#I’m capable of throwing things out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yanderemommabean · 1 month ago

Text

Yandere Aliens x Reader

Content and Warnings: AFAB reader, multiple alien species, dubious consent/no consent, tentacles, some humiliation- 6k words. This was a commission, and I hope you enjoy as much as they did!

Meeting with new alien species was almost always a headache in your division. Earth was just stretching its legs into travel compared to how long these other beings have been around, and they always seemed to make that a point in any meeting you were forced to go to, and had to put up with their mocking and condescension.

Others point out that it's more like an affection, like one would have for a cute pet, but you shut them down and roll your eyes. They see humans as useless and fickle, there’s nothing more to it. And even if it were something like affection for a pet, how does that make it any better? Why would you want to be seen as weak as a furry friend?

Regardless, it’s your job to show that your species is more than capable of handling what they throw, and sometimes even spit, at you. Part of that job is showing up alone, digital clipboard in hand, and facing them head on with hopes you’ll gain more allies.

Today, a meeting is being held with new generals, new crusaders, and hopefully new partners to Earth's own space expedition force. It’s not that you have zero allies…It’s just, more than a handful would be preferred with some tensions rising.

As you walk into the giant room, you’re met with a handful of massive and tall creatures. Some with tentacles, some slimy, some beastly, and others…Just otherworldly in a sense that only H.P Lovecraft could really get behind. If you really want to give him any credit. According to the allies back home, they gave the man inspiration and he didn’t credit them at all.

There’s an odd aura in the room when you finally sit. It’s as if all of those predatory eyes were following your every breath as you waited to begin and state your case for allegiance. It’s as if you were some specimen to behold and admire rather than a serious being who needed to get proper allies and ties to your organization.

You make your way to begin speaking, but feel a chill go directly up your spine. While flickering through some of your digital paperwork, a rather invasive tentacle began to try and slither over your shoulder, and down your arm.

There’s an odd warmth to them, and dare you say they feel sentient. They’re purple and thick, coated in a sheen of what you can only call slime as they curl and tighten across your arm and try to get to the base of your wrist.

“I-I would uhm, appreciate it if you didn’t touch me” You manage to cough out, lifting the hefty weight of its slimy appendage off of our body while trying to remain composed. The muscled tendril seemed agitated as it was withdrawn back to its host, some low rumbling heard across the table as you cleared your throat. Whether or not it was a normal greeting didn’t matter, if you truly angered the species you can try to apologize later.

“Hello, and greetings. It’s my honor to address this council today for our plans to-” There’s those tentacles again. Two of them wriggling up your legs and weighing you down as you stumble over your words and ultimately fall, allowing the wretched things to crawl over more of you, while the being they belonged to seemed to purr and trill in triumph.

“No, Uhm, listen. We really can’t be this affectionate and touchy. I’m here on serious business to get you all to see why you should join earth's alliance. C-can one of you help? It’s becoming inappropriate…”

While you struggle, a deep voice chuckles from across the other end of the table, amused and entertained. “Draaknals. The species that can’t keep their parts to themselves. How cute that they’ve found a little toy they want to explore. I have to say, I’m feeling a tad jealous. Humans are such adorable creatures, I’ve always wanted to have one in my lap myself.”

You can’t even speak before you feel yourself being lifted up, anti-gravity dragging you towards the lap of the creature who was mocking how you were (more or less) being openly molested.

You’re met with the large lap of the elder alien, chuckling as its hands roam over your body and begin to rip at your suit, making your blood run cold and your face drain of color. The way they pluck at the fabric is all too playful for what you feel is trying to be done. Something like a present being unwrapped or like a pet being pestered.

“Ah. They’re softer than I had originally suspected. So warm and cute, so easy to hold and to carry around. The noises they make when they struggle are down right adorable.”

Adorable?! You’re a warrior from earth who went through hell for training! What the fuck do they mean adorable?!

Cold air rushes over your body as more and more of your clothes are torn, exposing your supple skin to the room as the remaining participants coo and chirp about. “I can see we agree. I wish to explore more of this being's body as well. Listen to how their heart picks up, how they suck in with cute little breaths. It’s addicting! We should see what other noises these creatures can make for us.”

The room hums with their noises of agreement, some chirping aloud and others gurgling their responses. As if this is what the meeting was truly about.

You’re quickly handed to the towering being next to you, whose hands are more than ready to start poking and prodding, cooing aloud about how soft your stomach is as they gently drag their nails over your skin, daring to cut it if they so wished.

They map over your body like you’re an artifact to be admired. Dipping into your hips, over your stomach, walking right up to your chest and just under your chin, tilting your head to get you to look up and meet their intimidating gaze.

You can’t even think let alone catch your breath as the room seems to spin, your head dizzy and panicked. How can you stop this? Get things back on track or at the very least escape? There’s no way you can fend for yourself in this! Giving in to some of their desires would be fine on its own, but the other species here are known for more brutal tactics, how can you possibly negotiate with that?!

You strangle out a gasp when you feel those wet tendrils back on you, gently flicking over your now hardened nipples. Wet and warm, they tease and rub over them sensually, curious and playful at the same time. The little flicks send soft shocks to your core, your toes tensing and your neck straining as you try to get them away from your face. You can’t stop the mewls and whimpers you make as the alien coos and clicks to its constituents, seemingly pleased with how easy it is to humiliate you.

“Xorvex…Do you feel that?” Another asks, tugging at the remaining patches of your suit with a grin. “I can sense how aroused this little human is. I’ve heard they can reach climax within minutes with just the right stimuli. Oh how envious that makes me. I wish my mates could orgasm with that much ease, over and over…It’s a delicacy.”

There’s a chill down your spine once again as you hear that. The creature's tooth filled grin only makes you want to hide and huddle away. Like a lamb cornered by starved and bored wolves. A sort of danger where you know it won't be over quickly, and that they’ll take their time despite your pleas for rest or freedom.

Maybe if you play along things won’t be so harsh? Perhaps you being this way can show them you mean no harm and they can join your forces? It’s asinine to think of in the moment but what else can you think to calm yourself? Panic would either entice them, make them pissed, or even bored. That or turn some on even more but if you’re already literally fucked, that’s not the worst outcome.

You yelp, undignified and pathetic. Your bare body now for the taking as they huddle around you and begin to indulge however they please. What feels like a wet tongue glides over your abdomen, coating your skin in saliva, over and over as you’re held in these creatures' massive hands. They mutter and murmur about how “delectable” and “tasty” you are, and you fear you might truly be eaten- only to have that fear dismissed.

For better or worse.

That wicked and slick muscle decides to curl against your thighs, the tip gently flicking over your mound as you stutter out gasps of shock and unexpected arousal. The appendage parts your lower lips eagerly, flicking and slurping as you can only writhe and feel your muscles tighten. Your thighs tense and shake, but are held open by the council member who admitted they adore when their mates can climax over and over. They exclaim joy and amusement with how easy they’re taking you apart, and you feel utter shame as you pitifully fail to fight.

“Right there…Yes. Good little human. I don’t understand why they try to make such adorable creatures like you fight in these wars. You’re clearly meant to just take our seed and be filled to the brim. Leaking as much as you are, I’m shocked you aren’t considered a case of neglect! Oh, but don’t you worry. We’re going to satiate every little devious human need you have.”

There’s a cold pinch, and your eyes shoot open, mouth agape. The tendril easily slides inside of you, pumping in and out with practised ease as the Draaknal from earlier chirps and growls in approval. You can’t even protest, the Xorvex and the Akaex having their mouths share yours, tongue stealing a taste with every breath you try to take in, making your core all the more molten as pleasure overtakes rationality.

The room is filled with wet sounds, all creatures invested in how to take you apart and make you their little plaything for as long as they deemed worthy. They coo in your ear about how unique you are, how they adore how you squirm and fight, and how good you look when being toyed with. Your thighs clench and tense as the tongue-like tendril continues to pump into you, like the alien in charge of it simply couldn’t get enough and wanted more, more, more.

One of the taller ones grunts and growls at the room, communicating something you couldn’t make out, only knowing that the tendril stopped and slipped out of you with a humiliating wet pop. They snarl back and forth to the two who first had you, before they sigh and back away, allowing you to be lifted upwards, placed on your back on the large pristine council table.

You feel the cool metal on your bare back, eyes darting all over the room as your brain tries to make sense of anything. You’re facing the chair of the council member who took you, and you start to think maybe you’ve been rescued-maybe they put a stop to this! But all that hope is brutally crushed as soon as the head member begins to speak again.

“Our friend here is right. We can indulge and get things done. A little sharing wouldn’t hurt. Just be sure to leave enough for the rest.”

There’s little you can do. Trying to fend for yourself will get you killed. Trying to escape is useless. They’re just taking what they want, as they want, all while in awe like you’re some sort of…Pet. Or perhaps more? There’s such an odd fascination, it’s hard to pinpoint how all of them truly feel. But regardless, it seems they’ve decided to make you their plaything.

There’s a warm mouth over your dripping mound, and once again you feel the white hot pleasure shoot up your spine as they let their long, thick tongue explore. Up and down, starved and greedy. Hands come to cup just under your ass to lift you up, shoulders on the table and legs falling backwards so the things tongue can truly get in as deep as possible.

You outright sob, hands trying to latch onto anything as the ecstasy burns and reaches its boiling point, wanting to rip away but at the same time, wanting to chase that high. There’s more growls, more chuffing and satisfied groaning, vibrating right into you and making your toes curl.

You can’t stop it. The blinding sensation racks through your core, and you find yourself making loud, stuttered gasps as you climax. Your mind is blank, everything white and blurry, breaths uneven as the council coo and purr about how good you look, and how interesting it is to see a human go through such bliss.

You don’t get much more time to think. You’re quickly passed onto the next alien, whose fingers are eager to explore, some in your mouth, others teasing your chest, and others curiously spreading you open as you’re sitting in their lap. “So pink…So soft. Just begging for us to taste. Maybe this is how they captivate a mate back home? So inviting!”

“Maybe they make it this way on purpose? To be bred until there’s sure to be offspring?” “No no, some humans mate to show love and romance only! I hear it's this soft and sweet to keep their mates addicted.” “I won’t believe it until the human is passed to me. Waiting turns to do research is less than favorable…But It’s such a rare opportunity, I can’t turn it down.”

It’s as if they don’t even care. Passive to your protests but adoring how they can make you squirm and writhe. Like they’re observing an endangered species and have to gather whatever intel they can.

Your pussy clenches down against the invading fingers, and you pathetically cry out. Your hips are grinding down on their own, wanting more yet also screaming from being so sensitive, handled like a doll. That shouldn’t make you all the more wet, it shouldn’t make you clamp down harder, but here you are. All parts horny and desperate and still somehow trying to fight it.

The long digits crook and curl, knowing exactly where to hit and how hard. You feel a yelp forced out of you, the pleasure way too intense too soon, but your body is acting on it’s own. Your eyes are rolling back, saliva is coating the digits in your mouth, and there’s fuck all you can do when you size up and feel yourself spraying all over the beings hand.

There’s amused purrs and trills, some even laughing in awe, like they watched a marvelous spectacle, and you’re then handed off again. Truly like a toy. Why does that turn you on? Why is any of this making you act like some desperate animal in heat?

You feel a sense of shame as you listen to the previous one lick its fingers, audibly groaning and sucking like it’s never eaten something so delicious.

There’s garbled noises and growls, something you wish you could decipher, but your gut tells you what you already know. This is far from over. Predators were surrounding a wounded lamb and ready to take whatever piece they could get their teeth on.

“Why are we focusing only on the earthlings' pleasure? Honestly I never understood your kind. Your species always gives and gives and wonders why it’s dwindling in population. The human here should serve us. Be useful.” The large, red, muscular creature grunts this towards the entire council, and is quick to snatch you away and bring you to the next seat. Its uniform is dazzled with badges of war, some honorable, others just decoration for how brutally they fought their enemies.

They’re an Undrut. Known for their brute strength, short fuse, and shoot first ask questions later attitude.

“Please-” You choke out, feeling their massive hand around your throat. “-Wait a moment! Just let me-NGH!” You hiss, eyes slamming shut as the Undrut hovers over you and begins to slip its larger, thicker fingers into you.

“So tiny and pathetic. Made to be protected, not to serve. You should be in a nest, letting someone stronger bring you food, bring you safety, bring you comfort. You’re much too squishy and feeble to be out here with us, the battlefield would only chew you up and devour you.”

There’s a wet “schluck” sound, and you’re terrified to look down and see the massive length pressing right against you.

“Easy, Agorox. Humans are fragile like you said. Being brutish will just kill this one.”

The being chuffs, rubbing its glistening head over your sore and gaping cunt, snarling out to the smug voice beside them. It seemed annoyed, but taking the council members' words into consideration. You shiver as the hand tightens around your throat, just barely, its fingers clenching here and there as Agorox rubs the head of his long, thick cock against your soaked folds.

Agorox hummed, bending closer to whisper in your ear as you felt more of his weight on you. “If you were on my planet, you’d be seen as the highest honor for a mate. We love to show off how well we provide.”

He pulls back with a chuckle. “Such a cute little species” He mused, the head beginning to push inside. Your tight rim can barely accommodate, stretching around his length as your voice goes tight, air feeling stuck in your chest as that monstrous length tries to fit inside of you.

The Undrut chuffs and snarls, but now in arousal, sliding his ribbed cock deeper and deeper inside of you as your walls pulse and throb, sucking him deeper. The size was enough to make anyone sore the next few days, but your body was acting as if you’d never felt this type of relief before. Every ridge pressed exactly where you needed, every inch stretched you just right. You felt like you were close to an actual heaven despite being locked in some sort of lewd, depraved hell.

“That’s it. Such a good, obedient human.”

You feel a wave of warmth wash over you at that. Something about the deep voice praising you made you want to melt into a puddle. A box to unpack for another day perhaps. You don’t really care for a psychoanalysis when an alien is eight inches deep and your mind is slowly breaking.

“Every inch. I know you can take it, earthling” Agorox hisses, pressing his hips flush to yours, watching in unbridled arousal. The bump that pokes from your abdomen has the alien on what you humans would call “cloud nine.”

The others watch in awe, watching as you take inch after inch like you’re made of elastic. Your body twitches and jolts with each deep thrust, slowly gaining momentum as you finally let yourself go. The pleasure from it all, knowing you couldn’t fight them off-What was the harm in giving them what they wanted?

“Nhh” Your throat felt tight as even more of that length speared you open. You couldn’t help but watch as well, nearly obsessively as it’s cock just disappeared inside of you. You push yourself downwards, wanting to rock against the creature and get truly bred, the noises you made being practically punched out of you.

Something primal was crawling out of the recess of your mind. You wanted this. Yo unwanted every thick, addicting inch, and every ounce of cum that this creature could provide. Part of your more sane mind had to assume it’s just something this species can cause with saliva or something. The other part doesn’t care and wants to be filled and to be climaxing right this second.

Agorox growled low in the back of his throat, impressed that you dared to be so bold. He doubles over you, thrusting inside with more and more abandon, watching as you arch off of the table and claw at anything for some sort of grounding or purchase.

“Amazing. Soft and brittle yet they can handle a warrior like me. Look at them. Taking me in over and over, waiting for my seed” he chuffs, grinning widely as he lets his massive hands come to hold your waist- so tiny in comparison that his fingers could touch.

The way he began to fully plow into you, you started to see tiny stars behind your eyes. You couldn’t even wrap your thighs around this creature's abdomen, as much as you wanted to, wishing to pull him deeper and hold him there so you could feel every bit of what he’s giving.

Maybe it’s how this creature mates, but something about the idea of him pulling out any time soon made you want to wail in distress. It made your stomach twist. You arch your hips to meet his aggressive downward thrusts, making you clench and throb all over again as he used to his liking.

Agorox grunted and chuffed as he fucked you, deep and fast. Over and over, hurried and greedy as he watched his cock disappear into you, bulging right in your stomach. “Take it. Be a good little human and take my seed. Every. Last. Drop. Waste any of it and you’ll see why my kind is feared.” There’s a deep, rumbling sound from deep in the red alien's chest, and soon you feel your core being filled with warm, slick gushes of cum. Viscous, deep into your cervix, coating you inside and even out as no earthly creature such as yourself could truly hold that much. You start to feel a bit bad for any other smaller creature that takes an Undruts fancy.

It’s so debauched and filthy, it sends you into shame while also tipping you over the edge, climaxing once again. Your core spasms, tensing and hot as your thighs lock, and your voice goes hoarse in a cry. Head lolling back as curses and pitiful whimpers echo against the walls. All for the amusement of the council. A spectacle of Earth.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Humans can only handle so much, you know this!” a member scolds, but it’s half hearted at best. There’s tendrils sliding against you again, and you’re placed back to the being who started all of this in the first place, and feel a sense of dread knowing what they wanted from you next.

But with how you’re clenching around nothing and covered in a dubious mess, can you really say you didn’t want to continue?

“My my, what a display. The little human was easier to break than I had hoped, but I’m by no means complaining. Do you think they break like this with their own mates? I read that some humans have to have this happen multiple times before reaching their preferred mind space.” “Once again, there’s fictional stories humans write for fun, and there’s facts. I know which ones you tend to pick up, Urlen.”

“Oh, pardon me for enjoying the finer things of human creation. I should be executed for such a crime.”

The two banter back and forth for a bit, all while the tendrils caress over your body, slithering and exploring, just much much more eager and bold. The heft they have is an odd comfort to you, like some macabre weighted blanket, and you have to wonder if they’re onto something about being in a subspace or even fully mind broken.

You’re hyper aware of everything that’s happening. Every touch and every caress has you jerking and feeling like you’ve been shocked. Yet you find yourself tilting your head back and allowing it all to happen, no longer caring how they treated you. If this is how they want to learn about the human race, who are you to stop such a pleasurable science? Not that they cared for it either way it seemed.

Damned aliens always take and take without question. You knew that coming in and just assumed they were pompous, but no. You couldn’t be more wrong. They were starved for knowledge and attained their info by any means- and it seems this group adored hands on.

The tentacles begin to slide across your lips, tickling your mouth open before taking full advantage. They didn’t taste awful either, and you find yourself becoming all the more relaxed as the tentacles fill you up from every hole, curling and pumping over and over as the alien host coos and purrs inside of your head.

“Such a pretty species. Such eagerness for pleasure. How you can handle this size…I’m amazed. Perhaps having you as mates would be wonderful for my more hungry brothers and sisters.” You wince, feeling the tendrils prodding deeper into your aching pussy. The burn is more pleasant than before, but you can’t help but feel they’re pushing you to your limit, as if truly trying to test how much you can bend before you break.

You gag and choke on the appendages forcing their way down your throat, but the way they go about it has you clenching and jerking, your core turning molten. It was perfectly lewd, your hands itching to reach down and play with your clit as they used you how they pleased. It was heady and hot. Everything is ten times more sensitive, every touch like an electric shock across your heated skin. Your tongue relaxes and allows the tentacles to use your mouth and throat, the weight somehow nice and easy to get lost with as you suckle and lick wherever you can.

“Yeeessss. That's it. What a beautiful way to fall apart. You humans are so interesting…denying yourselves this bliss with your odd religions and your strange customs. Wouldn’t you love to just be like this? I could arrange a perfect marriage for that if you’d like-” “Now's not the time. They’re here for our research, not your political moves.” The tendrils leave you as the creature goes back to hissing and snarling at Urlen, the head of the council, who was looking all parts of the cat who got the cream. An odd smugness surrounds his aura as he watches how you’re handled and devoured.

Like he’s the one who tossed the meat to the lions. The one who ran the circus.

“It’s such a shame that the meeting is drawing near an end. I was having so much fun, I wanted to take you apart even more. But that’s alright, dear human. I can indulge just a bit more before we have to be off.” You blearily look up to him, your legs not at all wanting to work as he stands over you and lifts you up with ease. Your skin buzzed with heat and electricity, everything so intense and making you lose your breath. Slick dribbled from you, cum coating your inner thighs as it drips, down to the floor, all the more reason for your cheeks to bloom in molten shame.

There’s another shiver, and you’re placed right on his lap, massive length now proudly standing and rubbing between your ass cheeks as Urlens hands massage the meat and flesh. Possessive and greedy, cupping and digging his larger fingers into the flesh like he was angered that he couldn’t do it before now. However, if he was angry, he covered it up with that superior-to-you tone.

“Goodness. If I hold you just like this, right against my cock, I can feel your heart rate. Beat after eager beat, waiting for me.” Urlen shows his teeth in a grin, rows upon rows of sharp teeth just waiting to sink into your flesh and claim you. Marr your skin for the very bragging rights that he got ahold of you.

Oh how utterly greedy that would make him. And at such an established event! But…Isn’t that all the more savory? Erotic? He can’t fully help himself. There’s just something about breaking you down like this that has his entire being elated and wanting more.

You wheeze, back bowing into a taut arch as the head of his thick, wet cock presses inside. Urlen’s deliberately going slow, inch by agonizing inch, making you savor the pleasure as you feel exactly how deep he’s reaching inside of you. You swear you can feel him right in your guts. Right against every overstimulated bundle of nerves. “Down here-” He purrs, and there’s another sweet gasp from your lips. “This feels good too, right? So swollen and stiff. Look at how you jolt and quiver…How many nerve endings are here? How many times can I play with this while you take me? Does it help reproduce? Or is it just for creatures like me to milk you of bliss until you hurt?”

Christ, do they ever shut up?! You can’t even think of a response, you're completely on auto pilot and chasing that high once again. You need him to keep going, to play with your clit while you ride on his massive cock, completely abandoning decorum. As if you had any to begin with when this all first started.

There’s only guttural grunts and moans after you whimper for him. Looking much too cute to just leave needy and desperate for release. Over and over, you feel your body pressing down to take his length as you claw into his dark blue skin.

You were chasing that high, uncaring for how you looked or how you sounded, Your hands traveled up and down your own body, relishing in the debauchery of it all, bouncing and feeling your chest, your stomach, pressing right on the bulging skin as you felt all shame finally leave. Urlen and the others are a mix of pleased, intrigued, and in awe. If they didn’t have any interest in humans before, they do now. Though, perhaps not for the reasons you were sent here for.

“Fuck! Ngh-Wait! “ You feel your voice rising in pitch, panicked as you’re shoved on your back, the cold table sending you into the opposite direction and nearly ruining your orgasm as Urlen stands over you, rutting into you slowly.

He wants you to feel it. Feel how deep he is, how he’s spearing you open. An odd primal urge overcomes him as he watches you take all of him with ease. Like you craved him just as badly.

“Can’t believe you can take away our composure like this. So soft, small, easy to use. You truly have no idea how good you look do you? How utterly insane your kind drives me. It’s pathetic you ruin me with such ease!” he bites out, angling his thrusts so he could watch himself plunge into your soaked and swollen pussy. The way you clamp down and suck him in, how warm and tight you are, it’s enough to make even his kind lose his mind. No wonder humans love this for a pastime, for a reason to lose themselves- This pleasure was addicting!

His species could feast for eons with this information.

You're a victim to a body quaking orgasm once again, sobs leaving your lips as breaths are punched out of you, pleasure so intense you’d think you were being punished by these creatures and not being experimented on.

Well, maybe it was that sincere in the beginning. Now you’re sure that veil has fallen. You may not know a lot of alien customs, but you know when feral arousal overtakes a group.

It’s like it’s never ending. Over and over his length plunges inside of you, causing you to squeal and shake, the pressure building inside like you’re about to burst. Eyes rolled in the back of your head, thighs aching in the most delicious way possible, white hot bliss making your brain turn to static as you truly let go, unable to care about whatever else could be happening.

There’s an audience of coos and praise as you feel yourself squirt, chest heaving in uneven breaths, your soul feeling as if it was pulled out of you and pulled through a wringer. You just came. Again. Not only that, but you squirted. Lewd, debauched, and all parts erotic.

You can’t feel an ounce of shame with this. What’s there to be ashamed about? They want to explore your body, let them. It’s much easier than trying to act as if this could ever go back to a place of decorum and sanctity. Let them play and feed.

And oh, do they. You’re filled to the brim by Urlen, somehow able to handle more copious amounts of his seed than you thought, the mess running out of you like a river when he pulls away and his cock stands proud. Your essence clearly drips off of him, giving it a sheen as it bobs and twitches, still eager to slam back inside you given the slightest sign that he could.

Everything turns to a blur after that. Handed to another member, tongues cleaning you out while they mutter this and that about your species, cooing about how cute you are, how delectable you are, how good you handle their sizes as you're forced into orgasm, after orgasm, after orgasm.

It’s like some Roman punishment. The hero now the victim as you’re enjoyed and devoured, losing yourself to these creatures like you pissed off Aphrodite (or dare you say you earned her favor? This isn’t exactly the worst way to go.)

You’re once again with the tentacles, sucking on whichever decide to take your mouth as another creature is slamming away, purring deeply as they take you. You don’t even care to know which species. It’s all the same. Pleasure, euphoria, mind numbing orgasms- Why would you care who’s giving it to you?

The tentacles leave your mouth, letting you take in much needed breaths as the final alien takes you for a ride. Deep, fast,and rabbit-like. Taking and taking, chasing their own pleasure as you sit in your own little mental bubble.

There’s a final thrust deep into your cunt. The alien pulls away and grins as its fingers go to spread you open, showing your clenching hole to the others, as if you truly couldn’t ever get enough. Their fingers tease your sore and red rimmed hole, chuckling when you jerk and whine from the touch, like a predator toying with its meal.

You’re given a moment to breathe after that. The demons in these other worldly creatures finally satiated it seemed. You’re face down on the large table, eyes bleary and skin covered in sweat, saliva, and a mix of all of their essence. Hair mussed, teeth marks lining your body, and every drop of energy gone.

How the hell did you survive?

“I’d say this meeting went well” Urlen muses, dragging his fingers down your spine in a similar way someone touches a marble statue. Mapping you out and wanting to admire you all the more. You wonder if it's a way to try to comfort you- Then again who are you kidding? They passed you around without preamble and gave you one of the hardest brain resets a human could ever experience. But still, it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility.

“All things considered, I say we join your earthling alliance. I can see a wonderful future with us as allies. If you give us this hospitality with every meeting, how could we ever in our right minds say no?” There’s a pitiful whimper as Urlen lifts you up, placing you on your ass as his fingertips tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “And, I’ll be more than happy to have you as my personal translator. My little ambassador…You can show me all of your customs and ways of pleasure. All for me to feast on.”

#yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #mommabean #yandere aliens #yandere exophilia #yandere noncon #yandere dub con #yandere smut #yandere lemons #reblog if you liked it so others can enjoy

1K notes · View notes

trivia-yandere · 3 months ago

Text

ending one to "beast of busan"

alternate ending one to "beast of busan"

warning: non-con/dub-con, yandere jungkook, dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm, obsessive behavior, doggystyle, cow-girl, impregnation kink, face-slapping, rough sex, stockholm syndrome,

word count: 6.153

valentine's day masterlist

“I wanted it to come naturally, Y/N. But if you won’t comply, I’ll just force the submission out of you.” Before you could blink, Jungkook is forcing you up onto your feet. He drags you inside the home and slams the door shut behind him. He pushes you away from him and you stumble. Quickly, you swirl around to face him.

“Pick your choice, Y/N. You’re either going to listen to me or not.”

You inhale deeply.

You’re unsure what has gotten through you. Maybe it’s because Jungkook, in a way, has been lenient with you. This was a man who’s killed far too many people to count, and yet he’s allowing you to defy him until you’ve given him the answer he wants. What he’s done to you is child’s play as you understood what he’s truly capable of.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.” you hiss low, voice fully of venom.

Jungkook tilts his head a bit, watching you.

“You’re going to have to kill me.”

“I would never.” Jungkook retorts with a scoff. “What’s gotten through to you? This self righteous act you’re portraying is cute.”

Jungkook begins to smirk as if you were a joke and it causes anger to seep through you. Without much thought, your sprint towards him once more. You attack him, punching and scratching at him like an animal. The flashes of how frightened you were of him while incarcerated go through you. The long nights of staying up because you knew people were watching you. The bloodied roses and disgusting letters all at the hands of him.

Jungkook doesn’t put up much of a fight, allowing you to attack him for nearly five minutes until he thinks you have enough. He wraps you in a tight embrace to stop your attacks. The nearest area is the living room and he throws your body right onto the loveseat. You squirm in his embrace but Jungkook doesn’t let up. “You’re so cute when you’re angry, baby.” he murmurs against the skin of your neck. “Your attacks don’t hurt me.”

Jungkook presses himself against you. “If anything, it excites me.” he murmurs right in your ear, assuring that he shows you just how excited he was. His bulge sits right on your clit, twitching with excitement. “You want to make things harder then so be it. I’m a patient man.”

Jungkook’s hips buckle once more, rubbing against your clit. His groan is low and daunting. His tongue pokes up to slowly lick onto your neck possessively, continuing to rock his hips.

“I’ll have to make you submit to me, baby. It wouldn’t be hard, you know?” Jungkook says, arms loosening so his hands can slide down the sides of your body. “You already want me to fuck you into submission. It’s that stubborn pride of yours that is fighting me.”

Jungkook pushes himself away from you so that he could easily tug off his pants - the plaid pajama shorts he often wears to bed.

Your eyes were widening at his actions. You want to scream and fight, but it’s as though all the adrenaline left your body completely. You could only lay there as Jungkook undresses himself, greedy hands then placing themselves back onto your body.

“That look in your eyes…”

Jungkook grumbles something inaudible under his breath, but your eyes have a hard time looking away from him. Mainly, what was between his legs.

“…it’s so devilious, my love. It’s one of the main reasons why you caught my attention.”

Jungkook comes back down, his lips peppering such soft and sweet kisses onto your face. Kisses that should be foreign to a man such as him, but they aren’t. His right hand engulfs your breast with such greed.

“Nothing scared you. Not your peers dropping like flies." Jungkook chuckles darkly as he speaks of the dead reporters and journalists he’s murdered.

Jungkook’s teeth sink into the nape of your neck and you let out a yelp when it begins to sting. You squirm beneath the man but that does nothing for him. He proceeds to press his now bare cock - hard and begging for any attention you’re willing to give it - against your clit. The pre-cum already oozes out and now meets your own arousal.

“I like when you fight me, Y/N.” Jungkook’s tongue licks over the bite mark on your neck, possessive behavior for a deranged man such as him. “You’re such a strong-willed woman and that’s what I love about you.”

You cannot suppress the moan that comes from your lips that you immediately regret. Your body was going to cloud your mind like before, and this time Jungkook wasn’t going to let you go. His cock rubs between your wet fold tenderly and the both of you shudder.

“Are you going to continue to fight me?”

Your eyelids flutter a bit. You couldn’t want to look at Jungkook. You would be fair and not lie to yourself. He was handsome and it made everything harder than it needed to be. Why couldn’t he be a normal person? It would’ve been easier to open your legs with no remorse if he wasn’t who he was.

“You’re thinking too hard into it again, baby.” Jungkook quips with another thrust of his hips.

Jungkook’s lips find yours in a second. He doesn’t intend to hold back his hunger for you any longer. He would’ve been more lenient if you hadn’t tried to run away - and fight him, but he loved the fight in you that he doesn’t mind.

Jungkook's eager hands find their way from your breast towards your ass. He squeezes it tenderly in the palms of his hands, groaning against your moving lips. He holds you in place so his hips could jut against you, your juices coating his cock entirely that he couldn’t wait to have you.

“Jungkook,”

Jungkook’s teeth grazes your bottom lip before he hums a response. Your chest presses against his and your hands are on his shoulders.

“Life would be easier for you if you’d just submit.”

The kisses began once more, soft little pecks onto your chin and jaw. They’re so sickly sweet that for a moment, your mind forgets just who the man doing such a thing is. It’s though you and he were a loving couple who had an amazing start - how wrong it was.

“I can tell you what you might be afraid of.” Jungkook murmurs. Your pussy is sopping wet and at this moment, he never wants to be away from you. Your skin still smells of the lotion you coat yourself in after your nightly showers and it’s intoxicating. “You might be afraid that you’ll like the way I fuck you.”

Jungkook’s hand squeezes your ass and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from letting out a whine. Without even realizing it, your hands grip his shoulders and wrinkle his shirt. It’s what causes Jungkook to chuckle because he was right, even if you didn’t want to see it for yourself.

“But it’ll be alright, baby. Don’t you want to feel good, again?” Jungkook loves the way your ass feels in the palms of his hands and it nearly hurts him to let it go. But he only moves away so he could remove his shirt and he tosses it aside.

Your swallow, your throat dry. You’ve only ever seen Jungkook shirtless for a short period of time and it was always from the back. You’d always avert your eyes before you’d ever had the chance to look any further.

Now, however, there wasn’t averting your eyes. Jungkook was right in front of you, equally as bare as you are. It’s now that you allow your eyes to roam his body. His naked chest first, where you note there’s a few scars along his right collarbone. It’s far too late to turn back once your mind registers your hand had lifted to his chest and you traced the scar on his collarbone.

Jungkook’s eyes connect with yours for a second before you turn them away, a shy look drawing onto your face. You then turn the same eyes to his sleeve of tattoos. This is your first time actually seeing it in its entirety. It adds to the man that is Jeon Jungkook - the Beast of Busan.

“You can touch me.” Jungkook murmurs, amusement in his voice. Your fingers lingered on his collarbone and even he could sense that you were curious.

You do, against your brain's best judgment, touch Jungkook. Both hands this time, first touching along his chest. Next, you go to his arms. The muscles flex a bit, half on instinct upon being touched and because Jungkook wants to impress you further.

The more your hands roam onto Jungkook’s body, the more your mind screams at you to stop. This was an attempt to distract you. These same biceps you’re marveling belong to the man who’s murdered without a second thought.

You inhale through your lips and exhale through your nose. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders, hands having roamed upwards. You glance back to those dark eyes just as he comes closer to you, both hands on either side of your head.

“I hate you.” you speak softly, the words coming out a mere whimper. From his shoulders, you glide your hands up to his neck and entangle your fingers through his hair.

Jungkook snickers and licks his lips. You touching him feels good - amazing, even. It’s something he’s longed for since he saw you for the first time on the news and now he has it, along with your undivided attention.

“I know, baby.” Jungkook responds before capturing your lips in a heated kiss. This time, it’s one you return with the same amount of passion.

Jolts of electricity flow through you rapidly, your legs tightening around Jungkook’s waist just as his arms wrap around you. His hips rut against you repeatedly, shaft sliding between your folds with such intensity that you gasp. His tongue digs into your mouth and dances along with yours, fighting for dominance that you were positive Jungkook was going to win.

Regret was going to seep through you when your lustful high was done and you’re sure you’d want nothing more than to roll over and die. As of right now, there was no denying that you wanted Jungkook as much as he wanted you. At least your body did. The sane part of your mind was slowly slipping away into oblivion with each passing second of you being with him.

“I hate you so fucking much.” you groan when Jungkook lifts his lips from you for a breather.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook grunts. “I love you.”

“N-No you don’t.” you say, even if the words do cause your heart to jolt a bit faster in your chest. “You’re an obsessed piece of shit.”

Jungkook finds your words amusing, mainly because they were true. He was obsessed with you, his barely sane mind not truly understanding why. What he did know was that you captivated his thoughts on a daily basis; over and over and over again.

“I am obsessed with you, baby. Is it that obvious?” Jungkook couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He needed to be inside of you. Without lifting himself away from your warm embrace, he dips his right hand down between the two of you so he can grasp his hardened cock and center it at your entrance. “Every fiber of my being is obsessed with you. I’ve killed for you.”

Jungkook begins to enter you as he speaks and you gasp. Your right hand grips the back of his hair as he enters you ever so slowly until his cock is fully inside of you.

“Fuck,” Jungkook’s voice sounds animalistic as he begins to thrust inside of you. His right hand holds onto your outer thigh, his forehead pressed against yours. “fuck you’re so perfect, baby. I don’t deserve you.”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his way with words. His hips begin to snap in you at an alarming pace, skin slapping echoing across the walls of the home. Your pussy grips around his cock so heavenly that he doesn’t want to ever stop or be without you entirely.

“Shut up.” you moan, un-gripping his hair so your hand can roam his chest. Was Jungkook always this…ripped? Maybe his time incarcerated he only gained more - which wasn’t fair. It added to the attraction and you hated him (and yourself) for it.

“No. I don’t deserve you but I’m a selfish man.” Jungkook enjoys the way your hand roams his chest. Your palm is soft and if he could brand it right onto his chest, he would. “And I won’t allow anyone else to have you.”

Red flag, but you’re far too fucked out to truly care right now. Especially not when Jungkook pushes himself back and forces your legs apart so he can get deeper access inside of you. His hand lays right underneath your knees, pressing them up to your shoulders, rutting his hips so his cock presses against your sweet spot.

“So beautiful, baby.” Jungkook grunts, blown out eyes watching the way your breast bounces as he fucks you, shirt is scrunched up against your chin. “I’ll kill anyone for you.”

You clench around Jungkook because of those words, such disgustingly heinous confession that for some reason causes you to grow even wetter. You’d always thought you’d want a partner that would kill for you - except, not in the literal sense.

Jungkook meant it entirely too literal.

“You’re not a good person, Kook.”

The nickname was new, far too personal. Intimate. You don’t catch it but Jungkook did. He groans, pounding in you at a faster pace. “I never said I was, my love. You can hate me all you want but this pussy loves me.”

Jungkook removes himself from you so he doesn’t cum. Not yet, he thinks. He forces you up from the couch so he can turn you around and shove you right back onto it. He enters you once more, your ass arching perfectly for him.

The new position was damning and you find yourself squealing. The floorboards creaks with each rut of Jungkook’s hips. His hands squeeze around your waist to keep you right in place for him.

Your ass is amazing from this view and Jungkook’s throat releases inhuman noises. There’s a milky ring around his cock that he witnesses in between thrusts. Your pussy is so tight and wet that there isn’t any possible way he couldn’t stop just fuck you this once.

“You hurt me when you said those things about me in that interview.”

Your hands dig into the fabric of the couch. It felt as if Jungkook’s cock was in your stomach, drilling you so deep and deliciously.

“After all I’ve done for you, I wouldn’t stay in prison if you would’ve just come back to me.”

A hand wraps around your neck and yanks you back. Your back slams against Jungkook’s chest, and even then does Jungkook not halt his abusive thrusts. Your smaller hand places itself on top of Jungkook’s on your neck.

“I ruined my reputation with my story about you.” you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, releasing a few struggles curse words at how good Jungkook was at fucking you. It’s insane to think that all your mind can muster up is wanting to continue with this - to have him fuck you in any positon he wanted as long as he continued with that pace. “People called me…such awful names.”

“I’ll kill them.” Jungkook grumbles, squeezing your neck a bit. “Just tell me.”

Shit.

Your thighs widen a bit and your head turns so you're coming face to face with Jungkook. He’s surprised that you initiated this kiss this time, but he doesn’t dwell on it. Any moment he has to kiss you, he will.

“You’re such an asshole.” you hiss against his lips, pecking it once more. “You don’t…fuck,”

You’re unsure where the adrenaline or the power comes from. You push Jungkook away from you and turn to face him. He’s a bit stunned at your sudden actions, but when you push him towards the couch and sit right on top of him, he doesn’t complain.

“You-”

You enter Jungkook’s cock right in you with one movement, a hand on his shoulders. You let out a soft huff, head pulled back.

“-oh fuck.” Jungkook hisses as your hips buckle, rising and falling on his cock. “You’re so-”

Jungkook’s words are cut short when your hand collides with his cheek. It stings, but fuck did it feel good. Your hips continue to buckle, eyes looking into his own.

Licking his lips, Jungkook begins to thrust upwards to meet you halfway. “You can hit me again.” he says, the sting in his cheek feeling amazing because it came from you. “I know you hate me, baby. You hate how good my cock feels in you.”

You slap Jungkook again, his cheek glowing red, but he only keeps on.

“You hate me but love my cock. You’re dripping all over me, baby.”

Jungkook says whatever to get a rise out of you, enjoying the way your hands feel against him - no matter how hard you hit him. Maybe it was what you needed, to feel in control of a situation for once.

“You’d look beautiful pregnant.”

The words itself stops you mid-slap. It’s an observation Jungkook says randomly, eyes slit. Once more, he’s gained control in this situation, fully taking over the thrusts.

“Fuck you.” you hiss, slapping your hand against the man's cheek once more. This time you keep it there, bouncing on Jungkook's cock as if your life depended on it. You hated the way your body reacts to his words - and Jungkook can tell.

“You hate me but deep down, you’d like that.” Jungkook laughs. “You’d like to be full of my cum, right? Big and swollen,” Jungkook groans and damn was his mind imagining it right now. You round with his child - something that was a part of you that he would cherish until the day he died. “carrying my baby. Fuck, baby, you’d be so beautiful.”

Your mind is screaming at you, more red-flags blaring right in front of your eyes, but your body is ignoring it because Jeon Jungkook was not just a good fucker, but he was a damn good talker, as well. You milk his cock perfectly, clenching at the thought of him breeding you right here.

“Your breasts will be full, too. You’d be perfect.”

Jungkook’s thrusts were sloppy. Just the thought of witnessing you round with his child, something so pure that an impure person like him could create, drives him crazy. He wasn’t going to last long and by the looks of it, neither were you.

“K-Kook,” you huff out.

“Yes, baby?” Jungkook leans forward to press wet, open mouth kisses against your chest. “Fuck, cum all over my cock, baby. It’s okay to let go.”

And you do, cumming all over his cock just as Jungkook told you to. Your body trembles, goosebumps littering your skin. Your eyes flutter a bit as Jungkook continues to fuck into you until he’s cumming. Milky substances coat your walls deeply, Jungkook not wanting a single drop of his seed out of you.

You fall against Jungkook’s chest, exhaustion flowing through you. You know soon the regret would come and so would the self-hatred. As of right now, all you wanted to do was sleep.

Jungkook places a hand onto the low of your back. He inhales your scent, satisfaction brewing throughout him. He gently begins to tap his fingers as his lips press against your forehead.

This was just the beginning, Jungkook thinks. The beginning to an eventual end that meant that you’d always have a piece of him. Even if he wasn’t around.

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N.”

You’re unsure how long you’ve looked at yourself in the mirror for, your eyes barely recognizing the woman staring back at you. It takes you a few moments to blink and regain the moisture back into your eyes.

You don’t have to turn your head to look at the man who’s speaking to you. You can see Jimin through his reflection in the mirror. He’s looking right at you, attempting to mask the obvious tint of concern in his eyes.

“I had blood thrown in my face, Jimin.” you murmur, the corner of your lips turning up a bit, but you’re the least bit amused. You sniffle a bit, glancing away from him as your mind replays the moment.

You suppose you couldn’t blame the public's reaction to you suddenly emerging from the scene. You were missing for months and suddenly you return - this time with child.

Your return caused a frenzy. Media outlets were going crazy trying to get your story. You were blasted all over newspapers. There were podcasts made about you, some you chose to not listen to as the conspiracy theories were heinous; but the truth was stranger than fiction.

“Just this once. Then,” you turn to face Jimin this time. He’s leaning against the door frame with crossed arms. “I’ll be out of the public eye.”

Jungkook being incarcerated once more meant that the fear he caused when he escaped slowly subsided, but that didn’t mean the side-eyes you received aren't noticeable. Hours of police interrogation on your “truth�� and Jungkook being arrested and now in maximum security, it’s like now you’re left completely alone. You had Jimin, yes, but even Jimin has a look in his eyes that you know has a deeper meaning to it. Even if he’d never tell you.

Now, your hand places itself on your stomach. You were weeks from giving birth - a home birth was what you decided. You didn’t desire going to the hospital and being seen more than you had to be. Even now as you sit with stage lights shining in your face and cameras from different angles there’s nerves flowing through you.

“Y/N, welcome back.”

The interviewer smiles at you. A fake-lipped smile that appears more so like a grimace as eyes rake over your appearance.

“It was almost a year ago when you sat in that very seat, right?” the interviewer asks and slowly you nod. You recalled how cocky you were to speak about Jungkook. How you called him a monster. It wasn’t a lie by any means, but you don’t have the same confidence you once had. “And now you’re back and with child.”

“I am.” you murmur meekly.

“How about we start from the beginning?” the interviewer asks.

The beginning.

A whirl of emotion goes through you, as do countless memories of your time with Jungkook. The first one that hits you was the first time you’ve slept with him and how intoxicated with lust you felt. The regret that came over you was depressive afterwards, holding more hatred for yourself than you had for him.

You didn’t know when your feelings for the man began to slowly shift and right before your eyes, the murderer that Jungkook was appears to be nothing but a blur. You found yourself wanting to be held by him at night as you two slept. When he cooked, you would join him and the entire act felt domestic. Like two couples living together.

The Beast of Busan had changed right before your eyes and he became just Jungkook. The same Jungkook with the amazing singing voice. The man who would bring you into his arms and swing you around in random moments just because. The man who was also an amazing artist and had drawn dozens of pieces for you - sometimes you’d join in, but your art was never as good as his.

You found your heart beating rapidly around Jungkook and not because you were frightened by him. No. Your beating heart was something else entirely. It felt like a school girl's crush and at first, you hated yourself for feeling this way towards the horrible human being that he was. It was as if your sanity was slowly subsiding and admiration grew through you.

Sex with Jungkook became as normal as breathing. There wasn’t a moment where you and he weren’t entangled together - even if it wasn’t entirely sexual. But when it was, it was powerful. Passionate.

The way Jungkook would hold you close against him so lovingly while he fucked you disrespectfully. You can still feel the way his wet lips would glide across your naked skin greedily, licking and biting with such possession. You were his, he told you, no one else's. His to love and fuck on at any given moment - and you allowed it.

“That must’ve been terrible.” the interviewer speaks.

You weren’t here to tell the truth, however.

The truth would paint you as the horrible person most people saw you as.

This was Jungkook’s idea, after all.

“It was.” you nod your head in agreement. “When I…managed to run away,” you begin, turning your eyes to scan the sea of cameras in front of you. Your stomach churns and you truly wished you looked convincing. “all I thought about was saving me and myself…from him.”

“You did amazing.” Jimin says, placing a hand onto your shoulder as you enter the dressing room.

You close your eyes again, inhaling deeply. Everytime you did, you saw Jungkook. The way he looked drenched in blood right before he pointed a knife at you and told you to run. To run as fast as you could and to not look back at him.

If it was a part of Jungkook’s plan all along, you’re unsure. What you did know was the surface level of it all. You and Jungkook had been found, a mistake by his hands. He wasn’t supposed to use the fireplace and draw attention, but he had. No one had lived in this home for years as it was considered a vacation home and that drew attention from the neighbors - if you could call people living miles away that.

You recall the way the door was kicked in and guns were pointed right at you as you sat right by the fireplace. Much of it was a blur as your eyes were blinded with tears, but what you did understand was that Jungkook had two options. He and you could continue to hide out, either in the same home or somewhere else. Or, you could return to your life.

“Run, Y/N.” Jungkook had hissed, removing the knife from the last officer's neck and he pointed it straight at you. “Run as fast as you can. Don’t look back.”

“W-What?” you had asked, the tears fresh on your cheeks. The metallic smell was going to make you vomit. “What about you-”

“It’s over.” Jungkook drops the knife. His feet caused the floorboards to creak as he made it over to you. The anger he felt when he heard you cry out and to come out from the kitchen to witness you on your knees and in distress had caused him to snap. Not to mention the guns pointed right at you. “You…are in no position to be out here. Not like this.” Not while pregnant, he wanted to say.

You did what Jungkook told you to. You memorized the story he told you to tell to the public - the one that would demonize him and humanize you. It wasn’t entirely a lie; but you were supposed to leave out the part in which you willingly desired to stay with Jungkook. Your sane half told you that it was manipulation; stockholm syndrome.

“Did I?” your question causes Jimin to tilt his head. “I…people are-”

“People are going to talk regardless, Y/N.” Jimin interrupts. “That’s what I’m here for. Leave the rest to me.”

Jimin had become a true friend over time that you were grateful that he remained by your side - even when you ultimately confessed to everything. You confided in Jimin the absolute truth of it all - you being held hostage, you slowly seeing Jungkook as more than a murderer to…more personal matters that led you to being pregnant.

“Jimin,” you swallow. You were a highly emotional person and half of it could be blamed on the hormones. “thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Y/N.” Jimin chuckles, but he squeezes your shoulder before dropping his hand. “You and I are friends, right? I’ll always be here for you and…well he or she.”

The gender of your child you wanted to be a surprise. Jimin supported your decision and assisted you by building furniture for the nursery in your new home. Your old one was considered a crime scene at one point. Besides, you wanted to start fresh.

Your new home is secluded, surrounded by trees that brought you a sense of familiar comfort.

“Have you…spoken to him?”

Jimin never says Jungkook’s name but you always understood when he was being spoken about.

Slowly, you nod your head.

“That’s good.” Jimin murmurs. “I’ll take you home.”

“She’s…so beautiful.” Jungkook murmurs, the chains on his wrist clash against the metal table he sits at as he grips the picture in his hand. “So tiny.”

Maximum security was much more gruesome than what he had prior, but he wouldn’t complain. He still managed to get visitors from time to time - even if it meant his arms and ankles being chained as if he was going to escape.

“She looks a lot like you.” Jimin snorts, leaning back into the cold metal chair with crossed legs. “She does that nose scrunch you used to do as a kid.”

Jungkook raises his brows, a genuine smile on his lips.

Jimin and Jungkook went back all the way to childhood. Jungkook was the younger one of the two, but for what he didn’t make in age, he brought in mischief.

“I wish I could hold her.” Jungkook murmurs, doe-like eyes staring longingly at the picture of his newborn daughter. “And Y/N.”

Jimin turns his eyes away to look around the small room. There’s guards outside the door, but he doesn’t notice any cameras inside - isn’t this supposed to be maximum security?

“Why didn’t you go further?” Jimin questions, returning his eyes back to Jungkook. “You were only supposed to be there for a month or two. Then work your way out of the country.”

Jimin watches as Jungkook drops the picture onto the table. He brings his eyes up to his friend - more like a brother - and he shrugs.

“That’s it?” Jimin snorts. “A shrug? You told me you had a plan.”

“And I did.” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “I just…” he exhales with a shake of his head. “Y/N…I didn’t…how long was I supposed to keep running, hyung?”

Hyung was new, Jimin thinks, and by hearing the word with the sound of vulnerability, Jimin backs down. He was upset to learn that Jungkook had not gone through with the plan and for the life of him he couldn’t understand why.

Now, however, by being with you he understands a bit. Jungkook’s obsession towards you was unhealthy from the start. It began with him raging on and on about you - how you were only a bitch in front of the camera who wouldn’t challenge the Beast of Busan if he was right in front of you.

That quickly turned to infatuation when Jungkook learned you weren’t going to be scared easily. It was tiresome having to be the middleman and be friends with the both of you. He felt like a mailman delivering letters and flowers but it all led up to the very moment in which Jungkook got his hands on you. Of course, he could’ve done it a more safer way - pushing you into a coffee table wasn’t ideal, but it worked.

“You love her.” Jimin states with a roll of his eyes. “And…she…well you broke you.” Jimin quips. “Whatever you did in the cabin, Kook, made her feel like you and only you could make her feel that way again.”

Jungkook blinks. His legs spread a bit - not too much as his chains wouldn’t allow him too much comfortability. His own mind wanders to his time with you and how a warm feeling spreads throughout him. Even now, he can recall the scent of your skin after a fresh shower and the warmth of your skin besides him at night.

“I do love her.” Jungkook mumbles meekly, His leg begins to tap against the tiled floor. “That’s why I couldn’t keep her living her life running away because of me. It sounded amazing in the beginning but…”

Jungkook shows little remorse in being who he is. He was an asshole. He was a murderer. But, he loved you - call him obsessed or not. There was little sanity in him but the tiny bit he held told him that it wouldn’t be fair to keep someone as lively as you trapped forever. He couldn’t be the man he thought you needed him to be. Witnessing you on your knees with guns pointed at you caused him to snap. You were in said position because of him - you were looked at like scum because of him.

“...I don’t want my sins to be hers.” Jungkook continues before he has a chance to get deeper into his thoughts. “I hadn't thought about murder until I saw those guns pointed at her. I thought maybe…with Y/N and the baby that I was better. But,” Jungkook's eyes glanced down at the picture once more at the tiny, sleeping baby. “I snapped. What if they would’ve killed her?”

“Maturity is a different look.” Jimin states, his sassiness masking the loving tint in his eyes for his younger friend.

“As much as I wanted Y/N and our baby by my side, I couldn’t risk putting her through that again.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I told her to go and lie. To lead the police right to me so I can be arrested again.”

“That was better than your freedom?”

Jungkook glances at Jimin.

“If it meant that Y/N wouldn’t be blamed for my actions then yes.” Jungkook nods his head, his words truthful. “Take care of them.”

Jimin snickers. “You don’t have to ask.” he says. He loves Y/N and the baby - his god child. There’s so much of Jungkook to the small being that it’s shocking already. “I’ve taken care of all of you this long, haven’t I?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but the grin forming on his lips is evident.

“The beast has gone soft.” Jimin jokes. “To think this is the same man who forced me to assist in murder.”

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “I’m a family man now.” he states. “Thank you.”

Jimin waves Jungkook off. “How far you’ve fallen, Kook. You’re not even scary anymore.”

“Fuck off.” Jungkook chuckles.

The metal chair screeches against the ground as Jimin stands. He nods his head towards Jungkook. “I can’t stay long,” he says.

“I understand.” Jungkook gathers the photo of his daughter, his heart swelling. “Don’t forget about the flowers for Y/N.” he says.

Jimin rolls his eyes. Of course he was back on mailman duty. But, at least this time you’ll be accepting to the gifts.

It takes five minutes for the guards to escort Jimin out and for another one to come in and grab Jungkook. The hallway is bright as he is led down it towards his cell - all the way at the end of the maximum security unit. He wouldn’t complain. It was quiet and peaceful and he even had a small window to look out of that overlooked a lake.

The guard puts the code to his cell and the door opens slowly.

“Jeon.” the guard says from behind him as he uncuffs him. “There’s something for you underneath your pillow. Make sure it remains there at all times.” he murmurs before pushing Jungkook into the cell and pressing the button to close the door.

Jungkook hums to himself, his footsteps slow as he makes his way to his cot. Slowly, he lifts the pillow and his lips twitch upwards.

Underneath his pillow is a small, flip-phone. Outdated, but amazing on battery. Jungkook grasps it and flips it open, going to the call log to find two numbers, one he recognizes as Jimin’s and an unknown one.

Jungkook presses the unknown one and places the phone onto his ear. It rings, and with anticipation he finds himself breathing harder.

“Hello?” your voice rings from the other end of the phone and immediately, Jungkook lets out a short gruff.

“Y/N, baby.” Jungkook murmurs, clenching the flip phone in his hands. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

alternate ending (2) | valentines day masterlist

#trivia-yandere #bts smut #jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #bangtanwritershq #jungkook smut #bangtanwriters net #btswriterscollective #bangtan smut #btswritersclub #beast of busan #explicit-tae #trivia yandere valentine's day masterlist #bts serial killer #jungkook yandere #bts yandere #jungkook x you

815 notes · View notes

manikas-whims · 6 months ago

Text

Love and Deepspace men when the two of you get 0% score on an online compatibility test

ZAYNE

❄️ Doesn’t take it seriously at all. Exaggeratedly raises eyebrows. “You don't actually believe in such nonsense, do you?”

❄️ You do know these are just silly tests made to lure couples and you wouldn't have cared but 0% is too much! And his lack of reaction annoys you. “You should be a little disappointed! Maybe you don't love me as much as you claim! Hmph!” 😤

❄️ Seeing you childishly fold your arms and puff out your cheeks, makes him smile. He pats your head and lowers his head to your face’s level so you're unable to avoid his gaze.

❄️ “Then..let me make it up by doing things that will raise our score.” He suggests. “How about a date? Or a kiss? Or..” His hand slips down your head, fingers leaving a cold trail along your cheek and neck, and come to rest upon your collarbone.

❄️ Your lips part at the gesture. And he tugs at the neckline of your shirt, his voice an octave lower. “Or we can do something more stimulating for a higher score..”

❄️ The compatibility test is long forgotten after that as you get busy with “more stimulating” things.

XAVIER

⭐ Takes it way too seriously. Narrows his brows, practically glares at the test score on your phone’s screen, and pouts. “It shouldn't be that low.”

⭐ You're the one trying to remind him it's just a silly poll on the internet and that it doesn't define the relationship you two share or diminish the love you have for each other. But he just won't be swayed so easily. He’ll try to shoulder all the blame upon himself for that 0% score. “Don’t worry. I’m not blaming you. Maybe it's me.”

⭐ “No way!” You try to be playful about it to cheer him up. “Maybe it's my fault!”

⭐ He’ll give a firm shake of his head to deny your claim. “You give me everything I could ask for and more. It’s definitely because of me.”

⭐ Over the days he becomes more and more loving, looking out for you during missions more than necessary, initiating skinship and romantic gestures whenever he can. So you grab his arm and draw him closer. “If you wanna improve that score so badly, then..” You lick your lips and lower your lashes.

⭐ He immediately gets the hint, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink at the suggestion, and he smiles as he lets his hand run along your thighs. “I can do that.”

RAFAYEL

🌊 He says he doesn't give a fuck but he's watching the results from the corner of his eyes. And he's NOT PLEASED about that 0% score.

🌊 He's gonna be petty about it and blame you for it. And of course, even though you know it’s just an online score, the minute he blames you, you lash back at him. And now you two are just bickering.

🌊 “You go out on missions and don't even text any updates! Leave me worried and distracted for hours! Do you even know how much that affects the creativity of an artist!?” He accuses.

“If you actually loved me, you'd know I'm capable enough to handle myself!” You fire back.

“Oh I'm sorry for giving a damn!” He dramatically throws his hands in the air.

You roll your eyes. “Now don't apologise for caring!”

“Well then stop making me worry!” He whines in exasperation.

🌊 The long argument ends with the two of you puffing your cheeks at each other, only to end up laughing and making up. You two realise how childish you were being over a silly online compatibility test of all.

🌊 He takes hold of your palm and places a kiss on it's back. “Let’s fix that score with dinner at your favourite place. And, ” He winks mischievously and adds, “..breakfast in my bed.”

SYLUS

🐦‍⬛ He knows all these compatibility tests are a scam. But whenever he sees you being excited about something, he indulges. And indulge he will. By taking it a lil seriously.

🐦‍⬛ Will lower his head to peek at your smartphone’s screen and frown at that 0%.

🐦‍⬛ “Well this isn't a surprise.” He states calmly with a shrug. “Thanks to your job, you don't stop by the N109 Zone as often as you used to, kitten. And my schedule keeps me far too occupied for anything else.”

🐦‍⬛ He tucks a hand under his chin and looks thoughtfully. “How about I take my bike and you request your boss for a leave? Then we can head out for a week-long vacation to wherever you want.” He lowers his head then, lips moving along your ear. “And do whatever you want.”

🐦‍⬛ You smack his chest lightly in hopes of hiding your blush at his dirty implications. “You have it all planned out, huh?”

🐦‍⬛ “Only when it comes to you, sweetie.”

i just realized i have so many of these reaction headcanons in my drafts so i’m trying to clean up..gonna try to post more of these again..need to get my head back into writing 🤞

» MASTERLIST «

1K notes · View notes

lisired · 4 months ago

Text

love jones

pairing: photographer!haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, strangers to lovers, hollywood!au, photographer!haechan, model!reader, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wr- [gets hit by a car])

summary: After breaking off your engagement to your fiance, you move to Los Angeles to pursue a modeling career. There in the fairytale land where stars go to shine you meet Haechan, an aspiring photographer with a penchant for mischief and flirtation.

word count: 12.4k (/25.5k)

a/n: inspired by love jones; the song by leon thomas featuring ty dolla $ign and the movie by theodore witcher. this is a repost of an old fic that i will be publishing in 2 installments; it is also the prequel to supermodel, which you do not have to read. installment two will be linked here when posted. as always, feedback is appreciated!

The air was different in California.

“The land of make-believe,” you sighed, holding the cold metal bar in your hands. This was your new home. Sine die.

Better than New York City, you muttered crankily to yourself. Everything there reminded you of him. Every street, every scent. You would rather not think of the asshole that cheated on you with another woman while you gave him everything. California, on the other hand, was a brand new slate. Free of assholes that showed other girls their penises while being months away from vowing forever to you. You had let out a massive sigh of relief when your doctor confirmed that you didn’t have any infections.

Still, you fondled the engagement band on your finger.

“I know you’re not out here thinking about he who shall not be named,” Chaewon chided in disapproval, hands on her hips.

You turned around. You hadn’t heard the door open. When she came beside you, you turned around again, facing the busy street just below of you.

“No. I’m not thinking about him,” you lied through your teeth. “I’m just brooding.”

“Same damn thing.”

You rolled your eyes.

Chaewon back-hugged you and wrapped her arms around your waist snugly, making you giggle. “I forbid you from thinking about that asshole any longer. The whole point of you coming here was to forget about him.”

“And the new opportunities,” you added.

“Exactly. He was holding you back. He wanted to be the man and bring home the bacon, and couldn’t stand the thought of you being a successful independent woman perfectly capable of taking care of her damn self,” Chaewon said without taking a single breath.

You mulled it over. That was a little too true. Your ex-boyfriend always talked about having kids and taking care of you and them, but you hated to think that your independence might’ve driven him away. “But you don’t just forget about the life and broken promises of the future you made,” you whispered sadly.

Chaewon let out a little sigh. She was sad for you. Her heart, too.

Then, she backed off and said, “You know what? We’re going to the club.”

You gawked and did a one-eighty. Full speed. “What?”

“You heard me. And put that ring up, girl. You’re not gonna get any dick if a man sees that on your finger. I don’t know why you haven’t given it back to him yet. Better yet, you should throw it off a mountain. We have plenty.”

“Oh, please,” you replied boredly. “I know these Los Angeles boys don’t give a damn. They would fuck the hole between the ring if their dicks were small enough.”

“Oh, don’t bring your Manhattan bullshit over here. The boys I know have decorum,” Chaewon replied matter-of-factly.

“I’m sure,” you deadpanned.

Chaewon cocked her head at you and planted her hands on her hips. “When you’re done being a drama queen, you need to go change into something risquÃ©. I’ll be back in an hour to pick you up.”

“Yes, Mother,” you said coolly, in spite of not being even the least bit inclined to bump and grind at a club tonight.

“I’m serious. If that ring’s not off your finger by the time I get back, I’m kicking some ass.” Then, she went back inside. You shook your head. Los Angeles, you thought. What am I going to do with you?

The club was packed with people, which was to be expected given that it was a Friday night. You paid them no attention, sticking close to Chaewon like a toddler kept close to their mother’s bosom.

“And I told her, ‘but that doesn’t make any sense. Gladys Presley popped Elvis Presley out of her coochie eighty-six years ago. There’s no way you could be his mother.’”

The group laughed at Jeno.

Jaemin hurled back a shot of vodka and added, “Gladys Presley didn’t look happy in a single picture I’ve seen of her.”

“Shit. If my son was Elvis Presley, I wouldn’t exactly be exhilarated either,” Ryujin quipped.

Mark covered her mouth. “Lower your voice. You cannot say that too loud out here.”

Ryujin shoved him off. “Get your hands off me, freak,” she hissed, narrowing her eyes at him.

The group laughed again. Except for Mark.

And Haechan.

Winter casted a glance at Haechan. “What’s up with the sun man?”

Jaemin, who was to the left of Haechan, nudged him and asked, “What’s wrong, my man?”

Haechan didn’t even blink. He was too busy staring past the tables. Something had evidently caught his eye.

Jeno followed his gaze and snickered. He spotted you, sitting at the bar with Chaewon. “I know what’s got my boy’s attention.”

Everyone glanced where Jeno was looking. There you were, obliviously laughing and chattering with your best friend. You were wearing a flimsy black dress now in lieu of the dolphin shorts you’d worn while moving the last of your stuff inside your new condo.

“Damn, she’s bad,” Jaemin murmured under his breath.

Winter angrily hit him.

Jaemin immediately stammered, “I mean, you’re badder. She’s nothing compared to you. I’m just saying she’s a little cute. For someone like Haechan, maybe.”

The table erupted in laughter.

“Mm-hm,” Winter hummed doubtfully, crossing her arms.

“Come on, baby. You know I’ve only got eyes for you,” Jaemin said, giving Winter a smooch to the cheek. “Billions of girls in the world and I still choose you. You’re the only one I want.”

Mark deadpanned, “He’s so smooth.”

“He must get it from you,” Ryujin shot, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Mark shot her a glare.

Jeno draped an arm around Haechan’s shoulder. “Come on, man. You just gonna sit and stare at her or what? You gotta make a move.”

Ryujin quipped, “And what do you know about making moves?”

“August twelfth, two years ago.”

Ryujin narrowed her eyes at him. “Only losers who get little play remember the exact date they fucked somebody.”

“Well, that says a lot more about you than it does about me, doesn’t it? I could have been talking about anything,” Jeno quipped, smirking.

The boys, especially Mark, laughed. Winter fought a chuckle in female solidarity.

“I pieced it together,” Ryujin mumbled.

“It’s okay to admit you’re a little lonely, Ryujin. I mean, after Sunwoo fled to Chicago, I can only imagine it’s been a long minute since you’ve gotten any attention downstairs,” Mark crooned like potent venom.

There were a couple of ‘ooh’s from the boys.

“You guys are annoying,” Haechan finally said after having not spoken for the past few minutes. Which was unusual for someone like him. “I’m going to go get her number. Watch this.”

The table whooped and hollered, cheering him on. Meanwhile, he approached you stealthily, popping a stick of gum.

Haechan sat at the available seat to your left (because Chaewon was to your right) and greeted, “Hello, ladies.”

Chaewon took one glance at the handsome stranger to your left and had raging heart eyes. You, on the other hand, were wishing you would have ignored her and brought your ring to deter any unwanted visitors. The one thing he was good for, you grumbled to yourself. But if you were being honest with yourself, the stranger was pretty cute. Pretty brown eyes, like your ex-fiancÃ©. Smooth skin. And he had the cutest, most kissable lips. If you hadn’t already written him off as bad news, you would have let yourself be interested.

“Hi, handsome,” Chaewon flirted, giggling like an idiot. You stiffened. You knew your way around men, but you weren’t in the mood.

Haechan smiled, but he was all eyes for you. Ironically, you were wishing he would disappear. He asked, “Can I have your name?”

“You haven’t done anything to deserve it,” you replied with complete disinterest.

“Hard to get. I fuck with it,” Haechan noted. “What do you want me to do?”

You pretended to be in thought. “You can start by removing yourself from my vicinity. Please and thank you.”

Chaewon winced and told him your name.

“Chae,” you groaned.

Haechan repeated after her. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

“Oh, could you be any more original?” you deadpanned. “By the way, I’m engaged.”

Haechan laughed. “You are definitely not engaged. I know that and I know nothing about you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “And how would you know that?”

“Because engaged people have engaged people vibes. You have painfully strong ‘I hate anything that has to do with love and romance’ vibes,” Haechan answered slickly, then leaned close to sing for only your ears, “And I don’t see an engagement ring on your finger.”

Chaewon was having a laugh at your expense. Meanwhile, this stranger pulled back and smirked at you, reading your thoughts. You wanted to be mad that he was right, but you kind of liked his voice in your ear.

“She’s single,” Chaewon added, as if it were necessary. “Maybe not ready to mingle though.”

You were fighting the most irritated groan at this point.

Haechan raised his hands and backed off, taking the mean scowl on your face as a firm ‘no’ and the rejection coolly. “That’s cool. Look, I’ll leave you ladies alone. Have a good night.”

“You, too,” Chaewon said, waving him goodbye as he stepped off the barstool.

When he was finally gone, you let out a breath of relief.

Chaewon gave you a look. “He’s so into you. I’m not even mad. You fumbled so bad. He’s fine as hell.”

“You’re forgetting that I didn’t ask to be dragged to this club in the first place. I don’t want to get dicked down by some dude whose name I don’t even know,” you grumbled, finishing what was left in your cup.

“I’m sure he would have given it to you if you asked,” she replied teasingly.

You rolled your eyes. “He can keep it to himself. I don’t want to fuck and forget.”

“Ugh, lame,” Chaewon groaned. “Fuck and forget is every young model’s motto.”

“Well, not mine,” you huffed, vexed. With a smidge of attitude.

Chaewon noticed your tone and frowned. “Okay, timeout. Babe, listen. I’m not trying to pressure you into doing anything you don’t wanna do. If you don’t wanna fuck around then don’t. I was just suggesting it might be nice to get to know somebody else. See where it goes.”

“I know,” you sighed, squeezing her hand. “Tonight’s just not a good night.”

Chaewon bobbed her head. “I understand. Take your time. You’ll know when you’re ready.”

You gave her a weak smile.

Meanwhile, Haechan was doing something adjacent to the walk of shame as he approached his clique’s table, empty-handed.

Jeno immediately taunted, “What a snag, man.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jeno,” Haechan hissed, throwing Jeno his middle finger.

Mark gave Haechan a compassionate look. “You get an ‘E’ for effort, dude.”

“L for loss,” Jeno murmured under his breath none too quietly.

“She looked like she wanted to kill you with her bare hands,” Jaemin retorted, holding Winter’s hand under the table.

Winter snickered. “And how would you know what that looks like?”

“Because I see Ryujin look at Mark like that everyday,” Jaemin quipped, earning a couple laughs around the table.

“Whatever,” Haechan said, feigning nonchalance. “You win some, you lose some.”

Jaemin braced his hand on Haechan’s shoulder. “This is just the trials and tribulations, buddy. You’ll get her next time.”

Haechan downed a shot of liquor. “We’ll see.”

When Tuesday morning arrived, you were up bright and early. You slipped on a minimalist outfit and got a taxi to the record store.

Ryujin was working the cash register when you walked inside. You didn’t recognize her, but she recognized you, smirking in amusement. “Good morning. Can I help you with anything?”

“Yeah, I’m looking for a Michael Jackson vinyl,” you replied, holding your purse.

“Vinyls are back that way,” Ryujin said, pointing her finger. “Good luck. He still sells fast.”

You thanked her and headed straight for the back shelves. Your record collection was a vinyl away from being finished after a number of years spent putting it together and you were desperately on the hunt for the finishing piece. Not a second later, Haechan meandered inside clad in denim jeans and black leather. He looked like nothing short of any parent’s worst nightmare.

Ryujin beckoned him over and whispered, “Aren’t you the king of good timing? Your girl’s in the back.”

Haechan furrowed his brows. “Myâ€¦” Then, he faced the back of the store and saw you carefully sifting through records, trying your absolute hardest to find the one you were looking for. From the looks of it, however, your efforts were in vain.

Haechan glanced back at Ryujin in shock. “Shit. Should I shoot my shot?”

“I mean, the last time you shot your shot, you missed,” Ryujin replied, propping her pretty face up on the counter. “Like Michael Jordan against the Toronto Raptors in 2002 missed.”

“And he still won. So, watch it,” Haechan shot back.

Ryujin rolled her eyes. “Whatever. But don’t make me get the buff Johnny guy from next door to escort you out of the building. The cute one that’s pretty tall.”

“Everyone knows who Johnny is, Ryu,” Haechan muttered, making his way towards you. Again.

You didn’t even give Haechan the chance to speak when you noticed him. Your face scrunched up and you droned, “You again.”

Haechan lifted his hands. “You know, most people usually greet others with a ‘hey’ or a ‘good morning.’”

“Not in New York City.”

Haechan gave you a curious stare. “You’re from New York City?”

You grimaced. You didn’t mean to let that slip. “I’ve already said too much.”

“You’ve said just enough, girl,” Haechan replied with a smirk. “Whatchu looking for?”

“A Michael Jackson Thriller vinyl. It’s for my record collection,” you answered absentmindedly, ransacking the shelves for the record to no avail. Which was irritating. It’s like his most popular album, you grumbled to yourself.

That certainly got Haechan’s attention. “Oh,” he said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I have a signed Thriller vinyl at my crib.”

You scoffed. “Please. As if.”

“I’m deadass,” Haechan insisted, but the untamed twinkle in his eyes made him hard to believe.

“Right,” you droned. “And I’m guessing this is the part where you invite me back to your crib and try to persuade me to hook up with you.”

“Hey, I’m not that type of guy. Scout’s honor,” Haechan said, though sensing your raging skepticism, he called out, “Look. Hey, Ryu! Don’t I have a signed Michael Jackson vinyl?”

“It’s like you won’t let us forget,” Ryujin shouted back, annoyed. Then, she leaned over the counter, noticing the reluctance all over your face. “Yeah, he’s got one. It’s legit. I’d tell you if this punk was bullshitting.”

For whatever reason, Ryujin’s words of confirmation finally pushed you to believe him. You badgered, “How in the hell did you get your hands on a signed Michael Jackson vinyl? He couldn’t have given it to you. You were how old when he died?”

“Legends never die, baby,” was Haechan’s witty reply.

You almost rolled your eyes, but settled for stubbornly folding your arms instead. “Okay. What do I have to do for it?”

“Go out on a date with me.”

That didn’t surprise you at all. Haechan had been trying to ask you out from the get-go. He was nothing if not persistent as ever. “A date,” you repeated with a smidge of boredom.

Haechan bobbed his head. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be a date-date. My friends and I are having this get-together tomorrow night. You should come. Ryujin has been bitching about how there’s an uneven boy-to-girl ratio.”

You arched a brow. “And you want me to even things out?”

“Well, with you we’d have four boys to three girls, but if you find me worthwhile you can start bringing your friend and then we’ll be as even as a figure eight.”

You mulled it over. One date wouldn’t be so bad, you contemplated. It wasn’t as if you would be alone with this boy. There would be five other people in the room with you. Not to mention Haechan truly didn’t seem that bad. And if you were being honest, under better circumstances, you probably would’ve already taken him to bed.

Besides, after spending most of your dating life with a cheating bastard, you definitely deserved to move on. Something fresh. If you decided that you didn’t like Haechan after this date, you could cut him off. Matter of fact, you could cut him off afterwards whether you liked him or not. Anything for the vinyl.

Haechan watched your lip tuck out in thought and thought it was the cutest thing ever. He could tell you were really mulling it over. The gears in your brain were spinning quicker than ever before.

“Fine,” you finally said after a while. “I’ll go on a date with you.”

In his head, Haechan was doing a very, very strange victory dance. But instead, he played it cool, and said, “Sweet.”

“Cool.”

Haechan pointed to the vinyls behind him with his thumb. “Can I play you something?”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

Haechan did a smooth one-eighty and grabbed a Michael Jackson Bad vinyl before popping it into the record player beside you. You watched him skillfully set the needle, as if he had done it a thousand times before. A song you knew very well started to play.

“I just can’t stop loving you,” you exhaled, noting the song name. You knew every word.

Haechan nodded and smiled at you. Then, he stretched out his hand. “May I have a dance?”

You giggled and took his hand in yours, putting your other behind his shoulder as he wrapped his around your waist. You wanted to be mad that you liked how his hands felt on your body. Ironically, you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt the touch of a man.

In little to no time, you were slow dancing in the back of a record store with a stranger. A very handsome stranger at that. You locked eyes and it was enough to make you hold your breath.

Neither of you took your eyes off of each other afterwards. You were just swaying to the rhythm, breathing in the sweet, titillating scent of him. Sharing the warmth of your bodies as they touched.

It was almost romantic. Then, a thought struck you. “I never got your name.”

“My friends call me Haechan,” he replied, flashing a smile. “But you can call me ‘baby.’”

“Haechan,” you said, tasting his name on your tongue. And ignoring his attempts at flirting.

Haechan’s face faltered for half a second, but he was quick to recover. “Because I like the way it rolls off your tongue, I’ll let it slide.”

You snickered.

That sound was music to his ears. “So,” Haechan started. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at seven. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” you chirped. “I’ll give you my number.”

“I hope you like motorcycles,” Haechan replied with a chuckle.

“You drive a motorcycle?”

Haechan pointed to the entrance with his shoulder. “Parked right outside. She’s my baby.”

You stared over his shoulder and right through the glass window, spotting his motorcycle parked directly out front. It was a sleek, black motorbike that coupled perfectly with his mischievous attire.

Oh, boy.

For an entire hour, you carefully planned your date night outfit with Chaewon (who after loudly celebrating your secured date agreed to assist with the wardrobe assembling prep) over FaceTime.

Not that it was a fancy date. Which was exactly why you were conflicted. You wanted to dress to impress, but you also didn’t want to seem like a try-hard. Like hell you were trying to impress Haechan, but you knew men like him perceived the slightest things as sexual advances.

You went for jeans and a crop top with a cute puffer jacket in the end, and called it a night. Just in case it got chilly, which was unpredictable in bitter Los Angeles evenings. Over the night and throughout your day, you caught yourself thinking about the handsome stranger that liked motorcycles.

The slow dancing in the record store. The eye contact. The warmth of his body beside yours and his perfect scent throttling you. And you found yourself smiling. When Chaewon asked you how the dance was after you confided in her about the little event at the back of the record store, you’d replied, “It was magical.”

You were standing on the fence. Haechan was cute and could be an excellent distraction from your mess of a love life. But you weren’t exactly ready to risk getting your heart broken again.

So, you decided you wouldn’t be getting your heart involved. Haechan was harmless fun.

But you were still counting down the hours until he arrived at your front door.

Haechan arrived punctually at your front door with two minutes left to spare. You grabbed your phone off the charger and dropped it in your purse before racing to open the front door. “Hi,” you said.

Haechan waved. “‘Sup, baby.”

“You’re on time,” you commented, maybe slightly surprised.

Haechan chuckled at that. Seemingly not offended. “Yeah, I am.” He cocked his head. “Should I have stood you up?”

A part of you somewhat expected him to and you would be lying if you said it hadn’t. Sue you for being cynical. After all, your last relationship had taught you to be a little more careful with your heart. Deciding you wouldn’t be answering that question, you gave him a quick scan and concluded that you liked what you saw. “You clean up nice.”

“Is that your way of saying I’m handsome?”

“It means you dress up well. Take the compliment before I retract it,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“You already said it. No take-backs,” Haechan teased, grinning all smug-like. “You look pretty. But you’re always gorgeous.”

His flirting was going to be the death of you. “You’ve seen me three times and not once without makeup.”

“Take the compliment before I retract it,” Haechan mocked, giving an impersonation of however your voice sounded in his head.

You gawked. “I do not sound like that!”

Haechan snickered and grabbed your hand, shutting the door behind you with his other. “Listen, baby,” he started. “While I would love to get on your nerves, we’re going to be late.”

Realizing he was right, you dropped it. For now. “Okay,” you sighed. “Well, let’s go.”

Haechan led you outside to where his motorcycle was parked, making small talk with you along the way to fill the silence in the air. You didn’t talk about anything special - most of it turned into him being endearingly aggravating - but you noted that you liked his voice.

When you got there, Haechan passed you a pretty pink helmet and told you, “I bought this for you. I hope you like pink. You gave me a pink girl vibe.”

“Because you’re just so good at knowing what vibes I give off,” you deadpanned, realizing this was the second time he had told you what vibes you gave him. And had been correct.

Haechan didn't do shit but smirk. “Well?”

You sighed. “I love pink,” you admitted, attempting to put it on.

Your confession made him grin even broader, but instead of teasing you, Haechan opted to help you put the helmet on correctly. “You a virgin?”

The use of that word made you shudder a little bit in surprise, but you quickly realized what he meant.

Your faltering didn’t go unnoticed by Haechan, no matter how brief. “I meant a motorcycle virgin,” he added.

“I know,” you replied, chuckling. “And yup. Nobody has ever taken me for a spin on a daredevil before.”

“I’m glad to have taken your motorcycle virginity,” replied Haechan, stepping back after clasping your helmet. “Ready, babe?”

Your voice wavered, “Sort of.”

Haechan mounted his bike and gestured for you to mimic him. When you were straddling the seat, he gently steered your hands around his waist. “Don’t be scared. You’ll be fine as long as you hold onto me really, really tight.”

You narrowed your eyes. “And you liking me touching you has nothing to do with it?”

“Those are the pros.”

“And what else are the pros?”

“On a motorcycle, we get to dodge all the traffic,” Haechan replied with a grin, securing his own helmet. “Now, like I said, hold on tight.”

You did as told, tightly clasping your arms around his waist and holding on for dear life when you felt the motorcycle jerk alive underneath your shared weight.

And it was exhilarating, flying past the city lights at the speed of light itself and watching splashes of color bleed into each other. You could feel the wind on your face and whip through your hair. You found yourself laughing as Haechan quite literally took you on the ride of your life.

He weaved in and out of lanes adroitly, avoiding stationary cars with a technique only years of training could upskill. Which was reassuring. You weren’t sitting on the back of the bike of a total amateur.

Hearing your noises of excitement made Haechan crack a broad smile. She likes it, he thought smugly. It was a step up from the night he met you and he would gladly take any tiny accomplishment. He couldn’t wait to see the look on the boys faces when he popped up with you in tow. No one believed him when he said he’d scored a date with you.

Well, of course Ryujin did, because she saw the whole thing go down. But she wouldn’t support him nor deny that he had snagged you. So it would be a huge surprise.

With some minutes of driving out of the way, you and Haechan finally dismounted his bike, arriving just shy of Jaemin’s house. You both caught your breath for a second, leaving your helmets behind. When you knocked on the door, a man you obviously had never seen before answered, a cup in hand. He saw you and his features instantly twisted with surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath.

“I told you so,” were the first words to leave Haechan’s mouth.

Jeno stepped aside, making room for you. And ignoring his friend. “Come on in, beautiful. The party’s just getting started.”

You weren’t wooed by the pet name, which made Haechan snicker as he walked inside the party, arm locked with yours.

The look of surprise on everyone’s faces did not go unnoticed by you and you quickly turned to Haechan, asking, “Did you not tell your friends I was coming?”

“Oh, he wouldn’t shut up about it. We just didn’t believe him,” Jaemin answered for your date, shock promptly fading into amusement. He held out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Jaemin. The host of this shitshow.”

You kindly shook hands with him and told him your name. “Nice to meet you.”

Haechan took over from there and pointed to his friends in the order that they appeared on the couch as he introduced, “Winter, Ryujin, Mark. And I guess the fuckward that opened the door for you is Jeno.”

Jeno lifted his middle finger. “Oh, fuck you, Haechan.”

“Love you too, man,” Haechan replied smugly, ushering you to the couch.

In little to no time, you were socializing with Haechan’s clique as if you’d been good friends for ages. None of them made you feel like an imposter, which you appreciated. Jaemin and his girlfriend Winter, who was sitting squarely on his lap, encouraged you to get comfortable. You felt right at home, laughing at their shenanigans. Many of which were Haechan’s, who was quite the shit-stirrer and troublemaker. You weren’t at all surprised. He screamed chaos.

His friends had a noteworthy amount of individuality and magnetism too. Jeno was everything you thought Haechan would be, but hilarious. Maybe even charming depending on who you asked. He liked taking turns hurling insults with Haechan. They were like brothers.

Jaemin and Winter were absolutely smitten with each other and were insufferable when apart, but grossly cute together. She was glued to his lap most of the time, but added a unique sense of humor to the conversation in between kisses.

Ryujin and Mark were mortal enemies and couldn’t go a half second without bickering and endless banter, but they were a killer Spades duo and gave you and Haechan a run for your money. Their similarities to an old married couple were reminiscent of your grandparents and you made a mental note to check on your grandmother later.

“Talking to yourself is not weird,” Mark whined some hours later.

Ryujin shot, “Maybe on whatever planet you come from.”

The pack (and you admittedly) let out a laugh at poor Mark’s expense.

Jaemin set down his drink and took a hit from the joint you had all started to pass around not too long ago. Everybody was at least a little buzzed by now except for Haechan, which surprised you. You didn’t expect him to be responsible. “Okay, okay. Chill. Every man deserves to give himself a good pep talk in the mirror.”

“Okay, so are we talking pep talks or having full-blown conversations with yourself?” asked Jeno.

Winter turned to Jaemin and asked, “You give yourself pep talks?”

Jaemin bobbed his head. “Sometimes,” he said. “Like when I asked you out. I gave myself a long speech of encouragement.”

Ryujin furrowed her brows. “Didn’t she say ‘no’ the first time you asked her out?”

Everybody laughed.

Haechan turned to you and explained, “Jaemin asked Winter out in our freshman year of college in the courtyard. He pulled out all the stops - flowers, chocolates, the whole nine. She rejected him and the whole campus talked about it for weeks.”

“I thought he was so weird!” Winter exclaimed.

“She thought Jaemin was weird. Jaemin talked to himself. I’m connecting the dots,” quipped Ryujin, passing the joint.

Mark hissed, “You didn’t connect shit.”

“I’m connecting them.”

Jeno pointed to you with his drink. “What about you? Do you talk to yourself?”

“Sometimes,” you admitted.

Mark leapt up and exclaimed, “Yes!”

“But only when I’m self-deprecating.”

“Oh,” Mark replied darkly. Ryujin had to tug him back down.

Haechan grabbed your hand and said sweetly, “Never talk to yourself.”

You rolled your eyes. He was such a flirt. Maybe you were starting to like it.

Some more colorful banter later, Haechan decided to connect his phone to Jaemin’s bluetooth speaker and everybody got up to bust a move to his wonderful music selection. He volunteered his hand and you took it gladly, in a world of your own as you each danced.

Haechan quickly became talented at making you laugh. He shimmied his hips in a very, very unattractive way and you almost snorted. “You know,” Haechan started a couple minutes later, your bodies much closer. “I can’t shake the feeling that you’re really familiar. Like I’ve seen you before.”

You shrugged. “Maybe. I do modeling.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hm,” you hummed. Your faces were dangerously close. One wrong move and your lips would be touching. “Mainly in New York, but I’ve decided to come here for a fresh start.”

Surprise was Haechan’s initial reaction, but he quickly responded, “That checks out. You are breathtaking, after all.”

You groaned. “It’s like you have some compulsion to flirt with me.”

“I do,” Haechan replied with a grin. “I’ll keel over and die if I don’t flirt with you.”

That checks out, you were tempted to mock, but instead you mimicked monotonously, “Must flirt. Will self-destruct if I don’t flirt.”

Haechan laughed loudly and you smiled at the sound of him. As the night carried on, you were finding less and less to dislike about him. He also only got even handsomer at this range. You could see every little detail on his pretty boy face.

Needless to say, Haechan was also hyper aware of the lack of distance between your faces and bodies. His eyes kept flitting to your plump lips and all he could think about was how kissable they were. “I think it’s really interesting that you’re a model,” he began.

You casted him a glance. “Why?”

“Because I’m a photographer.”

“Really?” you asked, somewhat shocked.

Haechan bobbed his head. “Mm-hm. My whole life kinda. It’s my passion.”

“Interesting,” you replied, though it wasn’t a lie. You were thinking over his admission. He was splurging your assumptions of him, dime by fucking dime. Haechan screamed spoiled rich kid at first glance and you’d doubted that he even had a job.

“Tell me something else about you,” Haechan said, locking eyes with you and doing his best to keep them there. You tested the limits of his self-control and he didn’t know whether he liked it or not.

“Like what?”

Haechan shrugged. “Anything.”

You thought long and hard about it. His weighty stare didn’t help in the slightest. After a minute you confessed, “I like cheesy movies.”

His eyes flickered with surprise. “Seriously?”

You smiled coyly and replied, “Yes. It’s a character flaw, I know.”

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head. “The model with an attitude that collects vinyls as a hobby likes cheesy movies. You amaze me, you know.”

You gasped. “I do not have an attitude!”

“You have lots of attitude, baby. Snark for days. And I love every minute of it,” flirted Haechan for the umpteenth time this night alone.

You were tempted to roll your eyes, but you kept them on his face, realizing again how good-looking he was. His lips were calling your name and you wondered if they were as soft as they looked. “Relax,” you said, feeling your hold on the reins slacken. You didn’t like it not one bit. “I’m only going out with you because I want that Michael vinyl.”

Haechan seemingly didn’t take offense to that and replied, “I know, but I thought that maybe if we went out on a date you would realize there’s actually a lot to like about me.”

You had already reached that conclusion on your own, feeling yourself become attracted to Haechan the longer you spent time with him, but your heart had intricate security and you were in no way inclined to let your guard down.

“Like what?”

Haechan didn’t waste a second on hesitation. “We have similar music tastes. We both like cheesy movies. I’m a photographer. You’re a model. I mean, come on. We go together like pancakes and syrup, baby.”

Him likening you both to pancakes and syrup made you snort. “Is that the best analogy you could come up with?” you asked.

“Cut me some slack,” Haechan groaned. “The last time I ate was ten this morning. I’m starving.”

You laughed.

He squeezed your hand affectionately and said, “Speaking of which, there’s a diner down the block that serves really good pancakes. I can vouch. Wanna go grab some?”

You pretended to mull it over and eventually replied, “I would like that.”

Haechan sported a victorious grin before disclosing to his clique that the two of you would be seeing yourselves out. Ryujin bid you goodnight and Winter pouted, asking when she would see you again. You and your date barely managed to escape the party, slipping outside into the cold after a solid five minutes.

The sky looked a little darker now, the city a little brighter. Time really did fly by when you were having fun. Among other things. “C’mon,” Haechan said, grabbing your hand. And you both held hands as he walked you to his parked bike.

The diner was bare, given the early hour as the clock transcended past midnight, but the food was delightful as promised. Only a pair of employees were working their shifts, but you and Haechan tried to keep it down as you talked over an early breakfast in the booth.

Which failed tremendously. Haechan was just so hilarious. Your laughter rang out through the breakfast joint in spite of how much you constantly reminded yourself to be quiet. You weren’t even paying attention to the pair of co-workers increasingly losing the will to live. You and Haechan talked about everything under the sun. The city and its shallow. Work and speeding vehicles. The best spots in the entire city. Your heart sped like how it did when you were speeding on his bike.

“Your friends are cool,” you told him after a while.

“But I’m cooler, right?” Haechan asked jokingly, earning a roll of your eyes.

You picked up your coffee and droned, “Very.”

Haechan laughed playfully but sobered a little to confess, “I’m glad I met them. It’s kill or be killed in this city. It’s hard to find people that don’t share the same three superficial personalities.”

“Oh?”

He bobbed his head. “Yeah. It’s brutal.”

“Tell me about them.”

“Shit, where do I even start?” Haechan said, chuckling a little, but soon finding the answer to his question. “Jaemin is a complete geek. Don’t be fooled by his looks. There’s a reason Winter turned him down the first time, but he’s a chill dude that doesn’t bother anybody. He’s studying to be an engineer.”

That surprised you and tempted you to laugh. “Really?”

“Yup. Ironically, he’s probably the most regular person out of all of us. He doesn’t like to draw attention to himself,” Haechan ranted, pausing to sip from his drink. “Winter is the complete opposite. She’s a model, like you. Been in Vogue. When she’s not feeling up Jaemin, she loves to tend to her garden.”

So that explained the abundance of flowers in their front yard. It was vibrant plant galore. They looked nurtured, obviously a lot of love was being put into taking care of them and keeping them healthy.

Haechan continued, “Ryujin is a unique blend of art kid and debate club survivor. She works part-time at the record store obviously, but she has big hopes for her paintings. She’s really talented.”

You were genuinely intrigued. “Wow. I would love to see her art.”

“That painting in Jaemin and Winter’s living room is hers. It was a housewarming gift when they moved in together,” Haechan told you like he was giving you the inside scoop. “Mark is a single pringle with way too much time on his hands, but he makes great music. He wants to be a famous rapper.”

“Mark and Ryujin aren’t boning?”

Haechan snickered loudly, shaking his head. “Nope. They’re like brother and sister. Ryujin has a boyfriend, but they’re dating long distance. He lives in Chicago or something like that.”

You made a face. “Commitment. That’s impressive. I respect it.”

“Yeah, same. I couldn’t handle it. I need too much stimulation for that shit,” Haechan said.

“Hypothetically, you wouldn’t be willing to make it work for me?”

Haechan thought over his answer, chewing over his words. “I would at least try,” he told you admittedly. “But I can’t say for sure I could make it work.”

You admired his bluntness. His ability to be straightforward was something you genuinely respected. You knew he wanted to impress you, but on top of all that and his acute need for humor, Haechan was incredibly honest. Unlike somebody you knew.

Curiously, you cocked your head, realizing you were missing somebody. “What about Jeno?” you asked.

“What about him?”

You cocked a brow. “You were telling me about your friends?”

Haechan made a face of remembrance. “Oh, right. Jeno is single, but Giacomo Casanova reincarnated. He could have been written by Shakespeare. Another aspiring model.”

Why aren’t you a model? You took one good goddamn look at Haechan and not very subtly licked your lips until they were dry. He was so breathtaking. You couldn’t believe he was the man behind the camera. “You’re kinda handsome, you know,” you admitted.

Haechan snickered. He hadn’t expected those words to come out of your mouth, but with how you were unabashedly checking him out, it was no secret you found him attractive. “Is that what you gathered from what I said?”

“No. I gathered that you’re fine enough to be a model and yet you are not. I think you even have the charisma,” you told him blatantly. “Why stand behind the camera?”

Haechan shrugged. Feigning nonchalance. “That’s just who I am,” he said.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it,” he replied with zero hesitation.

You shot him a smile. “Then, I guess that’s all that matters.”

Haechan nodded in agreement. He wouldn’t trade his job for the world. He liked being able to do his favorite hobby for a living. Not everybody had that luxury. You were the same way, but damn it you couldn’t take it off your mind how Haechan looked straight out of a magazine. You had seen hundreds of handsome men in your lifetime, far and up close, but he took the cake.

It was hard to believe Haechan was anything but a casanova himself, considering your first impression of him was that he was a player trying to get into your pants. Which was fair because he was, and he couldn’t deny that. But in spite of his good looks, magnetic personality and charisma, Haechan had some admirable personality traits.

You narrowed your eyes at him, accusing, and asked, “What do you think about debauchery?”

There you went with the random statements and questions again. Haechan snorted, leaned back in his seat, and replied silkily, “I am quite the debaucher.”

“You mean debauchee,” you corrected.

Haechan groaned, “Who gives a fuck? I love pussy.”

You snorted back a laugh. Again, honesty. Noted.

Haechan finished what was left of his pancakes in one final bite and chewed without any particular rush. “Listen, if you’re asking me this because you think I’m a player, you’ve got the wrong guy,” he said eventually.

Your mind was racing. You were plagued by doubts. “Do I?”

“You do.” Haechan dropped his fork, reaching for a napkin. Then, he added, “I fuck. I fool around. I’m not gonna lie and act like I’m a fucking prude. But when I’m tied down, I get tunnel vision.”

“Something tells me you’re not tied down often,” you remarked, never taking your eyes off of him.

Haechan met your stare and shot back, “Something tells me you don’t like being tied down.”

He caught you there. You wanted to be upset, but you couldn’t. Not when he was so right about you already. “I don’t mind being in a relationship butâ€¦ I don’t like it when men act as if a woman being in a relationship should deprive her of her individuality. I want to be independent.”

“Then, we’re the same in that regard,” he replied, grinning at you. “I would never try to control you or anything like that. You’re a grown ass woman and I’m a grown ass man. I just hate feeling stagnant and I need constant stimulation. Hypothetically, could you handle that?”

You pretended to mull it over. “Yeah.” You nodded your head. “I could.”

Haechan grinned wildly. He was liking where this was going. And he definitely wanted to see you again. Little did he know, you felt the exact same way.

Haechan checked his watch and frowned. “It’s late. I should take you back home.”

You quipped, “What kind of grown ass man has a curfew?”

Haechan snickered and started to tidy up his things.

You left the diner a couple minutes later, hopping back on Haechan’s sexy motorbike. He drove you through the city, besotted with how your arms felt wrapped so tightly around his waist as he sped through the night.

When he dropped you off at your doorstep, fingers laced through yours the entire trip there, something bittersweet came over you. You didn’t want the night to be over. Haechan had won you over in just one night alone.

“I guess this is goodbye,” you said when you’d reached your door.

“Goodbye for now,” Haechan corrected you, smirking. He could hear the sadness in your tone you tried to veil. “By the way, I’m free tomorrow. You can swing by my place to pick up the vinyl. I’ll text you my address.”

Confusion twisted your features for the briefest second before you remembered the reason you’d even agreed to go out on a date with him in the first place. You had forgotten all about your record collection. “Sounds great,” you chirped, reluctantly taking your keys from your purse. You were glad you would finally get your hands on the vinyl, though still crestfallen that he had to leave.

Haechan didn’t want to leave until he was certain you were safely inside your condo and he heard the door lock, but you surprised him when you unlocked your door and turned around to say, “I had a really great time tonight.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m glad.”

You pointed inside your place with your thumb. “Do youâ€¦ wanna come inside?”

It was no secret what that meant. You wanted to fool around with him, there was no doubt. “I shouldn’t,” Haechan said.

Not that he didn’t want to. But it was the first date and he didn’t want to seem like he was only after one thing.

The disappointment on your face was noticeable, but you forced a smile. “Right. You probably shouldn’t.”

Something told Haechan to bid you goodnight and leave it at that, but then he thought, Who the fuck am I kidding? And with all his self-restraint parked squarely beside his bike, he smashed his lips against yours.

Your first instinct was to be surprised, but then you kissed him back just as hard. Fuck, you had been resisting the urge the whole evening. It was so satisfying to finally know what his lips felt like pressed to yours like a mold. You lost your mind a little at how romantic his kisses were. They were hard, but slow. You met him halfway, feeling something shift in your body as the kiss steadily grew more and more heated. And you couldn’t fight the heat that wafted over you as his hands kneaded your hips.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s a great kisser, you screamed internally. It drove you mad. It made you crazy with burning ache.

Naturally, Haechan ultimately ended up slipping past your doorway, locking it shut behind him and kissing you through the hallways. “Bedroom?” he asked between kisses.

You pointed, although you were losing your sense of direction as you became drunk with the taste of him. You panted, “Over there.”

Each of you were both half-naked by the time you charged through your bedroom door. You were reduced to your underwear, your clothes scattered across the hallway in your wake. Haechan pulled you towards your bed, collapsing over you as your lips synced messily.

His warmth made you moan, little noises escaping you at the meeting of your bodies, skin to skin. Then, his lips attached to your throat, sinking lower and lower until you could feel his breath at your abdomen. “Can I taste this wet fucking pussy?” Haechan growled while flitting his gaze to your eyes.

One look at him between your thighs and you were tightening around nothing. There was no reason that should have been as attractive as it was. Please, your body begged. “Are you any good?” you asked.

Haechan cocked a brow at you and chuckled, reaching for some pillows to hand over to you. “Get comfortable,” were his only words.

You tucked the pillows he passed you underneath your elbows obediently and lifted your hips. Haechan started to slip your panties off, pulling them right down your ankles before they were tossed into oblivion. All it took was a single glance at your bare cunt for Haechan to dive between your legs. He gripped your thighs, spreading them apart and holding them in place. Your thighs were plush and it was no doubt he liked the way they fit in his palms.

Haechan spent a moment wandering, just getting a feel for what made you tick. Not a bunch of time was wasted idly and he caught on quickly, reducing you to moans and squirming quicker than anybody before him. It was infuriating. His hold on your thighs tightened, keeping you rooted and still. You bit your lip, trying to smother the sound of your soft sounds in an endeavor to wipe the smug look off his wet lips, but to no avail.

Haechan was eating you out like he just couldn’t get enough of you. Which wasn’t far from the truth at all. Your moans were pornographic and made him crazy with a burning, all-consuming flavor of lust. You covered your mouth flat with your palm, tense when he sucked your clit, moaning, “Fuck,” into your own hand.

You were already unbelievably sensitive. Maybe because it had been a while since you’d had sex. I’m so busy, you thought. Work had taken priority in your life. In between being pursued by Haechan, you were also becoming high-demand in shoots. None of that changed the fact you’d been maybe subconsciously hoping that this would happen though. You even shaved in the shower just before throwing on your clothes.

Your whole body was unstill. You clenched your hands into fists, over and over again, before finally letting yourself run your fingers through his dark hair. His lips felt so good, tracing the skin around your thigh. He was disarming you. Slowly but surely. Or maybe not that slowly at all.

“Haechan, shit. Fuck,” you cursed, your tongue tied in knots. Nothing could articulate how he was making you feel, how the walls of ice around you were collapsing in on themselves.

Haechan merely groaned against your cunt with a mouthful of pussy and the noise was powerful enough to kill you. You were already seeing god.

Your back arched off the mattress, your hips driving into his face. You couldn’t get enough either. He was making you greedy and you didn’t even understand what for. All you knew was that you wanted him and the attraction was so fervent it was undeniable now. The boy between your thighs had a mutual thought. The room was a hundred degrees hotter than it had been before, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t feel the heat from the outside, too engrossed with how besotted and hot for you he was internally.

He was going to get you to climax even if it was the last thing he did, not that you were far from finishing. And when you thought things couldn’t possibly get any better, he stuffed a pair of fingers inside your pussy.

The bedroom was too hot to breathe in. You kept panting, kept crying out Haechan’s name, pulling at his locks of hair as you pleased. And he let you. Your body was so indecisive, arching into him but flexing away involuntarily, as if it couldn’t decide what it wanted.

“Don’t stop. Please,” you cried out.

Your body only knew him right now, on the verge of going numb because of how sensitive and swollen your clit was. Haechan did the opposite of slow down. He was undeterred and absolutely nothing would stop him from bringing you to climax while he went down on you like a madman. You could feel the heat gathering in your thigh, like it would consume you at any given moment.

It was practically over for you when he continued to finger your sweet spot, dragging his fingers in and out of your perfect cunt. You were a whirlwind of excitement, less and less able to keep still the longer he sucked and fucked, and touched on you. You could feel sweat on your back and chest. “I’m gonna cum,” you warned.

“Cum,” Haechan told you, voice a little deeper. “I want you to cum, baby.”

The pressure was building. And it kept coming. There were no peaks, no limits. Like steady rainfall in the forest.

You cried out his name one last time before your orgasm got the best of you, making you shudder and shake, and tangle your fingers deeper into his head of hair. The whole world stopped for a second. But Haechan kept tasting you through your climax, not stopping until it was over. You arched off the bed, too many sensations hitting you at once.

When the last of your high faded your back hit the mattress with a thud. You were completely out of breath, a couple of tears forming a shroud in your eyes while they gathered at your lashes. You were finally broken.

But with your permission, Haechan went down on you one final time after that. For safe measure. Haechan finally pulled back once you’d cum for a second time, meeting your stare, but the eye contact only lasted for a couple of seconds because you couldn’t take yours off of his slick lips. He licked your release nonchalantly and something primal took over you. You were feeling less and less like a woman. More like a beast.

Haechan, grinning to himself as he took notice of how defeated you looked, cocked his brow at you expectantly. “So?”

Ah. You had asked him if he was any good. “Mind numb,” you panted. “Can’t think.”

Haechan laughed. Feeling a little less lethargic than before, you clambered over to him, tugging at his boxers. You could see the print of his hard dick against it.

“Someone’s impatient,” Haechan teased.

“Someone’s not moving fast enough,” you shot back, pulling them down for him to step out of. You gawked, licking your lips at the sight. Fuck, he was huge. You should’ve known.

You glanced up at him with a little glimmer in your eyes, asking, “Can I suck you off?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you replied, your lips dry from how much your tongue passed over them. He was just so fucking mouth-watering. You wanted a taste badly.

There was no way Haechan could tell you no when you looked at him with that sexy gleam in your eyes. Plus he wasn’t at all against feeling your mouth on his dick. “Alright,” he said, playing nonchalant.

Haechan moved to sit on your bed and you crept between his thighs, sitting on your knees. You spat in your hand and grabbed his dick, only pumping him in your fist for the meanwhile.

Then, you slowly transitioned into swirling your tongue around his dick, though not yet drawing him inside your mouth. You were toying with him, trying to see how much he could take, and Haechan realized very quickly that you were pushing his buttons. Which was strange. That was his thing. But he kinda liked it.

A high-pitched moan left him when you finally - fucking finally - started to take him past your lips, hollowing your cheeks, and he fisted your hair behind you. Giving you a full scan, Haechan realized how sexy you looked sucking him off, kneeled between his legs with that sexy ass stare in your eyes gazing up at him. You must have known it was his kryptonite.

And you did. Meeting his stare, you could read him just by looking at his handsome face. It was your time to be a smug little bitch. You wanted to break him, just like he had broken you. “Fuck, baby. Like that,” Haechan grunted, throwing his head back. Which meant you must have been doing something right.

You were feeling benevolent and took him deeper inside your mouth while wrapping your fist around whatever was still available. There were many sensations on his dick and it was doing something inexplicably unhinged to his brain.

One look at his face made you feel extremely accomplished. His features were tensed and his lips were parted. I’ll suck the soul outta that dick any day to see that face, you thought very amusedly to yourself, resisting a chuckle.

You pried yourself away for a while, still looking into his eyes, and taunted, “Too much for you, baby boy?”

“Never,” Haechan retorted, voice airy and light. Like he was on some fucking cloud.

You lifted a brow, amused, though in that case, decided it was time to up the stakes. You sucked him a little faster, taking him a little further until he hit the back of your throat. Very eager and deliberate.

Haechan was losing whatever was left of his goddamn mind. His thighs trembled, cock twitching inside your mouth. You were doing unspeakable things to him right now and he was absolutely obsessed. Your tongue touched the base of his dick and your free hand squeezed his bare thigh. God-fucking-damn, was all Haechan could think. Literally. His mind was numb, thanks to you. In a matter of minutes, his legs would probably be as well.

A couple of tears gathered in your eyes, but you willed yourself to power through. You couldn’t be finished until he was finished. You were way too resolved to make him unravel. At the sensation of your warm mouth, Haechan whimpered, “Fuck,” grabbing and using your hair.

His sounds were just so fucking hot. You wanted to record them so that you could put them on loop. Arousal seeped between your thighs, but you ignored it, just for his sake.

Some time had passed since your last blowjob. It was good to know that your mouth was still spectacular, if his sensitive movements and high-pitched moans were any indicator. You squeezed your thighs together. There was throbbing between your legs. Mutual chaos. Mutual destruction. The two of you were a very, very unlikely duo.

Haechan was warm to the touch everywhere you touched him, blood circulating through him swiftly like a Shanghai maglev. You traced your fingers up and down his thighs, giving them a little pinch, and were surprised to find he was incredibly pliant. You little freak, you thought teasingly. You jotted down a mental note to playfully scold him later, too concentrated on stringing him to climax.

The male before you looked a total of seconds away from malfunctioning altogether. You were making short work of him like no other girl and it was giving him much to think about.

Your nails found purchase in his thigh, dragging your nails down the flesh and leaving little red lines, just before you brought one of your hands to his cock again. You’d been pulling out all the stops to chase him closer to the finish. Every other thought on your mind vanished as you fixed all of your attention on making him cum. Haechan had the same thought, involuntarily bucking his hips as he tried to fuck your mouth.

You let him control the pace, let him do whatever he needed to finish. You moaned around his shaft again, sending vibrations that shook him. A little longer and he wouldn’t last.

“I’m coming. Shit, babe. Keep goingâ€¦,” he mumbled, winding his fingers through your scalp again. His pace was erratic. It was all you could do not to choke, giving him permission to use you to get himself off. And it was too fucking hot. You were in disbelief.

Haechan tried to be careful, not wanting to trouble you, but you knew what you were doing and he couldn’t exactly control his impulses. His impulses controlled him. You sucked and swallowed, all good and pliant.

Seconds later, Haechan was orgasming, painting the back of your throat with cum. His thighs shook and you could physically feel his dick twitch inside your mouth as he released. He moaned your name loud enough to wake the neighbors.

You took as much of his load as you could fit inside your mouth, but as it turned out, Haechan came a lot. Some dripped from your chin and you wiped it with the back of your hand. When he let go of your hair, you pulled back, just watching your handiwork smugly. You mocked, “So?”

Haechan blinked, like it would clear the invisible haze. He was barely handling the stimulation. You were undoubtedly one of the best he’d ever had and he was officially sprung with you. “High fucking hell,” he groaned.

You giggled. That was answer enough.

For an uncertain amount of hours (nobody was counting), you and Haechan took turns finishing each other, even sixty-nining once or twice till you needed a break.

“Okay, timeout. I can’t feel my dick,” Haechan sighed after a while, surprising himself. Usually, he wore other people out. Not the other way around, but the two of you were in a competition to see who could exhaust the other first. Haechan realized then and there that you were matching his energy and it shocked the hell out of him, because that was a first. He was even more interested in you now.

You chortled and collapsed on the bed. You were also having some revelations, but you kept them to yourself. He hasn’t even asked to put his dick in me, you realized after a moment. He was definitely a pussy fiend, but he hadn’t even fucked you and it’d been ages.

That was a first.

You held your chin in your face while staring at him. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

Haechan looked high as hell and he hadn’t done a single drug in your presence. “Not as we speak,” he replied quietly. “Other than playing pool with Jaemin later and giving you that vinyl, I don’t exactly have plans.”

“You should still rest,” you told him assertively. “Do you wanna stay the night?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

You smiled, resisting a squeal to contain your excitement. You patted the spot beside you, gesturing for him to come over. Which he did. “Goodnight,” you whispered.

“Goodnight, beautiful,” Haechan said, blowing a kiss your way.

You rolled your eyes, but quickly devolved into giggles and tangled yourself in his arms.

Sleep came easy for you that night and had you not forgotten to turn off your alarm, you would have slept past noon. You could feel the sunlight on your face and flipped over, desperate to escape its brightness.

That was when the memories of last night slammed into you like an eighteen-wheeler. Haechan’s fingers tangled in your hair and his mouth between your legs. Sleep had sobered you, the inebriety of lust distant, save for the ache that lingered in your thigh. Your heart fluttered for a second, but it was gone the second you noticed the man you’d spent all night with had disappeared, his arms no longer thrown around your waist.

You started to worry then. There was no note on your nightstand. You immediately grabbed your phone from your bedside table, hopeful of finding some sort of message, but Haechan didn’t even have the courtesy to leave a text or voicemail. Bitterness seeped into your chest as you assumed the worst. He’s had his fun and now he’s done, you thought disdainfully. Why you expected him to be any different was beyond you.

You threw on your robe and slipped on your slippers before stomping downstairs, full of attitude in large quantities. Maybe it was for the better that you didn’t exactly let him hit. But you still felt stupid, because you would have. If he would have asked.

But he didn’t.

Thoughts of hunger broke your reverie when you smelled eggs from the kitchen, which was strange, because you were certain that nobody was there. You grabbed a vase off a nearby table and approached the kitchen with slow, cautious strides.

A part of you hoped it was only Haechan, but surely enough, you were taken aback when you got an amazing view of his back while he faced your stove.

Haechan is here - and he’s cooking?

You shook your head. This man was full of surprises.

Haechan was none the wiser, humming to himself, and didn’t even realize you were present until he turned around to grab something from the island. “Good morning,” he said sweetly. He pointed to the vase in your hands. “Thought I was a killer?”

“You scared the shit out of me,” you sighed, walking over to the island and sitting the vase down.

Haechan grinned. “Why - you didn’t think I was gonna still be here?”

You didn’t have to answer that question. And you wouldn’t be. You didn’t like that he saw through you so clearly, it made you feel transparent. Changing the topic, you asked, “What you cooking?”

“Omelets,” he replied nonchalantly, fixed to the stove again. “I know we technically had breakfast not too long ago, but I saw how much you liked omelets.”

Something fluttered in your chest. It was sweet, dare you say.

“That’s really thoughtful of you,” you whispered, getting comfortable at the island.

“I’m a thoughtful guy.”

“That you are.”

Comfortable silence enveloped you in its wholeness. For the first time since you met him, if it was worth noting. Neither of you liked the quiet very much - silence gave too much room for thinking - but you didn’t mind it right now.

Haechan slipped a steaming omelet from the pan to your plate masterfully, handing you a knife and fork. You opened your mouth to thank him, but he beat you, finally starting, “Speaking of thinking, I been, well, thinking. And I need you to not go ghost on me after this.”

Your eyes flickered, but you glanced at your plate to hide your surprise, cutting off a morsel. “Why would I do that?” you asked.

Haechan shrugged his shoulders, but ranted, “I just hate when you think shit tight with a girl, and then after you hook up, they don’t wanna keep in touch anymore.”

“Huh,” you mumbled. “Funny. I feel the same way.”

Haechan took the seat beside you. His eyes met yours, something sober in them. “I say all of this to say that I like where this is going and I want to see you again. But if you’re not on the same page, let me know right now.”

“I’m on the same page.”

He pressed, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Haechan,” you replied, setting down your knife. “If I didn’t want to keep seeing you after this, I would tell you in no uncertain terms. I’m having fun.”

Haechan nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeated. “This is really, really good, by the way. Where’d you learn to cook?”

The boyish smile was back on Haechan’s handsome face. “Everything I know I owe to my parents,” he said. “This particularly to my mother.”

You taunted, “Ah. You a Momma’s boy?”

Haechan chuckled. “Something like that, yeah.”

Almost endearing. You got a mental picture of a tiny Haechan peaking around the corner, watching his mother cook, and it brought a smile to your lips.

Both of you talked over breakfast. You got orange juice out of the fridge for you to drink and spent what was left of the morning chattering incessantly. You finally accepted that you liked Haechan. Maybe unconsciously, you’d been fighting it because of your ex.

As of now, you were playing tug-of-war with your heart. On the one hand, there was a part of you that lingered over him and it still felt forbidden to be interested in other men. But one swift reminder that he was interested in other girls while apparently being interested in you, and all the feelings you had for him dissolved into resentment.

Plus you weren’t exactly ready for another relationship, nor did you completely trust Haechan yet, but on the other hand, he made you forget all about the bastard that hurt you. And how it felt to be hurt.

Needless to say, you would be seeing him again. Haechan made you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

You were sad when he had to leave, picking up his clothes that were scattered across your entire condo and redressing himself, but gladly kissed him goodbye. On the cheek. For various reasons.

Besides, you would be seeing him later on that day anyways. You both had things to take care of.

Chaewon was sporting the biggest smile you’d ever seen when you climbed into the back of the taxi with her. You expected a stern reprimanding, given that you hadn’t returned any of her calls or texts since last night, but somehow this was worse.

“Don’t even,” was the first thing you said when you entered the backseat.

Chaewon grinned mischievously, singing, “You’re glowing.”

“Yes. There’s this cool thing called a skin care routine. You may have heard of it,” you deadpanned.

Chaewon wriggled her eyebrows. “Does this skin care routine consist of Lee Haechan’s semen?”

You grimaced. “Gross.”

“You guys totally boned, didn’t you?” she asked. Though it was less of a question and more of a declaration. You hoped the driver was tuning both of you out.

“Jesus, Chae. Good morning to you, too,” you replied boredly.

“Good morning, bestie. Now did you or did not you bone Haechan?”

You just rolled your eyes. She was relentless. “Okay, fine,” you started, sighing out a little. “We hooked up.”

“I fucking knew it,” Chaewon exclaimed.

You added sharply, “But we didn’t have sex. It was strictly head.”

Chaewon gave you a look. “Girl, seriously? How was it?”

You pretended to think about it. Memories of last night plagued you. You couldn’t get the image of Haechan strumming you to climax out of your head. You admitted quietly, “He made me see a star or two. Maybe a galaxy. Maybe another universe.”

Chaewon clasped her hands together and made a squealing noise of excitement.

All you could do was shake your head. But you couldn’t deny that all of your doubts and hesitations about Haechan had been converted into an inexplicable will to see him again. You had an impulse to smile and faced the window so that she couldn’t see.

“You’re smiling,” Chaewon teased, watching your reflection.

“I’m not.”

Chaewon nudged you with her elbow. “Come on, girl. You deserve this. You deserve to be happy.”

“I am happy. And I don’t need a man to be happy,” you quickly replied.

Chaewon frowned. “You know that’s not what I meant. You’ve obviously been down in the dumps since you called off the engagement and I think it’s a good thing you’re letting yourself be a little more lax.”

You let out a disgruntled groan.

Chaewon slipped her fingers through yours and continued, “No one’s saying that you’ve gotta jump the broom. With how hard you’ve worked all these years, you deserve to play.”

“I know, and that’s all he is. We’re just playing around,” you assured her in spite of the fact that nobody questioned it in the first place. “We’re just kickin’ it.”

Chaewon squeezed your hand.

Meanwhile, Haechan was across town with a friend of his own.

“I’ve got a question for you, man,” Haechan started after a total of three minutes of silence.

Jaemin slung his head back and whined, “Oh, brother.”

He had seen it coming from a mile away. Haechan treated silence like the black plague and when he wasn’t chatting his friends ears off for every second of every minute, he was thinking. Of course, Jaemin knew his friend well enough, so it was no doubt he had a question.

Truth be told, Haechan hadn’t stopped thinking about you since he left your condo. The endless hours of chatter, you dancing in his arms, the sex. All of it was giving him a lot of shit to ponder.

“It’s been weighing on my mind for a while,” he continued, choosing his words carefully. “Do you think you’re with the someone you’re meant to be with?”

“You mean like my soulmate?”

Haechan gave him a nod, although Jaemin was too busy resting the cue between his fingers. “Yeah, like your other half or some shit like that. The one you’ll live for and die with.”

Sparing his friend a couple seconds worth of a glance, Jaemin paused his endeavors and mulled the question over. “You know, not everybody wants to be in love. But everybody wants to be loved,” he began. “People who get in relationships solely to feel loved don’t know what love is.”

“What’s that gotta do with my question?”

Jaemin shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t trade the love Winter and I share with each other for the world, but what nobody tells you about love is that it has its fair share of ups and downs. There’s bad days and disagreements. Not everybody wants to deal with that.”

“That’s some profound shit, brother,” Haechan teased.

“Whatever, man. I’m just saying that the idea that love has no bounds is false. I’d give my life for Winter and I wanna marry her someday, but we’ve both got boundaries because love is mutual respect.”

Haechan’s mind was adrift again. He was thinking.

Jaemin connected the dots, blocking the corner pocket with his hand. “Now wait just a second. Don’t tell me this is about that girl.”

Haechan groaned, “What are you doing, man? Can I get my shot?”

“No, no, no. This is about that girl you brought over last night, isn’t it?” Jaemin asked.

Now, Haechan was officially caught. He heaved a breath, stood to his full height, and said, “You just don’t get it, man. We were talking for hours and she could actually keep up with my bullshit. Not only that, but she understood. Then, I get her in the sheets, and man.”

Jaemin snickered. “I’m guessing it was good?”

“Understatement of the year,” Haechan sighed loudly. “I mean, we didn’t even fuck. She volunteered to suck me off. She left me mind-blown, you hear me? Mind-blown. I can still feel my thighs shaking.”

Jaemin whistled. “Goddamn. So, you think she’s your soulmate?”

“Nah, man,” Haechan replied nonchalantly, setting his cue back on the table. “She’s impressive. That’s all. We’re just kickin’ it. You know I don’t do the whole love thing anymore.”

Jaemin could sniff bullshit from a mile away but shifted his hand. “Alright, man. But when those jones come down,” he started, blunt. “It’s a motherfucker.”

Haechan’s eyes flickered.

#haechan smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #haechan x reader #nct imagines #haechan imagines #lee haechan smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

759 notes · View notes

hxlxnaaa · 3 months ago

Text

𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 ─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: in order to get a creepy coworker off your back, you begrudgingly let sylus play the part of your fake boyfriend. unfortunately, your emotions and pride quickly spiral out of control.

★ 𝐜𝐰/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: first person pov, enemies to lovers, fake dating, part 1 out of 2, angst, some swearing

★ 𝐰𝐜: 5k

★ 𝐚/𝐧: i had HELLA writers block while writing this, so if it seems chaotic and rushed that's why. i really wanted to scrap this but i spent so long on it i would be disappointed if i did. this is part one out of two, and i promise to get part two out super soon! it should be a lot better than this one *sob*

“Is that a new necklace?”

I grimace, the annoying twerp’s voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

“No, Nicholas, it's the one I always wear.” I press my lips into a tight line, staring at the papers in front of me. After everything I’ve tried, I don’t know how he hasn’t caught on with how absolutely, utterly disinterested I am.

Nicholas was a recent graduate from the academy, starting his first year here at the Association. At first he seemed sweet, like an infatuated kid, but it quickly worsened and now I have to deal with harassment every day at work.

He’d do anything and everything to spark a conversation, trying to work any attention out of me despite all my efforts of ignoring him. I tried to be nice originally, letting him down easily whenever he’d pay me compliments and ask me out to lunch.

That didn’t work.

He became more persistent, and I resorted to either giving him the silent treatment or being straight up rude. Throwing him off my back seemed like an impossible task, and I was convinced I had developed some sort of parasite that was bound to me until I retired.

“Ah, I’ve never noticed…” Nicholas sat himself in front of me, and I could feel his stare on my face.

Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look up.

“Hey guys!”

Thank God.

Forcing a smile at Tara’s cheerfulness, Nicholas paid her a nod, clearly unsettled with her interruption. She came up behind me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. If there was anyone who was capable of putting a wedge in between me and my borderline stalker, it was Tara.

“Are you excited for the Hunter’s Ball? I can't believe it’s already coming up…” She sighed dreamily behind me, resting her cheek on the top of my head. While the Hunter’s Ball wasn’t my favorite event, it was typically a good time.

Well, at least before Nicholas came along.

I couldn’t imagine how it would go this year, him crawling six feet up my ass as I try to shake him off the whole night. It’s bad enough I have to deal with him sober, I can’t even imagine how much more unbearable he’d become with drinks in his system. This was the one night of the year the Association actually shows their appreciation for their employees, and I’d be damned if I couldn’t enjoy myself.

“It’s always nice we get a plus one,” Tara mentions, “I can't wait to see who everyone brings." She nudges my shoulder with her arm, laughing.

The look in Nicholas’ eyes told me everything he was about to say. I could practically hear the words come out of his mouth before he even spoke them-

“Yeah, I’m gonna bring my boyfriend.” I spoke before thinking, the words an act of desperation. Nicholas’ eyes widened and Tara’s arms flew from my body, as she whipped herself to stand in front of me.

Oh no, why would I say that- Why did I say that?!

“Your… what!” She started grasping at my hands, questions flying out of her mouth before I couldn’t even process half of them, “Since when? What’s his name? Where’d you meet him? Do you have any pictures?”

I knew I had gotten myself into trouble, I didn’t even have the slightest clue as to who I could possibly feign to be my boyfriend; but the look on Nicholas’ face told me I needed to keep up whatever I was doing, because it was working.

I smiled innocently, “We’ve been keeping it on the down low, things are still pretty new. I was planning to hard launch us at the Ball.” Chuckling nervously, I was convinced nobody was believing a word I was saying.

“Ohmygosh Mystery Man! I’m so excited!” Tara continued to blabber on, trying to pull any detail she could out of me. I made eye contact with Nicholas and thought about how soon the Ball was - only a week away.

Letting out a sigh of relief because of my believable lie, the feeling soon faded and was replaced with chest crushing stress. I had no boyfriend, and no plan; I was going to have to think fast.

Laying in my bed that night, I scoured my brain for any potential suitor. I thought maybe Zayne, a cardiac surgeon and childhood best friend. He’d be perfect, all my coworkers would be so pleased, but a cow would have to jump over the moon before he’d even think about complying. Maybe Xavier’s friend Jeremiah? A sweet florist…No, Xavier would never let me do that.

I flipped onto my stomach, screaming into my pillow. Smushing my face into the fabric, I silently prayed I’d suffocate and be free from this mess I’d webbed myself into.

Before I could pass out and be put out of my misery, my phone started to ring.

Not even looking at the caller id, I picked it up and answered with a disgruntled, “Hello?”

“You never sound pleased to hear from me, Kitten.”

I screamed into the pillow again, Sylus being the complete utter last person I wanted to hear from right now.

He chuckled over the line, “Actually, I think that might be the unhappiest I’ve heard you.”

“What do you want?”

“Can I not just call to talk? I’ve had a rough day and wanted to hear your voice.”

I let out a forced laugh, “You’ve had a rough day? YOU’VE had a rough day? You will not believe the day I had then.”

His voice softened, “Talk to me about it then.”

While I most definitely realized my day couldn’t be comparable to his, as he was essentially a mob boss running the N109 Zone, venting about my problems felt nice. As much as I couldn’t stand Sylus, with his incessant arrogance and backhanded flattery, he was easy to talk to sometimes.

Sometimes.

“I don’t even know how I got myself into this situation. Well, I do know, I just didn’t mean to!” I groaned, throwing my face into my hands.

He sits in silence for a minute, and I can hear the soft playing of one of his records in the background. It’s annoying how he feels the need to call and bother me, with a side of music, to wind down at night.

“When is it?” He finally asks, and I hear shuffling.

“Next Saturday, so…” I can practically see the clock ticking down, “Shit, a week from today.”

“What time?”

“9- Sylus, why?”

“I’ll be there at 8:30 then.” There’s mirth in his voice and my face goes pale, “Sylus, no, don’t you dare. It cannot be you, just let me borrow one of your men or something.”

Sylus lets out a low laugh, “Now why would I do that when I could just be your date?”

“Not date,” I cut him off, “fake boyfriend.”

“Of course, fake boyfriend.” He clucked his tongue, “Why would I let someone else be your fake boyfriend?”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re the big bad Onychinus boss?” Pressing a finger to my temple to ease the headache that he was becoming, I started to pace my floor. “You’re stepping into enemy territory at this event, there’s no way I’ll be able to save your ass if you get found out, let alone what will happen to me and my place at the Association.”

“I’ve already met some of your coworkers before, remember? It’s best if it's me instead of some stranger, and trust me sweetie, they won’t know.”

My coworkers did take a liking to him when they met during one of our outings, Sylus just had this charisma about him that sucked everyone in; the mysterious fruit vendor Skye who was absolutely horrid at karaoke. He stole their hearts quickly, and I’m lucky if they don’t ask me at least once a week how he’s doing. Sylus was just magnetic like that, even if you tried your damndest to hate him, there’s just something about his demeanor that’s magic.

He has a point here, and it’s killing me to admit he’s right.

“Fine,” I snap, “but absolutely no funny business.”

“I’m not sure what you could possibly mean by that, Kitten.” Sylus lets out a low laugh that makes me want to punch my phone, “I’ll be there at 8:30.”

Before I can respond, he quickly hangs up. I’m left sitting on my bed with racing thoughts of everything that could possibly go wrong. Was bringing Sylus really worth getting this creep off my back? Well, if there was anyone who could scare him off, it would be the leader of Onychinus. Worst case scenario, I have Sylus pull a gun out on him.

I shake my head, trying to clear my stupid thoughts.

I sent him a picture of the invitation, which included the dress code. I wasn’t too worried about him making a fool out of me, just the overwhelming anxiety of bringing a top criminal as my date to a work event where we quite literally are attempting to hunt this exact man down.

Trying to trust Sylus isn’t the easily discoverable type, I make a miserable attempt to put my mind to rest, and get some sleep.

The next week following my abrupt news of a boyfriend was hell. Not to my surprise, word was quickly spread through the Association, and I was constantly being flooded with questions and endless pressure to just ‘give them a name!’. I even had Xavier at my desk with questions one morning, and he was always the type to steer away from work related gossip.

Not to mention Sylus himself was being utterly insufferable. He was taking this far too seriously, sending lunch and flowers to my work with paper love notes attached. It was bringing on more attention at work, and every time I told him to stop, he’d just send more extravagant bouquets that cluttered my desk and made the surrounding area smell like a funeral.

At one point, I woke up to a box in the mail. Inside was a black velvet dress, a ruby necklace, and heels. Sending him an angry text about how I have my own clothes, he just responded by transferring 200 dollars into my bank account saying, ‘Get your nails done too. Match the outfit.’

By Saturday night, I was almost ready for everyone to meet Sylus, just so people would stop with the ‘fake boyfriend trivia’ while I’m on the clock, and his annoying attempts at romantic gestures.

The night of, at 8:30 on the dot, I heard a knock at my door.

On the other side was a well dressed Sylus; I think it was the first time I had ever seen him done up so nicely. He wasn’t ever one to slack on his looks, but in his black pinstripe suit and red tie that matched my gifted necklace, I had to take a second. Even though he made me constantly want to take my gun and replicate the time I shot him, I could never deny he’s hot. His arguably perfect looks just adds to the hatred.

He looked me up and down, smirking. The dress he had gotten me was backless and stopped at my ankles, with a slit up to my thigh that had me worried that with one wrong move I’d flash all my coworkers. Opening his mouth to I’m sure to make a snide comment, I cut him off.

“I have to put on my shoes and that necklace, but then I’m ready.” I walked over to the coffee table and grabbed the ruby piece that was gifted, struggling with the clasp thanks to the nails I was practically forced to get.

“Here.” Coming up behind me, Sylus took the necklace from my hands. Brushing my hair out of the way, I felt his fingers against my neck as he secured the jewelry with ease. I turned around to face him, and he smiled down at me.

He gestured to the couch, “Sit.”

His one word commands were starting to get on my nerves. “What?” I glared at him.

Grabbing my shoulder and softly pushing me back, I tumbled onto the couch. Sylus snickered, “I said sit, Kitten.”

Getting on his knees, he picked up my ankle, slipping the heel onto my foot.

“I could’ve done this myself.” Scoffing, I averted my eyes to anywhere that wasn’t Sylus on his knees in front of me.

“I’m sure you could with those nails, sweetie.” He hooked the straps around my ankle, and I felt my skin burn red where his fingers danced. It was definitely red with anger.

For sure.

Standing when he was done, Sylus reached a hand out to me. Narrowing my eyes at his hand, I ignored the help. To my dismay, I stood up too fast in heels and lost a bit of my balance. Sylus caught my waist and gave me a smug smile, pulling me into him. “You look absolutely beautiful tonight, my love.”

I grimaced, pulling away from his grasp and heading to the door. “Oh, do not do that. No more of that.”

“We have to get into character, I’m just being prepared.”

“Be in character when we’re there. Not here.”

“I have to get into the mindset.” Sylus creeped closer to me, and I stepped back. At this point, I was essentially pinned in between him and the door. “After all, I have to practice so I can impress everybody.” He leaned down, his breath fanning against the side of my neck.

“Right.” I rolled my eyes, opening the door behind me and taking a backwards step out. Sylus stumbled at the sudden movement, and I smirked at his loss of composure. “Let’s go, we’ll be late.”

When we arrived, I felt my heart begin to race. All the mental preparation I had done for this exact night fled my mind as soon as Sylus put the car into park. My worry was not of showing off my new fancy fake boyfriend, it was the fact that I was bringing my new fancy fake boyfriend into an arena that was hunting him. Over the past week I’ve tried telling myself he’s not easily discoverable, I mean, if he was, the Association would’ve had him tracked down by now. However, knowing my luck, I was preparing for the worst.

Sylus gently placed his hand on my thigh, attempting to give me a reassuring smile, “It’ll be okay, Kitten. Just follow my lead.”

We’re fucked.

He walked around, opening the door for me. His car was clearly the nicest and most expensive out of all the guests tonight, and I knew if anybody saw I’d never hear the end of it.

When we were nearing the entrance, I sighed, shoving down my pride and grabbing Sylus’ arm, wrapping myself sweetly around his bicep. I watched his lips curve upward into a smug smile, and I suppressed the urge to throw myself off and take my heel to his-

“Invitation please.” Sylus handed the men working the door the two slips of paper, and I begrudgingly walked in clinging to his arm.

‘Playing the character’, I thought.

The venue the Ball was being held at was extravagant, with a high, golden ceiling, and golden marble floors.

It was filled to the brim with people that worked for the Association, plus their guests. I winced at the sheer amount of people, automatically going into defense mode due to the overwhelming fact that we were outnumbered.

“Smile, sweetie.” Letting go of his arm, Sylus took his pointer finger and thumb, lightly pulling the corners of my mouth upward.

I nipped at his finger, and he poked my nose as a warning.

I heard someone shriek my name, and I whipped around to see Tara quickly approaching. “Oh wow, you’re beautiful!” She wrapped me up in a tight hug, rocking me side to side. Letting go of me just as fast, Tara gasped when she saw Sylus.

“Skye! Oh my gosh it’s you, how sweet!” She fawned over us, and he smiled kindly at her, “You look lovely tonight, Tara.” If he kept up the nice talk, I was going to put my head through one of the walls.

“Here, come with me. Some of us already have a table together!”

Tara dragged us over to a table where a few of my most nagging coworkers stood around talking. Introducing him to the ones who had never met him, I groaned internally, ready for the torment of questions to begin.

“So,” Tara dropped the first bomb, “how long have you two been a thing?” I know this has been weighing on her worse than me all week.

“About a month now.” Sylus answered with ease. I tried to suppress a shocked look on my face, because I was planning on doing all the talking; but that continued, them rapid firing questions and Sylus answering all of them as if he had this all thought out. I mean, shit, he was convincing me.

“I have to know how this happened!” One of them said, and Sylus tucked my hair behind my ear, pretending to recall the moment.

“I had feelings for her for a while,” He said, smiling down at me, “and it got to a point where I couldn’t take it anymore. It was spur of the moment, but I showed up at her door in the middle of the night and had to ask her if she felt the same.”

Damn. He was good.

All the girls squealed, “That's so romantic!”

I placed my hand on Sylus’ chest, batting my eyelashes up at him, “I’m gonna go get a drink, d’you want anything?” He grabbed my hand, matching my energy, and kissing my knuckles, “No, sweetie, that’s quite alright. I’ll stay here and entertain your friends.”

All of them cooed at the sight, probably thinking we were so lovesick for each other it hurt. Well, it did hurt, this whole thing was a pain in my ass I needed to be over.

I grabbed a glass of wine from the drink table, the group out of sight. Sighing, I resisted the urge to down the glass all at once. While I was uncomfortable, I couldn’t deny everything was going well. Everyone was pleased, so I tried to relax.

“That's a pretty necklace,” I heard from behind me, “is it new?”

Nevermind.

Turning around, there stood Nicholas. His eyelids drooped, and he reeked of wine.

“What did you say?” I asked, looking around for the quickest exit route.

“I said I liked your necklace. Is it new?”

God, does this twerp have any other material?

“Yes, it is.” A low voice said, and I felt an arm wrap around my waist. My head shot up to meet Sylus in the eyes; I guess my face was screaming, ‘Help me!’, because he gave my side a soft squeeze of reassurance.

“Oh.” Was all Nicholas replied, shooting his eyes back and forth between Sylus and I. In his head, I imagined the pieces clicking together. ‘This is it,’ I thought, ‘finally he’ll leave me alone!’

“This song is nice… Would you care to dance?” There were no thoughts behind his eyes. This guy was genuinely dense. I could’ve sworn my jaw dropped at his stupidity, and Sylus chuckled next to me.

“So sorry, but tonight she’s mine.” Swiftly sweeping me away, Nicholas and my glass of wine were quickly left behind.

“Why don’t you dance with me instead, sweetie?” Sylus said, leading me to the open floor where people were dancing to the soft classical music.

Sylus put my hand on his shoulder, intertwining my other hand with his. Placing his hand on my lower back, he pulled me in closer to him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes stared into mine, and there was something behind them I couldn’t quite place my finger on. We started slowly ballroom dancing in our own little spot on the floor, a bit away from everyone else. As much as I wanted to strangle this man, I could relax a little in his arms. He just felt safe sometimes.

Sometimes.

“You’re doing good tonight.” Sylus said, still looking into my eyes.

“Thanks.” I started playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, “So where do we go from here?”

He raised a brow, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t think I do, Kitten.”

“How am I going to tell my coworkers that we ‘broke up’ right after this? They’ll be suspicious.”

“We could keep doing this for a while.” Sylus shrugged, smirking.

Groaning, I slammed my head on his shoulder, “Tonight was bad enough, I can’t do this for any longer.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

He was right. I didn’t have a better idea.

So we did just that.

I was going to give it two months. Then, it would say we were together for three months total, which looked like a completely reasonable time to test run a relationship and then call it quits.

At first, I was completely miserable. I already couldn’t stand Sylus as a friend, how could I stand him as my ‘boyfriend’? After that night at the Ball, to my dismay, he completely won everybody over. It made me feel like I had to put more effort into faking all of this.

The extravagant gifts sent to my work started getting sent to my place too. I told him he didn’t have to send them to me outside of work, let alone at all, but he always insisted so he could “stay in character”.

Whether it was convincing me to let him take me out to fancy places, like dinner or a show, it was always just to keep him ‘in character’. I think he just liked using that excuse so I would be forced to hang out with him and not be able to deny or complain about it.

Though, after a bit, it became easy to slip into a groove.

I started to not mind the talk about Sylus; everything started to become bearable, and dare I say it, kind of fun.

We had played with the claw machines once, and he won a white cat plushie. Jokingly, I had told him it looks exactly like him, and snapped a picture of the cat next to his face to prove a point.

I made that photo my wallpaper, to make things more realistic. It freaked me out for a while whenever I’d open my phone, but I came to like it after a while. Sylus looked kind of cute in the photo, his expression mocking the plushies. He looked kind, warm, a soft look on his face you didn’t see on him often. The more I saw the photo, the more it made me smile.

I began looking forward to his calls, his texts. He’d call me to say good morning, or tell me goodnight, even if he was in the middle of a meeting. The ‘fake dates’ became less uncomfortable as I grew more accustomed to the situation we had put ourselves into. The roles we were playing came easier and easier with time.

Which was causing a problem.

It wasn’t hard to notice the way my body would flush when he touched me, or how my once strong demeanor around him would start to falter. Words and actions of his that would be fast to anger me, quickly changed into something else.

I was starting to care about him. How annoying.

There was one day when Sylus decided he was going to pick me up from work. “Your coworkers will think it's cute.” He had said, and who was I to deny a free ride home.

He showed up on his bike in his leather jacket, in all his badass glory. Leaning against the bike, he stood up straight and smiled at me when I came outside. As time had gone on, Sylus was slowly becoming less hard and uncaring towards me. He began treating me like I was fragile, always so gentle with me. Him getting into character I suppose.

Sylus held his hand out towards me, and when I took it, he pulled me into his chest. I squealed, laughing at the sudden gesture.

“They’re looking,” He said, glancing at a few of my coworkers still inside, watching us intensely, “Kiss me.”

I choked, “What?”

He grabbed my chin, tilting it up slightly. He cocked his head to the side a bit, almost as if to ask, ‘is this okay?’.

Nodding my head yes, Sylus smirked before leaning down and pressing his lips against mine. For how aggressive he can be as the leader of Onychinus, the kiss was unusually soft. I had imagined kissing him, for all of this, and I never expected him to be the type to be so kind and gentle.

My blood was rushing in my ears and I thought I was going to melt under his hands. I didn’t realize just how bad I subconsciously wanted this until it was happening, and I wanted more. I wanted to kiss him so hard I could steal the air from his lungs, I wanted to grip his shirt so tightly my knuckles turned white because I could finally have him.

When he pulled away, and kissed the corner of my eye, I knew I was fucked.

I didn’t just care about him, I wanted him. I wanted Sylus to be mine, I wanted this to be real, I wanted-

No, I couldn’t want anything.

It would never work. Our lives were too different, we were too different, everything would be doomed from the start. He was a faraway dream that would never come true. He could never be what I wanted.

I always wanted security, someone stable and safe. Sylus could never give me that.

So why do I want him so badly?

It was my friend's birthday party.

I had invited Sylus, because what had originally been a fake relationship to get a creep coworker off my back, spread like a wildfire to a fake relationship that was now known by all my friends.

I only invited him because I knew it would be strange if I showed up without him.

After he kissed me, and my feelings became a living hell to deal with, I started to pull back; started to psych myself out mentally, constantly spending time just trying to convince myself how bad we would be for each other. Trying to will myself to hate him again, go back to where I was two months ago. When Sylus was a nuisance, an annoying pest.

I don’t even really think he noticed. Or if he did, I couldn’t tell.

When we got to the party, the music and laughter could be heard from outside, a drastic change from the almost silent car ride. Sylus tried to make conversation, and I shut him down almost every time.

We walked in, and my friends all greeted him with easy familiarity. They gave him hugs, pats on the back, and he was welcomed effortlessly.

I stood a distance away as he laughed with my friends, and my chest began to hurt. Guilt, dread, I felt doomed. He wasn’t meant to be here, he was never meant to be here. Sylus doesn’t belong with my friends. Sylus doesn’t belong with me.

None of this is real. All of this is one little lie that spun into a web of something so much bigger, and I’m stuck in it.

He looks happy with them, happy with my friends. Happy in my space, with my people. How could he? He’s an intruder, he knows it.

I knew tonight was the night I was done. This couldn’t go on any longer. No more playing house with Sylus, no more pretending. We’re adults, and this whole thing was so childish, and it ends now.

I stepped outside, sitting on the back patio. The night air was cold, and I wasn’t sure if it was the sharp air of my distress that was making my lungs constrict.

“There you are.”

I didn’t turn around to meet the voice, just kept staring into the trees ahead.

Sylus stood beside me, running his fingers through the top of my hair. I relished the feeling, ‘one last time, it’s okay’.

He didn’t ask any questions, didn’t ask why I was out here, if I was okay. I was happy for that, it could give me another reason to be mad at him. To hate him again. To try and rile up all my old feelings, stir old bitterness.

“I want to go home.” I finally said, breaking the silence.

We got in the car, this time he didn’t try to speak. His face was hard again, the soft look long gone. I think, in a way, he knew too. He knows this is for the better.

I said goodbye, told him goodnight before he left. Told him to drive safely.

It had been two months, that’s what I gave him. It was time for it to be over anyways. I changed my wallpaper, changed his name back. I didn’t care if I had to deal with Nicholas at my job anymore, anything was better than the gutted feeling I got from every interaction with Sylus. Nothing was worth that.

The next day, it was radio silence. For the first time in two months, there was nothing. No good morning, no texts throughout the day, no calls to tell me goodnight; and that just continued. For days. Silence.

I had perfected the speech I was going to tell my coworkers, “We gave it our best, but it just wasn’t going to work out between us.” It was reassurance for them, and myself.

It just wasn’t going to work out between us.

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #lnds #lnds smut #lnds fluff #lnds angst #sylus love and deepspace #sylus smut #sylus fluff #sylus x mc #love and deep space #hxlxnaaawrites

1K notes · View notes