s, Adrienne’s and... his. 
Then, footfalls that ascend the stairs. Too heavy to be your sisters’. You close the box and toss it in the black bag. There is not box to keep. All your father’s stuff needs to go. You have no use for it. 
“You know I’m here,” Barnes says as he appears in the doorway. 
“I do,” you take the old baseball your father made you catch as a girl. He was always disappointed he never had a son. It makes you want to smile knowing he never got the thing he wanted the most. 
“You’ve had your time to mourn,” he says, and nothing else. His meaning is clear. 
You drop the ball and get off the floor. You cross to him with your head down. He’s stoic and still. You reach for his hand. That makes him flinch. As if he’s surprised. He lets you lift it and you kiss the ring on his pinky. 
You let him go and look him in the face, “he’s gone. It’s over. Let’s move on.” 
His brow arches and his eyes narrow. “You understand what happens now?” 
“You take care of my sisters. That’s all that matters to me.” 
“All about family,” he remarks. “Well, real family.” 
You’re silent. You don’t know what he wants you to say. Your heart is in your throat, can’t he see it beating there, choking you. 
“I showed you my loyalty. I did that and I will never tell a soul.” 
“Oh, I know, doll,” he smirks and shifts his weight. It’s your turn to wince as he brushes his knuckles along your cheek. “I don’t just want that loyalty for one night.” 
You blink and fight not to let your fear show. It’s all so uncertain yet deep down you know exactly what he means. It just seems all too much. 
“Sit down,” he drops his hand and turns. He shuts the door. 
You avoid your father’s bed and instead, sit at the vanity where your mother would perch and apply her night cream. He paces and puts his hands in his pockets. He exhales and measures the air. 
“It’s sorted. Everyone knows what happened. Vengeance is taken, the tables are balanced,” he says. “So we move forward. Your sisters are protected. They will have roofs over their head. You will too.” 
You stare at him, waiting for the other shoe. 
“Doll,” he tilts his head, “why are you looking at me like that?” 
“Just say it,” you sniff. 
“Say what?” 
“Tell me what it costs,” you sneer. 
He snickers, “that’s what I admire about you. You don’t beat around the bush. You come to my office, tell me to off daddy. You won’t even let me charm ya, dammit. You just wanna get down to business.” 
“Please,” you beg. “I... I can’t take any more.” 
His expression softens and he approaches you delicately, like an animal he doesn’t want to scare off, “we’re gonna have a big wedding, doll. You’re gonna wear the most expensive thing you can find, and we’re gonna drive off into the sunset together.” 
You gulp and search his face. It sounds ridiculous. You don’t know this man, he doesn’t know you. Yet, he’s the only man who knows what you did. Who know that you could do something like that. 
“Ah, come on, I’m a real man,” he unbuttons his jacket and reaches inside. “I’m more than words.” He takes out a hexagonal velvet box. “So, let me know if it fits.” 
You hesitate but accept the box. You open it with some effort, the hinges are tight. You snap the lid up and stare at the ring within. It has a large teardrop diamond at the center and four decent sized ovals to each side, with little round diamonds worked in between. The gold gleams with the elaborate style of the thick band. 
You slide it out and turn it in your fingers. It has to be worth more than all the stuff your daddy pawned off. More than even this house. You roll it over again and line up your finger with the band. You push into it and it fits snugly below your knuckle, covering half your finger. 
“Too big,” you say. 
“Loose?” He wonders as he leans a hand on the vanity table. 
“No, it’s... clunky,” you wiggle your hand. 
“Never thought I’d hear a woman complain a rock was too big,” he says. “Doll, I expect you to show off. You’re mine, I’m yours. That’s something to brag about.” 
“Flashy. Distracting,” you comment. 
“Any man stupid enough to try to steal that off ya, he won’t be thinking much longer,” he insists and grabs your hand. “Come here.” 
He tugs you until your standing. He admires the ring on your finger and his cheeks dimple as he grins. He puts your hand on his shoulder and wraps his other arm around you. Sweat beads across your scalp and down your back. He’s so close you can smell his mellow cologne. 
“Always good to have more to love, isn’t it?” his fingers curl into the cushion of your hip as he crushes you against him. He brings his palm up to cradle your face as his eyes drift down to your lips. He purrs and rocks you.  
You shudder as your breath catches in your chest. The idea never fully bloomed in your head. You never dared to imagine this. Yet here it and it’s more startling than anything you could ever fathom. 
He turns his hand to frame your chin and pulls you even closer. He leans in and presses his mouth to yours. His beard tickles you as his lips caress yours and his tongue pokes out coyly. You close your eyes as you open up to let him in. 
Your heart thrums behind your ears as you seal your deal with that kiss. You didn’t barter for your freedom, just another master. 
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