#No Mr boss man you don't understand

[softly-n-sweetly]

gotta wait like two weeks to replace my vibe😔

[hoseoksluna]

TIME | knj

pairing: fiancé!namjoon x oc 

genre: smut

word count: 13.0k

summary: namjoon makes your dream come true in a much better way than you ever wanted.

pinterest board: divine | playlist: time | taglist: join

warnings: basic relationship fears, oc is heartbroken in the beginning, fight, minor violence, oc has daddy issues (like the writer), namjoon and oc smoke (like the writer as well <3), family sickness, punishment, spanking, choking, hair pulling, a mention of throat fucking and squirting, namjoon has an obsession with oc's boobies, dirty talk, use of a blindfold during intercourse, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, handjob, multiple orgasms, raw sex, namjoon talks her through it, praise kink

note: i will cherish this work until the day i die. i will carry it in my heart and never, ever forget it. this might be my best piece and i don't think i'll ever write anything as good as this. i love namjoon with all my heart and i want to thank him for inspiring me to write this. if he weren't such an amazing person, such a dear person to me and if he never released cbtm, this work wouldn't be here and i wouldn't brim with so many warm emotions. i gotta tell you guys—while writing the smut, this was the first time i wasn't affected by it in a way that i normally am because i found so much beauty in their relationship. enjoy this, my loves. let me know what you think. i love you. <3

The orange light in the hotel room causes bile to rise in your throat. It exudes a zephyr of mockery, such profound air of scorn, and you feel it thumping upon its reflection on the bare skin of your arms. You want to pinch it—make it hurt somehow, cause it the same agony that’s poisoning your system through and through because in all truth, that’s all you’re left to do. 

The Eiffel tower out beyond your window, blanketed in a soft layer of snow, has begun to twinkle. The perception of how long you’ve waited for your fiancé to come back that even such a monumental structure, your dream, has descended to its sleep full of blinding light beckons gooseflesh to mar your skin and it doesn’t go away. Not when your sight blurs, unfocuses, and the stars that have latched themselves to the tower enlarge into bulbs with softened edges, a myriad of bokeh that seem to have a slither of pity for you, lessening their grandness as the falling snow thickens. Not when both of your waterlines become rivulets of tears that heat your cold cheeks, despite the burning bushes of fury that incinerate your lungs. 

Just one more hour and the twigs of flames will perforate the chambers of your heart and sweep it clean of any emotions, any feelings, any understanding for the man that took you to Paris and left you all alone in the hotel room he paid for. You thought he took you here to give you the experience of seeing something new as you’ve never been to Europe and you’ve shared with him on several occasions that it’s always been your dream to see the Eiffel tower. Especially at night when it glimmers with such pretty, pretty stars. But considering he brought you here under the pretense of doing business, you carry nothing but contempt for the strange iron structure. So much for dreaming, so much for putting trust in a man. 

There will always be the other woman. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the form of a female, of alcohol, of ignorance. In this case, the mistress is Namjoon’s company and you should’ve known you’ll have her haunting your back for the rest of the trajectory of your secret relationship with him, with Mr. President. 

You should’ve seen it coming the moment she created a realm for you to soften, privately, in and fall in love with him until your ears turned red, the petals of roses. A realm between an ordinary employee and her boss. Between the walls of unknowing people—the way he would lean in to hear you talk because in comparison to his large stature and broad proportions, made even more prominent by his short hair, you were a mere stone on the ground, an ametrine—split in half with a tendril of yellow—but a stone regardless, fearing the tip of his lacquered dress shoes stomping on you until you’re left crumbled in the dying grass, the jagged pieces of you consoled by the ruthless wind.

You were terribly afraid of him. Briefly, but ardently. A true personification of desire, whenever you had to look up into his eyes. Whenever a whiff of his oriental cologne tickled your nostrils. Whenever the allure of secrecy between you two heightened. All because he was a powerful man, on the cusp of saving you from the lowest of the dirt. Saving you and digging you back inside, left to your own decay. 

Left to. That’s the wisp of tendency in your relationship. The wisp of force that drove you to give your yes to him. The wisp of the engagement ring encased around the fourth finger on your left hand. Left to—because you’d been single for so long and your mother pined after grandchildren and Namjoon was there, a knight in shining armor, dressed in suit and tie underneath, at the very age and position to settle down. Left to—because the special attention he gave you grazed your fear of him, gently, and helped it blossom into a bush of hyacinths growing in your lungs.

It’s how you found out you were in a severe destitute of a fatherly figure in your life.

Because Namjoon paid your bills. Put food on your mother’s table. In the form of a generous paycheck, overtime pay—even though you always clocked out at five, and odd bonuses that rose in monetary value the more he spent time with you. You’ve told him to stop, asked for fairness among his employees, even though nobody liked you there and would do quite the opposite if they ever happened to be in your shoes. But Namjoon never agreed to your offer. No, he stroked your hair and told you to save that money for your mother. And because you never heard that come out of man’s mouth, you nodded, meekly. Listened. The fear of him stroking the violet petals of hyacinths in you because as of now, he owned you. Owned your life. Owned the comfort of your mother. 

All because you made the faux pas and took off your heels when you thought your presentation was done and nobody answered when you asked if anyone had any questions left. Except for that one employee who didn’t have, evidently, a sense of decency and suddenly remembered he had a groundbreaking question to ask you in regards to the matter of your presentation, when everyone else, including Namjoon, was gathering their possessions and rising to their feet. 

He had noticed your nylon-clad feet, your swollen little toes, the way you rolled the ball of your foot on the carpet to alleviate yourself of the pain. And he changed the decades-old policy of dress code the next day. Forbade all women to wear high heels. Flat shoes only—loafers, ballet shoes. Incorporated bonuses that appeared in their bank accounts that very day, demanding an instant payment. 

He paid for every woman’s shoes in his company, including you. 

You never had to go through the torment of wearing heels again, no matter how pretty they seemed to you.

And then it was easy—languid and smooth, the innocent eye contact from across the room, the constant attention, the brushing of hands when walking past each other. And then you ran into him everywhere. He was always alone, which caused you to suspect he was single, so you smiled a little more and found it the easiest thing in the world, conversing with him about everything and nothing. Put a lot more care into the clothes you wore and the daily choice of your perfumes. Not forcing yourself and not being in control of it at the same time, something in the very middle. Something so natural that allowed you to turn your brain off for a moment and let yourself be led by your instincts. 

Then, your mother got sick and you lost your smile. Spent all your free time with her, taking care of her and you never ran into Namjoon again. 

Which is why he began to call you into his office behind the pretense that he needs something from you. And perhaps he did. He needed to be a friend for you. And you needed it just the same. 

He helped you cope with the gravity of a burden regarding a sickly parent and you became his.

And you gave more of yourself to him with every fleeting touch, every secret invitation to his office in broad daylight when he had meetings to attend to but wanted to get to know you instead, get to know your dreams because he has the money and the power to make them come true. Tenderly, despite the potency, the violence of his instrument. And tenderly, he always treated you. Tenderly, he held you steady as you made it a regular thing between you and him to sit on his lap. Not straddling him, but sideways—like a little girl sitting on the lap of her father. Tenderly, he led you through new parts of your life with poetic advice and viewpoints, meeting you outside of work, intertwining his fingers with yours and reassuring you. And tenderly, he became the stable male figure you invariably needed and never knew you did. 

And tenderness is what you need right now. In this shadowed hotel room, with only your arms to wrap around your torso and a ring on your left fourth finger, a ghost of his presence, ever so lingering, but not quite here. And you clutch at your dress, scrape your fingernails along the side of your ribs, etching the words that he said to your slowly awakening form in the late afternoon before he left. 

“I won’t be long. I just have some business to attend to. I’ll be back in an hour.”

It has been more than an hour and you wonder if he’s going to miss the twinkling of the tower. It’s your first night here. You had dinner after you landed, napped, didn’t even walk around the poetry-woven city and Namjoon chose his work. You showered for him, wore the long black dress you saved up the little of your last two paychecks for and he’s not here to see it. 

You feel so betrayed. He found work in your spare time, the time saved only for you both, the time that should’ve been saved for the romance part of your relationship. All he knows is work and so do you—as the entirety of your hours spent together have been solely work-related. This vacation should have been anything but. 

You sigh, hand ready at the zipper at the back of your dress. Once he comes home, he’ll be tired. Too tired to take a walk and immerse himself in the European beauty, so you should save this dress for a better occasion, one which he’s present for. Whenever that is. If that ever comes, at all. 

The squeak of the zipper going down is interrupted when you hear the lock make a sing-song melody, a signal that someone is coming in. Your breath quivers. A twist of events you didn’t expect, but you don’t get your hopes up. You know your fiancé well enough not to expect him to be full of life and elation after a work meeting. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, but you let it slide past every time, aware that if he didn’t work so hard, your mother wouldn’t have the comfort she has. And neither would you. 

That doesn’t mean you’ll let it slide past this time. Not when he reserved his special time for you, for you both. 

Namjoon emerges out of the soft-toned yellow hall with a hand behind his back. You rise from the bed, facing him. Notice his sagged, broad shoulders, the sweat that lines his forehead and the narrow thin line that his lips are pursed in. A petulant, gray aura swathes him, despite the vibrancy of the colors of the hotel room and when he comes in, it’s almost like he absorbs them. His brows quirk at the sight of you, nearly relieved to see you dressed and waiting for him, but that expression falters once he takes in the mirror of you. The same wrinkle on your forehead stamps itself onto his and the sag of his coat-clad shoulders deepens. He stops at the edge of the bed, in front of you. Remains silent. And when you give him a few more seconds to speak and he doesn’t, your fists clench at your sides, against the linen puffiness of your dress. 

“An hour, huh?” 

He sighs and lowers his gaze. But not onto the ground. No, he lowers it onto your dress, swallowing dryly at the accentuation of your waist and the bunched up fabric at the hips cascading down, clothing you in the prosaic night of Paris, not the poetic, not the lively. He missed it. 

“You look so beautiful in this dress,” Namjoon comments and you scoff. If that’s his way of apologizing for leaving you for almost four hours, you don’t really understand it. It merely adds fuel to the flames of the indignation underneath that fucking dress. 

“Do you know what time it is?” you bite, your fingers instinctively grabbing onto the fabric of your garment for some kind of stability as your blood boils. Abruptly, his eyes flick to the window and when you follow his gaze, you discover the tower dressed similarly as you. Shrouded, entirely, in the night, clouds drifting past in place of the twinkles. Your blood is scorching hot and even though you didn’t expect him to take you to it, your stomach still drops at the disappointment that you missed the thing you looked forward to for weeks, knowing it won’t be the same tomorrow or the day after that. Your eyes prick with tears and you hate them. Don’t want to cry. Don’t want to be a spoiled brat, in fact. Not when you grew up the way you did—dreamless, poor and independent. But you can’t stop the words from rushing out. “I can see you wearing that watch that costs more than the house I grew up in and I know your habit of checking the time often, so tell me. Why didn’t you text me? Why didn’t you pick up my calls? Why did you bring me here in the first place if you knew you had business?” 

Mouth ends rounding ever so slightly, at last he shows what he’s been hiding behind his back. A bouquet of fresh, violet chrysanthemums and baby’s breath of the same muted tones. A symbol of thoughtfulness and care. The oxymoron makes you seethe and you grit your teeth. 

“I ran around the city trying to find one flower shop that was still open. I bought the first flowers that reminded me of you.” He pushes them your way, trying to get you to take them and you do, the wrapper rustling as your hands touch and electricity zaps you. Damn it. “Purple, your favorite color.” 

The audacity this man has, walking over that one word of apology, avoiding it. He takes your anger to another level and the fact that it seems to be endless makes you even angrier. Enough to want to hit him with the flowers. 

And you do. 

The flowers hover in the air in slow motion before their petals scatter around his troubled shoulders and the ruffled bed, where you sat so restlessly. Namjoon raises his arms in defense and you don’t stop, not until he grabs your arms and stills you. 

He calls you by your name, his hold on you deathly, and he shakes you, just once, in effort to bring some sense into you. “Calm down.” 

The stems from the chrysanthemums lay crooked on the floor between your bare feet and his black dress shoes. Ruined, devastated. Just like your dream. Some snapped in half, never to be whole again. Just like your heart. 

“You think some flowers are gonna bring my dream back, huh?” you snap, raising your voice, quivering in his grasp. You push at his chest, trying to get out of his clutches, but to no avail. You remain firm and unmoving in his hold. He doesn’t even budge. And once again you feel like a stone—an amethyst this time. Bigger, stronger, yet it still pales in comparison to the mountain that Namjoon is. You give very little fuck about that, however. “You knew it was my dream to see the Eiffel Tower at night. You brought me here knowing that, so I’m asking you once again why. Why did you bring me here when you knew you weren’t gonna make that dream come true for me?” 

He sucks in a breath and it looks as though he’s hanging by the edge of his composure. A thick vein bulges on his forehead and he clenches his jaw, his mouth a small button on his face. Anger. A mirror of you. But it’s not directed towards you—not at all. 

Namjoon withdraws and steps away, taking off his coat and his jacket, slinging his outerwear onto the edge of the bed. And as you simmer in the middle of the tense silence, he casually rolls his sleeves upwards, focusing his gaze, momentarily, on the action before he bores it into yours. The other sleeve gets the same treatment meanwhile he keeps the boiling temperature of your fury at a fixed degree with that stare. You want to boil over and so does he, but he doesn’t let that happen. 

The tiniest wisp of lust curls in your bloodstream, steamed by the heat, creating something dangerous. Oh, he’s playing with fire and he shouldn’t. 

All forest fires end catastrophically. The ruined flowers are enough proof of that, and yet it’s just the beginning. 

Namjoon loosens his tie a little bit, tipping his chin, and you can’t help but to ogle the slender material, his long fingers as they hook over the knot and pull it down. They way he’s asserting his dominance—the way he’s making you wait, making you tremble all fucking over by the silence and the slowness of his motions, by his stance and the clenched jaw. You hate the way it’s working; hate, with all your crumbling, stony being the pressure of your craving to get on your knees. 

Your tremor causes your fallen strap to tickle your arm and it snaps you out of the indecent daze, head swiveling to it, hand fixing it right away. You tug your dress down so it doesn’t slip down again, your plunging sweetheart neckline exposing your full breasts. 

“Why don’t you ask me what the business was about?” Namjoon challenges and it causes your head to swivel back to him, facing him. He’s sunk his hands into the pockets of his black dress pants, anticipation and tension hanging heavily in the stuffed air. 

You raise your brows. Fuck if you care about it. “Do I look like I give a fuck? I don’t wanna hear it.” 

Namjoon drops his gaze onto the ground, the clench of his jaw tightening enough that a dimple appears on the side of his cheek. For some reason you can’t really explain it aches and you don’t want to look at him anymore. You edge around him, the soles of your feet stepping on the violet petals and when you’re side by side, he stops you with one hand. 

“You’re gonna want to hear this,” he murmurs, his hold on you softening once your movement is halted. 

You roll your eyes, untangling your arm from it. “Too bad I don’t.” 

Namjoon sighs, deeply. “I’m telling you this one last time. You’re gonna sit on this fucking bed like the nice girl I know you are and you’re gonna listen to me.” 

A pulse sneaks to your sensitive parts and you furrow your brows, not liking the words he chose, not liking the way they made you feel. A half of you is torn, though. A half of you forces your body to do as he says, liking it very much. Too fucking much. “You don’t get to talk to me like this. It’s unfair.” 

“Sit.” 

That half of you wins. That easily. 

You sit on the bed and cross your leg over the knee, obnoxiously dangling your shin back and forth. The hem of your dress flutters, gains momentum when Namjoon opens the balcony door, letting the winter air in. Then, he moves over to stand a foot away from you, the stems crunching beneath his feet, his hand fishing out his pack of cigarettes and pulling one out, popping it into his mouth. Yellow, almost brownish butt. Golden Marlboros. Typical. 

Your own parts in dismay. “You’re gonna set the fire alarm off.” 

“You’re gonna get rained on, then. Look pretty in that soaking dress with the petals and all.” He lights up his addiction and the flow of your fire changes its course. Burns differently now. Burns lustfully. “You think I didn’t tell them to turn it off when we arrived? You were too sleepy. Barely knew where we were.” 

Flying while drifting through dreamland does that to you. Why it is a surprise to you that Mr. President made such a demand is beyond you. What’s more, it annoys you. His power, his influence. While it once sparked fear, you’re glad it’s lukewarm to you now. 

Sucking deeply, he puffs out the smoke, its tendrils curling around his eyes that he narrows to protect them from the sting. Your fingers, instinctively, play with your engagement ring. You’ve always loved the way he smoked. Especially in his office. Especially the way it never smelled. His attention to detail, his thoughtfulness perpetually mesmerized you. You wonder where it’s gone at the cusp of the realization of your dream. 

“I fought tooth and nail to get a deal. To make a connection. For you.” 

You scowl at him, pull your wandering fingers away from your engagement ring. What the fuck does he mean by that? 

“For me?” 

“Yes, for you. For your mother.” 

You grip the edge of the mattress at the mention of your mother, left behind on her sick bed while you’re fussy about your mindless dream. A jolt of guilt runs down your body and your scowl smoothens. You don’t think the madness disappears from your eyes. Not entirely. 

“I risked having some very powerful people knowing about us because I wanted you to have a stable place here. There’s a five star hotel that has shares in Korea. I wanted to become their partner. Get you in there. Get you another source of income. Get you a house here. For your mother. For our children. Have you commute here whenever you’d like,” Namjoon breathes out, moving his busy hand with each word, the smoke clouding the air. He takes a drag, holding the cigarette. “Come to think of it, you’d get to see this.” He points behind himself at the Eiffel Tower with his thumb. “For a week straight if you’d like. Splurge on dresses, shoes and croissants and whatnot. Have not one care in the world. You make the call and we fly.” 

From Korea to Paris. Whenever you’d like. Namjoon is the CEO of a five star hotel he built with his own hands. You’re the marketing manager, but you oversee almost everything you find time for. From banquets to room beddings, only because you enjoy it. It’s the main reason why you’re so disliked. You’re favored. And if there’s conflict of interest, there’s only one person who wins in the eyes and the final say of the CEO.

Namjoon’s hidden thoughtfulness opens in the shadows of the room and you’re stupefied. 

He wanted to partner with another five star hotel in Paris. 

For you. For your mother. For your future. For your comfort. 

For your dream. 

For your children. 

Your mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. 

How would you possibly handle having your job times two? You already have enough on your plate. Have wished, multiple times, that there was more of you cloned, who could do each job that you have to do each day. Doing that twice would be difficult, agonizingly so, but knowing your own work ethic, you’d make it manageable. You’d make do. Not for yourself, per say—but for your mother and your future children. 

Your heart constricts. Constricts so tightly that you let out a pained breath, overcome by his plan for the future, by the actions he’s willing to do for it. By the very raw fact that he spent three hours trying to make that happen—make that come true for you. 

“Namjoon, I—”

“They said no, though. No matter how hard I pushed, no matter what I was willing to risk, to sacrifice. They said no. So I made a quick phone call and forbade them from ever entering our hotel.” 

Our hotel. 

You almost sob, touched by him, but a gust of the icy breath of winter seizes you and you visibly shudder. Namjoon takes a last drag of his addiction and, putting it out on the ashtray on the confined balcony, he closes its door. But the freshness grazes you still, grazes you with the allure of this too-good-to-be-true fantasy and while it feels nice momentarily—the futile, brand new dream—you settle on the contentment that it will never come true. 

And that’s okay. You were brought up having nothing. Having someone like Namjoon intertwined with your future doesn’t change it. You don’t need to have everything. It’s enough that you’re in Paris just for the prolonged weekend, even though you didn’t get to see the sparkling Eiffel Tower up close on your first night here. That was the only dream you ever had and you can die peacefully now. Knowing the reason behind his late arrival, it doesn’t disappoint you anymore that your dream was altered. As a matter of fact, you don’t consider it ruined any longer. Not when Namjoon tried his hardest to create a beautiful future for you and your closest. You regret being mad at him, regret hitting him with the flowers and you brim with the wish to gather them, fix them, and put the little what’s left of them in a vase. Cherish them like he cherishes you. Cherish him. 

Namjoon crouches at your feet, cradling your ankle. “Your mom would’ve had a house right next to ours. Our kids would visit her everyday and vice versa. The air would’ve done her good here. The change of scenery. It would’ve prolonged her life. She’d be happy.” 

You nod, believing him, your heart untouched by the weakening fire, tender, squeezing. A mist of liquid emotion pools at your eyes. “You spent three hours trying to make that become a reality.” 

It’s not a question, but rather an expression of your procession of his goodness. Of his selflessness. And all over again, you’re reminded of the way you grew close in your relation because of your poor mother, of the way you bonded. And in place of the fire, it’s love that blooms those hyacinths in your lungs back to life. 

Your mother would’ve loved Paris. Because you know how much she loved listening to you talk about your dream when she was healthy and you were a young schoolgirl, you’re certain she would’ve fallen in love with the stark difference that lines these history-wrought streets. 

Namjoon focuses his gaze on your bare foot, fondling his thumbs over your silky skin. Your declaration of his actions loosened the heft on his shoulders and he relaxes, leaning his temple against your knee, fleetingly. When he speaks, he looks up at you. A certain light, covered in pity, flickers in his eyes. “I didn’t do it on purpose. It just took that long and I had no idea. And when I checked the time once it was over, I googled when they turn off the lights. Knew I had some time to spare, so to fix my mistake for taking so long, I ran through these streets, trying to make it up to you. I thought I’d make it in time, but you let out your frustration on me, which is understandable. I was in such a hurry that I forgot to text you. I’m sorry.” 

The coolness of the growing flower buds in you fills you with such gentleness that it’s not relief that you feel upon hearing his explanation and apology. It’s love. A profound, sinking capacity of love for the man beneath you taking on the likeness of the stone that certain energies and events of life invariably minimalized you into. 

He’s the stone and you’re the mountain. 

And when you bolster his face in your hands, Namjoon releases a breath at the touch and you find that relief streaming in him, seeping color back into his cheeks. You’ll paint them redder. Feel obligated to do so. 

“I’m sorry for hitting you. You left me alone for so long and I had so many bad thoughts,” you say, internally cringing at your neediness and you would regret uttering your admission had he not rubbed your legs in such a reassuring manner that it revitalizes your body, guiding briskness into your veins. 

“I’m sorry that I missed it,” Namjoon says, subduedly, his hands warm like the fire that burned in you, giving you back your heat that you’re lacking. He kisses the top of your knee and your breath is but a vine of poison ivy inside your throat. Such tenderness, such healing gentleness, such pity that permeates your skin. He truly is regretful that he messed up and you want to weep. He doesn’t have to be, not anymore. “What kinda bad thoughts?” 

You feel your heart rotate on its axis and you stifle back your tears, taking a deep breath to be able to talk. “I thought you chose work over me. Thought your business had nothing to do with me. Thought you left me here all alone for selfish reasons.” 

Namjoon coos, a softened emotion screwing his face—eyes enlarging and a slight pout forming on his face. A leeway for your tears to spurt onto your cheeks, unabashedly, with nothing holding them back any longer. He cups your face, like you did, and he sweeps back that rivulet with his thumb. “I didn’t, baby. I didn’t. And I’m here. I’m here with you.” 

You nod and it’s all that you’re left to do because it’s the truth. He’s here. He’s come back. And he’s sorrowful that he let those thoughts plague your brain with such a small mistake. 

“Don’t go anywhere again,” you beg, hushedly, your voice breaking. “I’m sorry you worked so hard for nothing.” 

It’s the last straw for Namjoon because he straightens his form, guides you to stand up and he sets you down on his lap, pushing your legs onto the bed—holding you as if he were holding a child. 

And that’s precisely what you need at the moment. 

“It’s not over. Pick a place and we’ll go there. Start over. With you present this time. What are you dreaming of these days?” 

Your heart swells. Nothing has been flooding your dreamland as much as Paris was. Even that seemed unrealistic, let alone a much different place. It overcomes you and, peculiarly, stops you from crying. You feel like a spoiled girl getting what she wanted after she had a meltdown and, internally, you blame Namjoon for it. He spoils you. Exudes such overtones of fatherliness that makes a way for it to happen. Most naturally. 

“Paris has always been my dream. No other city,” you say and Namjoon clicks his tongue. A smile widens your mouth, liking the way he senses your custom of modesty, liking the way he dislikes it. You laugh, softly, through your nose. “I’ll think of something.” 

“That’s my nice girl.” 

Taken aback, you clutch the side of his neck. Namjoon is bathed in the orange light and it no longer causes bile to lodge in your esophagus. No, it sparks up something else. Something very rapid, spreading throughout your body. The energy shifts and it’s you who clicks their tongue. “What did I tell you about talking to me like that?” 

You move your hand to the middle of his throat, tightening your hold around his Adam’s apple, tipping his chin. Namjoon grins, hums, wraps his fingers around your wrist. 

“What did I tell you about choking me, hm?” 

A flashback flickers across your vision. One of the last time you were intimate in bed and he was rocking your shit in missionary, using your throat as a leverage. You mirrored him, as you usually do in these endeavors, and choked the air out of him, making him come prematurely. Namjoon scolded you until your ears turned red and refused to make you come. You had to bring yourself over that edge and you managed to squirt your love and your enjoyment of fucking with him all over his body. Namjoon made sure to feed you your elated essence, but he also made it very hard for you to swallow, telling you to hold it as he drilled your throat, making it trickle down the corners of your mouth. 

The memory effortlessly brings back the pulse in your sensitive parts and you begin to crave the repetition of that filthy rendezvous. Badly. 

And so you squeeze his throat. 

Namjoon squeaks your name. You laugh, ferally. 

That is until he pins you down. Hand on your throat this time, the other holding down both of your wrist, the petals sticking to the silk of his pants-clad knees on either side of you. You didn’t even catch the movement as he did it, his strength overbearing and so incomparable to yours. But you don’t feel like the amethyst. No, you feel like a mountain connected to another, to him. Two peaks staring at each other, grinning, your laughter unfaltering, even though it’s you who’s squeaking now. 

Elated, giddy, aroused, equal, your tears sunk deeply within your skin, giving life to your rhapsody, giving it the body it needs in order to come out. 

You love it when he’s like this. And you love that he’s come back to you. 

Of course you have the means to prolong it, to tease it out of him.

“I don’t really care when it turns me on this much,” you rasp, your smile glinting in the dimmed light, arching your back until your chest kisses his. Just once. “When it turns you on this much.” 

Truth, the epitome of pleasure. The corners of your mouth widen, all over again. 

You can’t help it. 

Namjoon cocks a brow, his mouth ends following the same directions, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. “Oh, so you don’t need to be reminded?” He mimics your intonation, angling his head.

You shake yours, eyes dipping to his clefts, teeth instinctively finding your bottom lip, biting down. You feel the heaviness of his stare and it urges you to bite down harder, the tension quickening your blood circulation. And it isn’t until you meet his adoring gaze that it stops, for a mere second, scattering tingles down every vein. And Namjoon resumes the flow by pressing a chaste kiss down onto your lips, lingering there. 

“I know you’re a nice girl and that you didn’t mean it, but I have to spank you for it, anyway. Do you understand?” He whispers against those pillows, each movement of his mouth brushing against yours, making you needy for more. 

You make a face. “But I did mean it. Meant it with everything in me.” 

Namjoon laughs, endearingly. “No, you didn’t, baby. Not when you know what I’m capable of doing to you. Or not doing to you.” 

You smirk, catching onto his game. He’ll disagree until you grow so frustrated that you burst, disobeying him to the point that he has to tame you. He wants to get you to the lowest point, because the lower you dig, the bigger treasure you find—the more you stimulate the brain, the chemistry, the bigger the pleasure. Namjoon is an intelligent man; knows what the fuck he’s doing and you’re so transfixed by it that you’ll let yourself be led into his little trap that he watches over. Just to please him because ultimately, you’ll be pleased beyond measure. 

You tip your chin and trace his lips with your own. “No, I did, because I love how whiny you get. Makes me wanna bruise my knees for you, take all of you down my throat until it hurts to speak.” 

Namjoon is so awestruck by your words that his mouth parts as he gawks down at you and he moans. There it is. That’s precisely what you wanted. 

“You know,” he starts, pausing to swallow. “I had different plans with you in terms of this. Good fucking plans. But you just ruined them.” 

The precipice of what that could be hangs over your clavicles and suddenly you brim with the need to know what it was. What his smart, business brain came up with. And not only that—you want it to happen, your curiosity piqued, blaming the choice of words he used, the work-tinged colors he splattered them with. 

“What plans?” 

He straightens, setting your hands free. “Take off your dress.” 

You’re taken aback. “Namjoon.” You stress his name. “What plans?” 

“No, I’m not telling you. You’re gonna take off this dress and you’re gonna take what I give you.” 

You frown. Your curiosity won’t let up. “Namjoon, please.” 

The pretty word curls his mouth. Perhaps, you’ve softened his stubbornness. You surely hope so, but to no avail. 

He gets on his feet and swivels you onto your stomach, fingers finding your zipper and dragging it down. Being manhandled like this causes butterflies to swarm not just in your tummy, but over your arms and legs as well, fluttering all over, making your head spin and again, you can’t help the smile blossoming. In the middle of winter, spring opens in you at the touch of his dominance. 

Spreading his hands over your back, sinking his warmth beneath the skin, he leans in, mouth at your ear. “What word do you use when you say please?” 

You know what he wants you to say, but, peculiarly, you’re in such a good mood that you crave to disobey. Just for the fun of it. Just for the pain of it. 

“Pretty please?” you chirp, pursing your lips to hide the slyness of your smile. Delighted, excited. 

Namjoon pulls your hair, causing your head to tip, harshly, pain shooting up your scalp. Your tongue runs over your bottom lip, moaning almost soundlessly, only to realize that he can see you. Your pleasure wasn’t private. Not at all. Never is when he’s involved. 

You flick your eyes up at him, meeting his darkened stare, and you flutter your lashes at him, playing the stupid girl when you’re well educated by him in reality. 

Maybe you do need to be reminded, after all. Again, for the fun of it. For the pain of it. 

To distract him from his failure. Help him forget. You know how it gets to him. Deem he deserves it; deem it’s a duty of your fiancée privileges. 

“Pretty please is an addition. Something to help me have a sliver of pity for you. You seem to have forgotten who I am to you.” 

Oh, he’s a myriad of things. 

Mountain. Stability. Dependability. A most grand picture of beauty. Of intelligence. The sun and the moon, his brain cells the planets in the universe. The second heart you’ve grown over the trajectory of your relationship. The pulse of your emotions, especially the one between your legs.

He’s everything in your life while you remain your own person.

And only Namjoon would have achieved something like that. 

“No, I haven’t. You’re my husband,” you say, allure dripping in your tone, wiggling your hips, causing the fabric of your dress to ripple over your bum. 

Namjoon coos, quite pleased with the title, and he pats your behind before he grabs you by your waist and pulls you to your feet—flush against his body and the rock solid situation in his pants. You sway your hips, the gasp that slips out of your mouth goes almost unnoticed by you as you’re entirely focused on his hardness. You look down to follow the movement of his hands like a cat. They drift upwards—from your ribs, over the swell of your breasts until his long fingers reach the straps of your dress and drag them down, exposing you, exposing your arousal evident on your stiffened nipples. You could blame the cool temperature hanging in the room for it, but both of you know that would be a lie. A fat lie that your husband doesn’t deserve, not when he’s so dominant, so strict and so fucking provocative, spreading tendrils of heated life in you with each subtle touch. 

Subtle? Oh, Namjoon gropes your tits, rolling your nubs between his slender fingers, softly moaning behind you. And then he pinches them, coaxing your squeaks out and you feel that familiar, wet warmth pooling in your core, mingling with the throbbing sensation that intoxicates you. Enough for you to clasp your hands over his and tighten his hold, squirming against him, loving—loving terribly the sparks of pleasure coursing down your figure. Loving the feeling of dampness against your panties that’s nothing but evidence of the way your body savors his special attention. 

“Husband, that’s right. Your fucking husband,” Namjoon murmurs, pressing a kiss just beneath your ear, causing your head to knock back against his chest and make space for him, inviting him to continue—and he does. Places tiny little kisses down to your shoulder, where he licks the skin before he sucks it into his mouth. “But there’s something else you call me when I treat you this good. What is it? Think.” 

Those kisses and his command for the wheels in your mind to quicken alone make you give in, make you submit to his craving to call you by that filthy, rightful title. Even more so when he pinches your nipples again. You whine, feeling your neediness for more taking greater highs in your system, feeling your own body yearning to scream out that name. 

“Daddy,” you cry out, desperately, awfully. How well it fits him, how well he deserves to be called by something like that—how gratified you sense your body to be right now. No poetic string of verses could ever manage to do it justice. 

Namjoon hums, his pleasure deepening. “That’s it. That’s a good girl. I love it when you use that brain of yours.” 

You blush. A tableau unseen by Namjoon yet, for he busies himself with undressing you. Your garment gets plopped onto the mattress, your underwear along with it. A silky strip that hardly covers anything. You’re bare while he remains fully dressed and something about that turns you wild. The silkiness of his slacks, the cotton of his white shirt against your skin—such softness, such balminess, such caress for the undomesticated freedom that you profoundly feel within. You sigh at the sensation, your lingering curiosity bubbling in you, slowly rising to the tip of your tongue. 

“Will you tell me now? What you planned?” 

Namjoon chuckles, humorlessly. “You think you’ve earned it? No, baby.” He runs his hand down your ribs and your tummy, halting at your mound. His middle finger can nearly reach your swollenness and you quiver in response. “You’ve got spanks to take first. Maybe then I’ll tell you.” 

You whine, softly, and Namjoon grabs your chin and turns your head so you can look at him. A mad, mad smile adorns his shadowed, taut face and you realize there’s pent-up frustration still swirling in him. One you will do anything to help him steam off. 

Anything. 

Anything for your husband. 

And so, by your own whim, you lay down onto the bed, anticipating the pleasure of pain. Namjoon lets out a sound of approval and you sense the vibrations of his nearness as he props a knee on the bedding, flattening down a violet petal. He fixes your position, lifts your bum in the air, and he kisses your bare cheek with all the world’s affection, sucking the skin, nibbling on it before smoothing the pain with a swipe of his tongue. 

“You’re my nice girl, aren’t you?” Namjoon questions and you nod, but that’s not good enough of an answer for him. He spanks you, harshly, coaxing a hiss out of you before the pleasure draws in and you let out a breath, turning your head, so you can have a perfect view of him. Namjoon gives you another chance to fix your mistake. “Aren’t you?”

Licking your lips, you make it your focal point to be good for him. “I’m your nice girl.” 

Humming, he caresses your back to praise you. Spanks you with the same tenderness, rubbing the flesh to alleviate the faint sting. The love you carry for him grows with each brush of his calloused hand and you stifle back your needy sounds, your little whines and sobs of a small girl very seldom loved by an even smaller number of male figures in her life. 

Most strangely, it heightens the experience. 

“You’re my wife, aren’t you?” Namjoon purrs, his fingers sneaking to the place that yearns for him more than anywhere else, finding you bedewed, dripping as he rubs your folds—just touching you there without giving you any friction. 

The touch is so nice that you can’t help but mewl most happily. 

“Yes, I’m your wife, Daddy.” 

Namjoon moans, the pads of his fingers sneaking over to your clit and stroking it. You arch your back, your noises rising in volume—the wetness, the pleasure in tandem. Your body begins to shudder in reaction, mimicking his motions, the pressure coiling in the lowest of your tummy. 

“Good, good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. You’re my good little wife, but you were bad, weren’t you? You were a bad little wife?” 

He quickens his speed, testing your focus and your mind spins again as the pressure deepens. From his words, from the very gravity of the title ‘wife’, from the very pleasure stemming from the principle of being bad, and you stutter a few times before you’re able to get out the full sentence in a perfect flow. 

“I was your bad little wife.” 

Namjoon growls, liking it just the same. “And what did you do?” 

He slows down, stalling your climax, keeping you halfway from the edge, right where he wants—the pressure of his touch light and gentle. Letting you work your brain. 

You smile up at him, from the clouds of shadows and petals you’re surrounded by. Namjoon deepens the eye contact, returning the smile. Your heart thuds in your chest. 

“I choked you.” 

Clefts of dimples—you, yourself, choke out a breath. Another one, too, when Namjoon spanks you hard, his fingers wet and sticky on your skin, the pain tingling all over your body, beckoning out more of your slick for him. 

“That’s right, you choked me, even though I punished you for it quite severely the last time,” he rasps and spanks you again, again and again. You hiss and flatten your lips to stifle it back, grasping the bed sheets to overcome that burn—and overcome your craving for more. 

You’re at a crossroad. You find yourself wanting to be bad in order to get spanked again, but at the same time you want to be good, so he tells you what he planned for you. Your fucked out brain can’t decide which side is better, but when Namjoon spanks you again—he reminds you that it doesn’t matter at all. You’re getting punished either way while the goal is to tell you. 

Such a good, intelligent husband. And you tell him. 

“You’re so good to me, baby,” you whisper, your knuckles white as you’re grasping the sheets with all your might. “I’m sorry for being bad. I’m sorry for choking you, but I love it when you spank me.” 

Namjoon chuckles, warmly, spanking your clit once in affection, drawing out your squeaks. 

Truth, the epitome of pleasure. All over again. 

Close to your ear now, he kisses your cheek, his body heat enveloping you in an embrace. “My naughty little wifey loves it when Daddy punishes her. Loves to do the bad things Daddy doesn’t like just so he spanks her. That’s it, isn’t it?” 

You moan out, puckering your lips against the sheets and Namjoon half-kisses your pout, humming against you. He lifts you up onto your knees with your torso upright and he cradles your face. Waits for your answer. 

You’re more than happy to douse yourself in that truth. 

“Yeah, I love it. I love being bad for you.” 

He descends one hand to your bum while the other wraps around your waist and pulls you flush to the hardness of his body. And as he expresses to you how much he liked your words with guttural moans, he spanks you. Again and again, your head tipped back, eyes wandering in the darkened maze of his, where you lose count of how many you’ve taken. 

“But you do realize that’s a big no-no, don’t you?” 

You nod. “I do, Daddy.” 

A hum. “Will you do it again?” 

You whisk your irises up, thinking about it while already knowing the answer in your heart. “Probably.” 

Namjoon laughs and kisses you, feverishly. Moves his mouth against yours, parts it, so he can slip his tongue inside. Plays a game of chase while both of your noises and his interlock and create a music that echoes around the hotel room. He adds a high-pitched tone into the song, yours, as he spanks you again, playfully this time, grabbing the flesh of your bum with both of his hands now, kneading it, drawing it closer until you feel his aroused length against your tummy. 

Moans, squeaks, skin slapping and lip smacking. A song of beauty that will resonate within your body, mind and soul for days to come. 

And another thing. 

“God, I love you so much,” Namjoon whispers, bringing his hands to your ribs until his thumbs brush across your nipples. 

That, too, will ring in your veins. 

You melt. Become nothing but liquid devotion in his hands. And as he begins to focus on your neck, you roll your eyes back and resound your love back to him. 

“I love you, Namjoon.” 

He sighs against your collarbone, mutedly. “You love me?” 

You sink your fingers into his short hair, kissing his temple. “I love you so fucking much.” 

When he emerges with puffy, reddened lips, you can see it on his face that he did it again. Made you say the words he wanted to hear. And so you say it again, again and again. Each time with more intensity, with more verve, embedding it into his lips, his cheeks, jawline, his chin and his neck. All skin you can reach until you stumble upon the cotton of his shirt, at which you frown. 

“Take this off. Now.” 

And he listens. Loosens his tie, places it upon the petals on the bedding. Begins to unbutton his shirt. All while staring you down. And all you can do is watch him in awe, licking your lips, hungry for him, hungry for the intelligent plan he’s keeping from you. 

Once he bends at the waist to get his arms out of the sleeves, you press on the matter. 

“Tell me,” you say, softly, despite the tension of your curiosity. “Tell me what you planned.” 

Namjoon tilts his head and light flickers across his eyes, fires of stars—the ones that twinkled on the Eiffel Tower before his arrival. You spent your entire life dreaming about seeing it when it stands right in front of you, half naked. Has been standing before your eyes for years. 

Your mouth parts at the tenderness of it all and emotion bubbles within you. 

Sizzles, ferociously, when Namjoon reveals his secret. 

“Speeding down the road to this hotel, I saw it before my eyes. What I was going to do to you,” he starts, unbuckling his belt and sliding it off the loops. Your heart thumps, violently, against your ribcage, longing to jump onto his big palms. He pauses his motions to concentrate on his words. “I was going to apologize. Tell you what happened. And then I was going to make it up to you. Undress you, keep only the shoes on you were going to wear.” He looks over to the side, where your black YSL heels have been waiting for hours to be worn. Before he even asks if those were the ones, you nod your head and Namjoon fetches them and puts them on your feet. “I was going to have these digging into my back while I ate you out. While I would transfer us to the park before the Eiffel Tower with my words.” Securing the straps, he straightens, knees on either side of yours, and grabs his tie, smoothing it out with his thumbs. “I was going to blindfold you. Make you imagine you were there with me. No one else but us. On a blanket. Describe to you in great detail what we were doing as I’d be balls deep in you. Here but there at the same time.” 

Your throat dries as you take in his words and there’s only a few words you’re capable of saying. Your eyes flick to the tie, then back up to his dark chocolate irises, wet with a glint of deep arousal, one that you feel pulsing in you just as well. You hook your arms on his hips and nod at the slender fabric in his grasp.

A man of the world’s intelligence. How attractive, how alluring. Your shadowed cloud swathes you tighter and you spill with the need to be fucked. Fucked with that smartness. That capability. All wrapped around that big cock of his. 

You need it. Won’t live if he doesn’t ruin you with it. 

“Do it,” you choke out, swallowing with great difficulty. “Please.” 

Fingers curling around his belt loops, it doesn’t go unnoticed the way his manhood twitches in the tight confines of his slacks and the sound you let out at the sight would be embarrassing if he wasn’t so endeared by it, caressing your face with his thumb, lifting it so you pay attention to what he wants to say to you. 

“Are you comfortable with me blindfolding you? We’ve never done that before.” 

Even though your trust wavered merely an hour ago, it happened so it would get strengthened at this very moment. You don’t detect any no’s echoing within you, any worries or fears, anything that would cause you to stand in the way of this endeavor unfolding. It excites you, the newness, the principle of placing not just your trust, but your control, your senses and your safety in his hands. Allowing him to proceed with his would solely mean that you deepen what you already practice in your sex life, take it to another level. And these things are of great importance to Namjoon. He never disappointed you—never failed, never missed. 

He takes care of you. Through and through. From the beginning to the end. Until you close your eyes, only to take it from the top the following morning. 

Your trust in terms of that could never waver. It’s impossible. It’s so strong, so held steadily that it would never come across your mind, even. 

And so you give him your consent. 

“Yes, I am. I’m excited to do this. I want this.” 

Namjoon strokes your hair, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. “All right, my love, but remember that we can stop anytime. I’ll take it off as soon as you say the word. Tell me you understand.” 

And along with your consent, you give him a big smile. “I understand, baby.” 

He kisses you, stealing a thousand tiny kisses more in the same lip lock. “That’s a good girl. So smart. Are you thirsty?” 

You fold your hands on your lap and nod your head. The tie slung over his broad shoulder, Namjoon walks over to the mini bar, fishes out a bottle of ice cold water and opens it for you, tipping it to your mouth, encouraging you to drink.

The coldness streaming down your stomach only enlivens your arousal and it seems as though the matter is naked to the eye as Namjoon bites his lip at the sight of you, screwing the bottle shut and placing it on the bedside table. You tug at the tie, your eyes crinkling as your smile simply can’t leave your mouth alone and Namjoon hums out a laugh at your excitement. 

“Ready?” 

Your whole figure is fluttering, of course you’re ready—and you tell him. “Born ready.” 

It prolongs his expression of lighthearted endearment. “Good. Remember to stop me when it gets too much. Close your eyes.” Obeying, the softness of the silk grazes, fondly, your eyelids as pitch-blackness encompasses you. Namjoon ties the thick wisp at the back of your head, careful not to intermingle any strands of your hair into the knot, attentive enough not to pull it too tight and not too loose either, causing you to ache for him so badly that you almost want to scream. “How does it feel?” 

Uncanny. You hear his voice and, peculiarly, it’s louder in your ears, although he’s speaking in the same volume as he was before he blindfolded you. You sense something missing from you—and it’s a feeling that you detect in the pit of your stomach and at the ends of your abruptly numb fingertips. 

You clench those digits, but the sensation remains. It is only when you raise them and bump into the sturdiness of his chest that you perceive what it truly is. 

Groundedness is what you’re missing. 

The softness of his skin brings back a sense of realness back to you. When you drift your palms up to his shoulders and hold onto them, you feel real; you feel like a person that has limbs, that has someone right there with them to look out for them because aloneness is what comes with the darkness of the sight and that is absolutely terrifying. 

You cling to his neck, causing him to stumble into you, and you sigh in relief at the feeling of his weight. He goes to lift himself up, but you stop him—tightening your headlock, pressing the side of your face against his, eating that realness as you trace your lips against his cheek, run your hand across the back of his head. 

He’s here with you and he’s not going anywhere. With that stability, you can walk further in this rendezvous because you’re not alone at all, despite the fact it’s what your eyesight is telling you. 

“It feels really strange. I need you close. I need to feel you. To know I’m not by myself,” you whisper, sensing your chest to become lighter once the truth is out. Your naivety and excitement didn’t expect this to happen, but you’re comfortable with trying this out and feel where it takes you.

“Do you want to stop?” Namjoon asks and you can identify where he roots that question on your body. Right there upon your left collarbone, where his breath seems warmer than ever before and where he begins to scatter tiny kisses. 

That thrills you—the identification of where he is, the loudness of his voice, the depth of his touch and the unusually scorching body heat he radiates as all of your other senses are heightened and you want more of it. You crave to know what it would feel like to have his tongue on your sensitive parts like this. What it would feel like to have him drilling you. 

That alone makes you shiver with something beyond excitement. With something feral and undomesticated, again. 

Another thing for him to tame. 

Your body sings to him. To the stars. To the tower. And Namjoon can hear it, incorporating his tongue into his not so chaste kisses in response. 

“No, I don’t want to stop. I want you to keep going,” you say at last, caressing the wholeness of his back, reveling in the discovery of his muscles, his shoulder blades. It feels so new, so different. You quake all over. 

Namjoon pulls himself upwards, nudges his nose against yours and you smile. “Okay, baby. I’m right here.” He kisses both of your eyelids, the right one first before the left one. You feel at one with your heart as it palpitates; feel as though you were inside your body. “Fuck, your eyelashes are so long that I can see them curled around the tie. You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

You blush, the heat of your cheeks akin to a blanket pulled to your nose. Such coziness. You hum and try to find his lips, but he’s out of reach. You crane your neck until it hurts, giving up with a huff. 

“God, don’t do that to me. That was so cute,” Namjoon husks and moans when you pull him down and kiss him at last. 

It’s at this moment that you thank the God that he mentioned for writing into the Book of Life that Namjoon was to be late and miss your dream because this kiss does more than make up for it. This kiss creates new dreams that begin to swirl within you. Dreams of the Mediterranean sea, the sand and sun rays so hot that they bronze your skin. Dreams of sultry nights, black dresses and flats for all the roads you shall walk upon while following the starlight, hand in hand with Namjoon dressed in linen of the same color. 

Dreams of Asia, but not where you first opened your eyes in as a newborn. The western side of Asia, the one you’ve never seen and never dreamed of until now. 

Your heart enlarges and you overspill with so many emotions that they trickle out of your hidden tear ducts. Newness, possibilities—for both you and Namjoon, but mainly for him. For his happiness. 

He calls your name, fearfully, but you shake your head. “What’s wrong?” 

You feel his fingers sneaking over to the knot of the tie, but you stop him. “I know where we’re going next time.” 

His breath of relief becomes the new cloud you rest upon. “You scared me. Don’t cry, baby.” 

You fondle his wrist. “Namjoon, we’re going to Turkey.” 

Silence. Then, a kiss. “Is that where you want to go?” 

A nod. That’s where your soul will escape to once you lay down to sleep. “That’s the place I’m dreaming of.” 

A kiss on your neck. A hum. “Then, that’s where we’ll go.” A stripe of his tongue down to your collarbones—you feel your slick drip down onto the bedding. “Do you remember where we are right now?” 

An inhale of breath. “Paris.” 

Namjoon sucks the supple skin above your nipple. “That’s right. We’re at the park in front of the Eiffel Tower in the middle of summer. You’re sat on my lap like this.” He manhandles you to the position he describes and you gasp, not expecting it. “My back is facing it while you have a perfect view of the twinkling lights. Can you see them?” If your memory serves you well, he’s painting a picture of reality as well and you’re so touched by it that another, secret tear rolls down your cheek. 

“Yes, they’re shining so brightly. They’re so pretty, too. You’re making my dream come true. Thank you.” 

Wetness against your sternum. Namjoon must be crying as well and the realization makes you sob. Makes you find his lips again and kiss him. 

“I love you,” Namjoon croaks out and you break, holding onto him so tightly that you clench all of your muscles. 

“I love you, Namjoon.” 

A final kiss before the continuation of his depiction of the dream. 

“Nobody is around. They’ve all gone to sleep. It’s just us, the Tower and the moon. You’re so beautiful, so lost in the pleasure as I’m kissing you like this.” He shows you by resuming leaving kisses along your breasts. “And when I do this—” He licks over your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. You whimper, flexing your eyelids at the sensation swarming in your core. “You make pretty sounds just like that, but I tell you to be quiet. We don’t wanna wake up those people and ruin the fun. And you’re so good that you listen, taking the pleasure so well.” 

He sets you down onto the bed, moves down to your tummy, placing the rest of his kisses there. 

“Then, I lay you down on the blanket. You’re naked for my eyes only and I spread your legs.” His hands follow his words, lifting your thighs and pinning them down. “I blow on your needy little pussy and you shiver so beautifully for me. I can see you shining for me, shining brighter than the lights and I give it to you.” 

There you feel it. The lick of his tongue on your clit and you shudder, moan so loudly that it reverberates down your body, the pleasure unlike any other you ever had the grace to experience. You roll your body into his mouth and Namjoon moans in tandem with you, even more so when your heel digs into his shoulder blade like he dreamed of.

“I lick your clit in circles and I feel you come alive on my tongue, so I pick up the pace.” 

You chase the movement as he does, reveling in it to the point that you curl your body, rising yourself to your elbows and grasping the nape of his neck, knocking your head back once he prods a finger into your heat. 

“I need more of it. I need to feel you around my fingers, so I stretch you out.” 

He adds another digit, fucking you diligently, and you whine out his name, squeezing his neck, your thumb pressing the spot above his Adam’s apple. 

“But my baby is doing something she knows is making my cock needy for her. She’s choking me, making me so fucking hard for her, so I pin her hands down.” 

He rips your hand from his neck and pushes it down onto the bedding, holding it in place with his forearm as he rounds an arm around your tummy, fingers spreading your folds apart from this angle, leaning his weight on it, freeing up space for his other hand to fuck you harder. 

You plop down onto the bedding, unable to resist him. And with your submission comes your orgasm, the rope uncoiling right at the place where the pulse on his wrist thumps. 

And your dreams explode across the blackness of your vision. 

“And you come like this. On my tongue. Around my fingers and I go fucking crazy for you, lick up everything you gave me. So fucking crazy that I turn you around and take you like this.” 

You’re glad for the way he worded this part because you don’t jump when he does swivel you and licks over the red marks over your bum. He prepared you. The coolness of the petals on your skin causes you to whimper and you move your hand in effort to grab one of them. Namjoon settles between the sides of your thighs and when he sees what you’ve found, he chuckles, taking it from you, turning you halfway and brushing it against your cheek. 

You gasp, liking the heightened softness, and you purr. Seeing your reaction, Namjoon drifts it down your neck, your collarbone until he reaches the peak of your breast. And when he circles that stiffened nub—an endeavor just between you, outside of the dream—your whimpers have so much tension and opulent seductiveness to them that you feel his bare manhood twitch against the line of your bum. 

It drives you to thrash your hand until you find him, too, and you wrap your hand around his thick manhood, pumping him as he stimulates your nipple like this, your position—halfway on your side, with your leg crossed, propped on the bedding, brings friction to your clit as your body moves where the pleasure wants it. 

Namjoon breathes hard, groaning gutturally, and you could almost come like this. 

“Fuck, Daddy, it feels so good,” you whine and it causes Namjoon to turn you fully onto your back and take that petal down to your wet clit. “Oh, my God.” 

Faint, yet so nice. You tremble, feeling the petal drifting over your folds, your lips, gathering your slick over your heat. And when Namjoon rubs circles on your clit with it, the membrane of the petal so fucking slippery now that it’s coated with your wetness, his title falls from your lips like the rain that keeps those flowers alive out there in Paris. 

“Keep fucking me with your wrist,” Namjoon rasps and you moan, loving to be ordered around, loving being told what to do. 

You fix your mistake of neglecting him while lost in the new delight, concentrating on his equally wet tip as you tighten your hold, pumping him swiftly, his foreskin closing around him in tandem with your movement coaxing his growls out that envelop you in firelight, hotter than anything you’ve ever felt. 

Even gripping him you perceive to be different and as that firelight flickers vastly across the night you see, splattering it with makeshift stars that Namjoon calls to creation with each of his deep sounds, your orgasm comes as an explosion that brings color to his art. 

Purples, yellows, reds and pinks. Stars that brim with colors. Such paintwork of beauty that Namjoon strums to life on your clit and your scream gets muffled by the sheets as he turns you back onto your tummy without withdrawing his hand. 

He begins to kiss your shoulder, knowing you need a minute before he can fill you up. 

“My pretty girl, my wife,” he moans against your skin, marking you there. “I’m gonna fuck you with that petal on your clit. With the rest of them clinging to your beautiful body like that. Gonna fuck you nice and hard against them.” You whimper your vulgarities, so out of it—so intoxicated by the picture, looking forward to it. “You came so well on my fingers. With the petal. Fuck, I’m gonna ruin you just for that. And for the way you made me forget where we were.” 

You laugh and your stomach flips, love hormones coursing in your veins like the strongest drug. And you laugh even harder when it dawns on you that you’ve also forgotten. 

“I don’t remember either,” you sputter between your giggles, contagious as Namjoon laughs as well, brushing your hair back to one side to kiss your cheek. 

“How are you feeling? Has it gotten too much, hm?” 

He takes the time to check up on you, instead of picking up where he left off and, fuck, you dissolve, becoming one with the petals—no edges to you, only liquid affection. 

You’ve gotten used to the darkness. No traces of fear or uneasiness can be found trickling in your system—as a matter of fact, you can’t wait to be fucked, can’t wait to find out how it’ll feel once he’s inside you. The way he’s talking to you, constantly touching you and making it known to you that he’s present with you doesn’t let the previous disturbing feeling to sidle up to you and you’re terribly, terribly grateful. 

“I feel great. I want you inside me, baby. I’m ready.” 

Namjoon growls, biting into the skin of your shoulder until you whimper, kissing the pain away. Rubs his petal-clad fingers on your clit, prolonging your noises. The pleasure begins to build up, the colors you’ve seen stacking back on top of each other and you sigh, nuzzling your face into the sheets, most comfortable. 

He cradles your jaw, though. Makes you look forward. Augments the dream, resuming. 

“You’re looking at the Tower and I’m holding you like this so your neck doesn’t cramp up. I’m inside you, just like you wanted.” 

Namjoon merges the reality into the retelling, creating something more expanse than this world can bear and you’re awestruck. He sinks himself into your wonder, knees on either side of you as you lay flat on your tummy, your bum lifted a little, heels dangling off of the bed. 

Your eyes flutter beneath the tie as his girth stretches you and the colors you see are adjacent to the picture he paints. They blossom into shapes, swirly edges that grow into flowers and cling to the Tower like the violet petals cling to your body. Namjoon pulls out and gives you a long stroke and more flowers bloom, hanging by the lights. You lose your breath, the vibrancy of the pleasure so heavenly that you lose track of time, day and space as well, floating in that dream that the reality you thought about ripped away from you once he bottoms out. 

You can’t even hear yourself. Can only hear him as your senses wrap around him. 

“I’m not choking you. I’m not giving you a taste of your own delicious poison; I’m just holding you like this, helping you see your dream alive in front of your eyes. I look at you and I can’t help it. You’re illuminated by those lights, yet shining brighter. Kissed by the moon so much that I get jealous. Can you see that fucker up above?” 

As if he drew the planet with his finger, it appears in your vision as soon as he pulls out again and fills you in all entirety in one swift, but hard motion. And it’s now that you hear yourself scream as your clit rubs against his fingers flat against it with that collision. 

“Fuck, Namjoon, I—I can’t take it. It’s too good.” 

“I didn’t ask you if you could take it. I asked you something else,” he husks, moving his mouth against your neck. You feel your eyes rolling back underneath your closed eyelids and you moan, his hips picking up the speed. “You can take it and you will. Tell me, baby. Can you imagine that moon in your vision?” 

It’s right there, beaming at you, but you can’t focus, not when you can feel his cock in your throat. He huffs against you, overcome just the same, resuming his circles on your clit and you’re dead. 

“You’re so deep, Daddy,” you utter in one breath. “So good, fuck.” 

Soaked flowers. Stars flickering more quicker. White dots joining in, along with hot flashes. You’re face to face with your orgasm. 

“Focus, baby,” Namjoon scolds, voice straining nearing you closer, falling in step with you the more you clench your walls against him. 

“Can’t. Gonna come.” 

“Come, then,” he encourages, drilling you harder into the mattress, your clit yet again rubbing against his flat fingers. “Let go and give it to me like the nice girl you are. Come for me, baby.” 

Fireworks shoot through that picture and you cling to it as you come around him. Namjoon praises you through it all, darkening those flowers that surround it and your orgasm convulses through you, lasting as long as the flying colors bursting through the night-tinged sky. And white gushes in as he loses himself in your climax, his own triggered and he stuffs you with it, fucking you through it until the bed makes such terrible sounds that he stills, letting you milk it out of him. 

Panting, Namjoon swivels you halfway around while still buried inside you. “I’m gonna take off the blindfold now. Keep your eyes closed, baby.” 

You listen and he flings it off, kissing you, ravagedly, whimpering into your mouth. Exhaustion seeps so deeply inside you that you can barely reciprocate the energy of the movement of his mouth and with one last peck, he lets you breathe. 

When you open your eyes, it’s not the light that stings your pupils, but the exhilarated, flushed and content sight of Namjoon, his chest heaving, glistening with sweat. You blink a few times to get used to the beauty, touching him all over, spreading your love for him everywhere you can. 

“That was so perfect,” you whisper, sleepily. “Thank you. Thank you for making my dream come true. For making it better than I ever dreamed of. I love you, Joonie.” 

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles—with bruised, puffy, reddened lips that make you weak. 

“I love you.” 

You lay like this for quite some time, stroking each other’s skin, enjoying the rest and the silence. Namjoon takes off your heels then, massaging your feet as if they were in pain and you smile down at him, fondly. 

“Like hell, I’d let you wear these to the park.” 

You laugh through your nose, your love for him blooming, and he carries you in the shower. 

You join him on the balcony later, sharing a cigarette with him, wearing matching, thick and warm hotel bathrobes to protect you from winter’s cold. You look up at the moon as you take a drag and send your thank you to God for the contended joy that clothes your heart. Namjoon pulls you in, kissing the top of your head. 

“So, Turkey next time?” he asks, inhaling your vanilla scent from your body wash that you brought along. 

You sigh and life overflows from you. “In the summer. No business, just vacation. Just us. And if business does find you there, it’ll find me, too. It’ll be different this time.” 

Namjoon presses his mouth against your forehead, sinks his words there. “I’d marry you right now if I could.” 

Tears prick at your waterline, your throat aching. “If I pray hard enough, she’ll get better by spring,” you say, voice wobbling, speaking of your poor mother. You couldn’t get married without her—it’s the sole reason why your wedding is left in the hands of fate. 

“We’ll bring her to Turkey, then. I’ll make sure to tell her to pack her hanbok and I’ll marry you there. What do you say?” 

Rivulets of tears stream down your face and you look up at him, catching the same liquid lining his eyes. You nod, your mouth rounding in a pout. 

“Perfect,” you whisper. 

Namjoon gives you the last kiss of the night, sealing that plan shut and you believe, with everything in you, that he will bring it into reality. 

You trust him. 

Forever. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist

[mariasont]

aaron hotchner masterlist

smut = ✧ clean (ish) = ♡ angst = ✩

fics:

✧ our minds entwined WIP paused!

one shots:

♡ marked territory: you are not happy about a consultant trying to make a move on your man

✧ negotiation with mr. h pt 1 pt 2: hotch doesn't know what to do when his nanny flirts with him out of the blue

♡ bumper to bumper: you can't seem to park your car and hotch is the man to help

♡ office sleepover: you get put on a hit list and have to stay over at the office pt 1, pt 2, pt 3

✩ the manuscript: you find a series of letters aaron wrote you in college

✩♡ talking to a brick wall: you overheard aaron’s not so nice words about you

✧ spoiled: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

♡ some profiler you are: in which hotch insists you stay with him after you get shot

✧ ideas from a book: in which hotch catches you reading smut and finds out you have a gun kink

♡ give this old man a heart attack: you almost get yourself killed on a case and hotch has some choice words about it

♡ they think i'm pregnant: the team thinks you're pregnant and you decide to have a little fun with it

✩ please, don't prove 'em right: aaron hotchner is a busy man and he tends to disappoint you by missing important events pt 1, pt 2

♡ stupid crush: being the youngest member of the bau you think you have no shot with your hot boss

♡ late night podcast: hotch finds you fast asleep to the soothing sound of a seriel killer podcast

✩♡ too emotional: you and hotch are taken hostage, hotch makes some comments, but is it part of the plan or did he mean that?

nanny!reader

♡ laundry day: hotch notices a difference in how his clothes smell and realizes his nanny might have something to do with that

♡ parent-teacher conference: nanny!reader isn't too happy about a teacher trying to flirt with her boss

♡ date night: nanny!reader comes home after the worst date

bimbo!assistant!reader

♡ my assistant: bimbo!assistant!reader can't reach a book so hotch helps you out

♡ my boss won’t be happy about this: bimbo!assistant!reader is wrongfully arrested and hotch is not happy about it

♡ strawberry wine: hotch is a lot more flirty when he's got some alcohol in him (bimbo!assistant!reader)

♡ semantics: bimbo!assistant!reader flirts with an officer that has been driving hotch mad all day

♡ jealousy, jealousy: a witness flirts with hotch and bimbo!assistant!reader thinks that hotch is reciprocating

♡ good luck charm: bimbo!assistant!reader is gone for the morning and leaves hotch a couple sticky notes

♡ training day: bimbo!assistant!reader doesn't understand why hotch is giving her training lessons, but apparently he thinks she needs it

♡ talk about a bad date: bimbo!assistant!reader went on a shitty ass date and calls hotch to her rescue

♡ rainy with a chance of hotch: bimbo!assistant!reader gets caught in the rain

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yan!Husbands Boss x Married! Reader

"Just Another Day at The Office."

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, misogyny, name calling, nude photos, coercion, dubcon touching, fem genitalia for reader, mentions of divorce, general perversion, praise, clit play, cheating, readers husband is a scumbag.

(AN: Requested by an Anon early today, and it made me feral.)

Tick... tick... tick... the sound of an office clock rings in your ears, the only sound louder is your heart, pounding in your ribcage. The clock was awfully loud, though you had never noticed it before, when you were coming to bring your husband a warm, home-cooked meal. Maybe then you didn't notice it because you weren't fearing for your future.

Morgan & Cole, the investment firm your husband had been working for for years had been doing better than ever, and in turn, so had your husband. Promotions, expensive raises, and more had been sent his way. The house was even being repainted. All that begs the question, how had you found yourself in this situation.

It was a few nights ago when your husband informed you of the deal he had made with his boss. Morgan, the co-owner of the company, had his sights set on you, apparently. At a holiday party, he approached your husband with an offer, an offer to get a night with you in exchange for another fat raise. You had always known your husband hadn't been the most loving, but you had never imagined his greed could get to this. The worst part was how casual the deal he described was. Approaching a man at an office party and asking to sleep with his life like you were discussing sports frightened you. You had only met Morgan once or twice, and while he seemed charming, him doing something like this made you very much doubt he was in actuality.

You are snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of a door opening. Morgan steps out of his office, fidgeting with his smart-watch when he looks up and sees your meek form in the office lobby. His brow furrows.

"Oh, Mrs. Peters, I hadn't expected you to met me here. I had intended to come pick you up. How long have you been here?" He asks. You gulp. "Not long, just ten or so minutes." You say, trying to hold eye contact. He sighs and shakes his head. "Well, I wish you would have knocked on my office door, I feel awful having left you out here alone. Come, we can head back into my office and chat." His voice is so soothing, and in any other situation it would have been nice. You enter his office, and he closes the door behind him, before sitting at his desk. You take the chair in front of it.

"So, I assume your husband-" His teeth grind as he says this. "Is assume he has gone over what this is about." You nod. "He did... and... and I don't know if I can do this. I don't know you at all, and I'm a married woman." You whimper. Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, and Morgan sighs heavily. He comes around to lean back against the front of the desk, one hand supporting him while the other touches your cheek.

"I know this must be scary, I understand that. But I'm gonna solve both of those problems right now." He kneels down so your eyes meet his. "First, you worry you don't know me. Let me fix that. My name is Morgan Brant, I am thirty-two, and I live in a loft down on 37th. I like charcuterie and making my own organic lattes. I work out everyday, and enjoy walking through the city. I have both of my parents, Ruth and John, and they live in the city as well. Anything else you'd like to know?" You're too stunned and still panicked to respond, so you just shake your head. "Okay, okay. Good." He murmurs. A hand strokes your hair softly, as if trying to soothe a wild animal. To your shock, for a man who basically paid for a co-workers wife to prostitute herself, he does seem genuinely upset at your fear. His eyes are filled with a sorrow, and he chews his bottom lip nervously. He looks down for a moment.

"Mrs. Peters, your second concern, about being a married woman, is very respectable. I appreciate that you respect the sanctity of marriage so much. I think your loyalty and love for your husband is beautiful." He pauses, and gently grips your chin so you look him in the eyes. "But... I worry that love and loyalty may not be returned. Mrs. Peters, I need you to promise me you will listen to what I am about to tell you." You gulp, his suddenly serious, yet still soft, tone worries you.

He stands, walking to the back of his desk and opening a drawer, grabbing a manila envelope before sitting down at his chair again. He pushes the envelope towards you, folding his hand together and sitting up. He looks as those this odd exchange is yet another business deal, as he sits like a man prepared to do whatever it takes to seal a deal. A real businessman. Your hand trembles as it opens the envelope. Your heart stops.

Inside, your husband can be seen in several photos, from many different angles. Some looked ripped from security footage, others appear to be taken at a distance. However, they all contain the same subject. Your husband, locking lips with various women, every photo a different one. Your hand covers your mouth as you let out a choked sob. "N-no... I mean, he was never warm to me, b-but..." Everything comes crashing down at once. All those nights you waited up for him when he was 'working late', all those warm meals you brought him at work, only to be brushed off so he could talk to his secretary. It all made sense.

"I can't believe this..." You squeak. Morgan shakes his head. "You can believe it, I know you can. He's never loved you, I've seen how he treats you. Rejecting your meals, ignoring you at office parties and work functions. My dear, he is actively sitting at home and preparing to count the bonus he received for pimping you out to me." Morgan exclaims, his shoulders tightening. You put your head in your hands. "I'm... what am I going to do?! I'll divorce him, but I'll have nothing. I, oh god." You cry. Morgan once again moves to try and comfort you. His broad arms wrap around your shoulders.

"I know, I know this is scary. You've been through a lot tonight, your entire marriage even. But it's going to be okay." He cups your face. "I've been watching the two of you, you mostly." He hands you something. An empty tupperware container. "This is from his lunch yesterday. Every meal he rejected from you, I gladly took. I hadn't had the chance to eat something made so lovingly in a long time. They don't serve home-cooked meals like this at business conferences." He chuckles. "I saw how you would cling to him at those same parties he was ignoring you at, and wishing, praying you would cling to me like that." You look up, his confession is shocking. "Your husband... he is a greedy man, but he has pride. I knew I wouldn't even get a moment along with you unless there was something in it for him." He shakes his head. "Darling, I was just as disgusted as you were that he'd agree to that. As excited as I was, as I am for this moment with you, I was thanking whoever is out there that no other person at this office had tried something similar. I'm not some deviant, or criminal. I've had my fair share of sexual encounters, with prostitutes and escorts, but... I never felt anything. I need to feel something. I do with you." He says.

You shake your head. "You don't know me." You say. He shrugs. "You don't need to someone to love them, not at first. I hate to say this, but you didn't really know your husband, did you?" You sob again, and his sticks his hands out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry darling, that was out of line. I just needed to prove a point. What I'm saying is, I don't just want one night of pleasure with you. I want you to be mine. If you left him, you wouldn't be lost or desolate, you would have me. I could give your everything he has and more. Money, a penthouse, and my love. Real love. You deserve someone who wants to care for you the way you cared for that man-child. I can do that." You sniffle. "It's all so soon, and I don't... I'm scared." You say again. "I know. I hadn't wanted to do this here. I had wanted to show you the pictures and confess early on, I had plans to pick you up and take you somewhere nice to eat. I know the last thing you want right now is a fresh new relationship, I understand. But just maybe, the idea of revenge tempts you?" He suggests. You look up, and bite your lip. "What are you suggesting?" You ask.

"He thinks he's better than you, and that you could never leave him, because you have no one else, nothing else. Why else do you think he assumes their will be no repercussions for a night like this? He's so confident that you would never leave him, never even think about another man, that he truly believes you will return to him after he's pimped you out." Morgan moves closer. "I won't lie, I'll enjoy this, but don't just do it for me. Do it for yourself. Give in, leave him for a man who will worship you, who can give you more. Get back at him, and be with me." You shake your head. "You... you paid him to pimp me out to you like this though?" You exclaim. He nods "I had to show you how little he cared for you, same with the investigators I hired to get those photos." He nods in the direction of the envelope, now dabbled with your tears. "Besides, I've already signed his termination papers, I don't hire men like that here. He isn't getting shit for doing this to you." He assures.

In a moment of weakness, you break. The betrayal of the evening, the hurt and the fear, the anger, it's all too much. You sink to your knees, and nod. "Alright, let's do it. Just... be gentle, go slow." He nods. "Oh, my sweet. I'll do whatever you ask." He captures your lips, pressing your back against the front of his desk as he kneels beside you. His lips are soft, and taste of bourbon and mint. He smells like cologne, but a good kind, something smokey. Not like the tacky expensive stink of your husband, now ex-husbands favorite cologne. His tongue prods at your lips, and shyly you part them, allowing his tongue to slip in and suck against yours. He groans, and you both pull away breathlessly. While you take a breath, he immediately latches onto your neck, placing quick, feverish kisses along your collarbone. You gasp at the feeling, shrinking in on yourself. He grins.

"Does it really feel that good, that's quite a reaction." He chuckles. You blush and look to the side. "It's- It's been a while." He frowns and tilts his head. "How long is awhile, darling?" He whispers. "A few months, maybe eight or so." He shakes his head. "My poor girl, doing all that for him and he still wouldn't please you." He grips your waist, his lips on the shell of your ear. "To be fair though, even if he did, he couldn't make you finish. He would please himself, not you. But I won't, baby. Tonight, is all about you." You can feel a thick hardon pressing against your knee.

"Tell you what, darling. Let me make you feel good, real quick. Something nice and easy for my sensitive girl. Then, I'l take you out. I'm not just going to have sex with you without wineing and dineing you. Then, I'll take you back to my place, I-I'll send for your stuff tomorrow, and if you want, we can go for round two." He coos, looking up at you with admiration and hope. "Won't my husband try to resist my stuff being taken?" You ask. He shakes his head. "He's not your husband. If he calls, I'll hang up. He sold you out, and if he gets pissy, I've go the best lawyers in the country at my disposal. I'm not letting you spend one more night under a roof with that man. You aren't Mrs. Peters anymore, you're Mrs. Brant. Now... let Mr. Brant make you feel good." Hands cradle your thighs, slipping the skirt of your sensible slip dress up over your knees. A hand paws at your panties, cupping your cunt as he sighs. "So warm, poor little thing hasn't been touched in months. I've only kissed your neck a little, and your soaked. Is it because I said I love you? Does your little cunt respond well to just being admired and appreciated? Oh, my darling." He slips your panties aside just a little, not wanting to ruin your outfit for dinner later. Fingers part your lips as a long digit strokes up, from your entrance to your clit. A finger prods the entrance, and you gulp at the throbbing heat you feel.

"Gentle, slow please." You murmur. He nods, placing a gentle kiss on your neck before slipping in his digit. His long, calloused fingers rub your neglected walls in all the right ways. "A-ah, Morgan..." You pant. "Good?" He asks. You nod, breathless already. He thrusts it in and out gently, before asking to add another digit. When you nod, he adds another, while his free hand circles your clit with his middle finger. Perhaps its from typing everyday, day in and day out, but he is skilled. Even when your husband has slept with you, you had never felt like this. A coil forms in your stomach as you pant and whimper.

"M-morgan." You moan. "Please, I need to-" You're cut off by him sharply curling his fingers, as they hit a spongy spot deep inside you. "Oh, god. Yes." You moan again. "Cum for me, darling, please. I want to hear you." Morgan's tone is suddenly more desperate ethan you had heard it all night. He's needy, begging to know that he is pleasing you in the way he so desires. "Say my name, would you? I just want to please you, I need to know it feels good." He begs. "Morgan, I'm gonna cum, shit-" Your walls begin to pulse, juices coating his fingers. As you moan, finishing your high, he kisses you feverishly, desperate for closeness.

When you pull away, panting as you come down from your orgasm, he licks your juices off his hands with a squelching noise, putting your panties back into place. He helps you to your feet, and hands your your purse. "Ready for dinner?" He asks. Tired and very hungry, you nod. "Just one more thing, and you don't have to do anything, I've dealt with this myself plenty but-" He looks down, the tent in his pants is still very prominent.

"May I handle that before we go out?"

[boiohboii]

Noble prize winner wife (Toto Wolff x reader)

It's no secret that Toto Wolff is married, but no one ever saw his wife, for a while people doubted he actually had a wife as very few were invited to the wedding and she doesn't attend any races, but when they finally decide to go to an event together they break the Internet

or

in which they're the IT couple; with money, beauty and brains.

N.B: WARNING: not proof read, so there might be some spelling mistakes, like 2 or 4 swear words, f word. If I missed anything please let me know.

Face claim: Song Hye-kyo

Liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, lewishamilton and 967,187 others.

mercedesamgf1: Boss, you are too cruel for keeping your genius of a wife away from the paddock. Please welcome Dr. YN LN, 2 time Nobel Prize winner, to our page and hopefully the paddock soon (boss please let us invite her).

username: Holy fuck, she's serving 2 different looks

username: Mrs. LN , I am nothing but a speck of dust on your heels

username: SHE IS SO UUGGGHHH

username: she looks so dreamy

username: CAN TOTO WOLFF FIGHT

username: oh girlie, you gonna have your ass handed to you

username: you better hide

username: oh man, you prepared for a KO? cause Toto ain't letting no body touch her

username: at first I was all like, why won't he show his wife, but after seeing her and reading about her in the Nobel Prize Winners book, it's understandable

username: not me calculating my chances of winning against Toto Wolff

username: you know damn well you losing

username: I'd start begging before the fight even begins

Liked by Lewishamilton, Pierregasly, Charles_Leclerc and 890,517 others

mercedesamgf1: congratulations to our Mr & Mrs Boss on 15 years of marriage 🖤🖤 wishing for a baby boss soon

username: I am loving all the Wolff family content we are getting

username: they have 15 years to make up for

username: tbh I don't care about Toto, I just want to see YN

username: Toto didn't let people know that YN is his wife cause he knew she'd be stealing his fans

username: everyone switching to the YN LN lane

Liked by Lewishamilton, Charles_Leclerc, carlossainz55 and 917,621 others

Mercedesamgf1: The Mercedes team would like to congratulate Dr. YN LN on her hard work throughout the years and her leadership in such an important medical field. Her research has been helpful to many doctors and her website is extremely useful to our future doctors. Thank you Dr. LN for your work and dedication.

username: I love how this turned into her fan page

username: I would like to be adopted by the wolff family

username: the sunglasses are such a look

username: with every photo of her i get more and more obsessed

username: I love my mother

username: ever since they decided to go public about each other I have been feeling more and more single

username: her going to a race, toto going with her to receive her award can you all stop making us feel lonely as hell

username: wishing for her to join toto to the FIA awards ceremony

username: she will serve

username: will eat everyone up with her style and leave no crumbs

username: I am buying some crystals

username: no one will give a f about the drivers if she goes

username: bet toto took the third picture

username: for research purposes, I would like to know where the second picture was taken

Liked by Mickschumacher, formula1, maxverstappen and 918,369 others

mercedesamgf1: we would like to thank Dr. YN LN for joining us this evening, it had been a pleasure to have you with the Mercedes team. The Mercedes admin would like to ask our boss's Boss if you can please convince Mr. Wolff to give us a vacation a few days till he can find his way back from your eyes (can't blame him, I want to get lost in there too)

username: NOT THE ADMIN OUTING WHO'S THE BOSS IN THEIR MARRIAGE

username: BOSS'S BOSS!

username: well, now we know who ears the pants in this marriage

username: THE GLASSES MADE A COMBACK

username: THEY HAVE A DOG!!

username: I would not be surprised if the next photo is of them with a 14 year old kid

username: milf yn and dilf toto

username: don't mess with me rn

username: listen, I thought black is her color, but that pink dress is doing something to me

username: her doing her hair up is so sexy of her

username: fuck the kardashians, she is the only one I want to keep up with

username: you can't just make me die with a photo then to resurrect me with a cute one only to have my heartbeat crazy with the third

username: what cute one? The dog is doing nothing to distract us from her look

username: all I see is mommy

Liked by Lewishamilton, Pierregasly, Georgerussel and 826,179 others

mercedesamgf1: The boss is a bit busy, no better time for some team bonding.... the admin is so happy, thank you universe for giving Mr. Wolff some work

Lewishamilton: where are you guys? I want to join

mercedesamgf1: @.lewishamilton get in line, we have 5 other drivers on the waiting list

danielricciardo: @.mercedesamgf1 does that mean you will send me the location now?

mercedesamgf1: @.danielricciardo you are the third buddy, you have 1 British boy and 1 Spanish man in front of you

Charles_leclerc: @.mercedesamgf1 I thought I was before Carlos!

Carlossainz55: @.Charles_leclerc I told you I'm meeting her first

Georgerussell: @.mercedesamgf1 is that why everyone is coming to out paddock?

Danielricciardo: @.mercedesamgf1 wait, I was forth, who was first on the list

Mickschumacher: @.Danielricciardo hey man ✌🏼

Landonorris: tell Mrs. LN to check her phone please, I am standing in the cafe and her order isn't available

Mercedesamgf1: it's fine, you can just come to the location I sent you -Boss's boss.

Pierregasly: YOU HAVE HER NUMBER!

Maxversteppen: this is so unfair

Landonorris: go cry about it somewhere else

Mercedesamgf1: @.danielricciardo one British boy had been removed from the list

username: not everyone and their mothers wanting to meet YN

username: they are all down so bad and I understand

username: I would not be surprised if every single driver shows up next week with a swollen face

username: toto really had a point in keeping his wife hidden from these HOOLIGANS!

username: lando having her number is the most unexpected thing

username: how do you think Lewis and George are feeling?

username: they are crying in the club rn

username: not Mick being the first one on the waiting list

username: he's like a duckling following its mother whenever she comes to the paddock

username: the fact that she went twice and in both times Mick was seen just following her around

username: toto having to literally grab Mick by the back of his neck to be able to have a moment with his wife was the best thing to happen in 2023

mercedesamgf1: unfortunately all drivers that aren't with our team are banned from the paddock, Boss's order

username: toto really fighting for his wife's attention

[xxkissesforchanniexx]

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡: 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐈 | 𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐕

Pairing: demon!chan x reader x demon!minho Genre: Smut (and a ton of plot for once) Word count: 8.5k Warnings: almost dying, manipulative felix, whole ton of plot, p in v sex, unprotected sex, harassment (not by the boys), minor character death, suicide, very brief dry humping, degrading, fingering, lazy depictions of blood, marking again >.>, etc... (i think i got them all sorry if i missed something. not proofread... i got lazy im sorry

A/N: I'm really trying to work on how i write scary things and describe situations sooo bear with me if the parts that would be "scary" are varying in intensity. i'm gonna cry cus my power went out and the desktop shut off so i lost my SMAU.... i'll post it tomorrow i guess.

Shadows of forgotten reap. They hound and haunt the weak. Those who wish to wield the devil's wrath forget not all the patient are safe from the aftermath...

You woke up late. Again. Walking into the office you saw your coworkers giving you sideways looks. Yeah, you were screwed. You sat at your desk and were about to start working when your boss, Mr. Cho, walked past your desk.

Everyone greeted him but as he passed he tapped your desk and motioned for you to follow him.

Jaehwa gave you a wide eyed look. Soojin crossed her fingers. As you trailed behind the man to his office your shoulder brushed Juwon's. He looked at you for. a moment before he kept walking.

Mr. Cho opened the door and motioned for you to enter, you took a deep breath and walked in. He closed the door and motioned for you to sit in the chair across from his desk before he finally... FINALLY spoke.

"Ms. L/n..." he hummed softly, looking at some papers on his desk as he sat down. "You're very good at what you do."

"Thank you sir." You nodded slightly.

"Being good at something doesn't warrant your recent performance though..."

"Oh-"

"I'm not done." He looked at you with a very irritated expression. "The rumors going around are also a major workplace disturbance, I will be having a similar conversation with Mr. Yu."

You bristled Juwon had taken the rejection and gone what rumors could there possibly be, "Mr. Yu has nothing to-" You started.

He raised a brow at you.

You went quiet.

"I don't think you understand what I'm trying to convey." Mr. Cho, leaned forward, clasping his hands on the desk. "I'm going to fire you."

Your eyes went wide. "Mr. Cho I-"

"You've done a great deal for our company and our news but your terrible performance now far outweighs what you've done here n the past." He shrugged. "There's nothing I can do."

"Mr. Cho, I- You don't understand how badly I need this job! I can take more hou-"

"Ms. L/n." He smiled slightly. It was an unsettling smile that made you feel icky. "You're a beautiful young woman. You don't really need this job based on the rumors your boyfriend is incredibly well off."

"Mr. Cho I'm not going to rely on a man to take care of me." You clenched your fists under the desk.

"Then I can't help you."

You bit your lip and sucked in a frustrated breath.

"Unless.."

You looked up.

"As I said before Ms. L/n you're a very beautiful young woman with such... potential." He stood and walked around the desk, resting his hands on your shoulders. "I can help you keep this job.. at a cost."

You stiffened. "Excuse me?" You stood, turning to face the man.

"I know you're not stupid, Y/n." He leaned in close, " You know exactly what I'm talking about."

You stared at him. This man...

"Choice is yours." He breathed, hot breath against your face.

This man was a depraved fuck. You moved from between him and the desk, trying to go to the door.

He grabbed your forearm. "Y/n I'm offering you the bet thing I can at the moment."

You let out a dry laugh. "If you think I'm doing that you're crazy."

"How bad would it look if the board knew you jumped into Juwon's bed after one drink?" He pulled you back to him. "You need this job Y/n. How long do you think that boyfriend of yours is going to be there?"

You wrenched your hand away. "You can't say a thing about-"

"This is your only chance at having a job." He grabbed at your waist.

You shoved him. "Mr. Cho. Don't hurry in firing me. I'll submit my resignation." You turned and walked out of the office.

Soojin was waiting for you outside. "What happened?"

You didn't say a word as you grabbed your things and went to the elevator.

"Y/n!" Jaehwa ran to you from his desk.

"Girl-" Soojin started.

"I'll see you guys around okay?" You snapped as you slammed the button on the elevator to go down.

"What happened in there?" Jaehwa pressed gently.

"It doesn't matter." You felt the tears welling in your eyes.

"Y/n."

You looked up at the sound of Juwon's voice. He looked guilty..

"I'm sorry- why are you cryi-" He started.

"Leave me alone damn it!" You shouted. "Are you happy?!"

"Come on I didn't want this to happen!" He reached for you.

You pulled back. "Stay the fuck away from me Juwon!"

The elevator doors finally opened and as you were about to storm in and close them you were staring right at a dark suit, straining against hard muscle. You looked up at Chan.

He looked right past you at Juwon.

Jaehwa's mouth fell open as did many passersby as they saw Chan.

"Chan-" You started but he grabbed your hand and pushed past Juwon, walking straight through the cubicles and to your boss's office.

Your boss looked up from his work as Chan threw the door open. The man's eyes widened for a brief moment as he saw you being dragged by Chan. "Can I help you?" He asked.

Chan stared at Mr. Cho before closing the door.

You tensed, "Cha-" You tried to grab the enraged demon but before you could he was looming over your boss.

He muttered something in the man's ear and you watched as Mr. Cho froze in fear. Chan turned around and grabbed your hand again, dragging you out of the office and to the elevator. "You don't need this." He grabbed your work ID card and tossed it on the floor.

He jammed the button for the elevator to go down and pulled you in.

Juwon sprinted to the elevator and Chan smiled as the doors closed. He looked at you. "You don't ned this job. You'll live with me."

"With you?" You looked up at him. "In that hell house??!"

"Hey!" Chan huffed. "I built that house with my own mind."

"You're a psycho." You muttered, hugging yourself.

Chan frowned at you. "I'm a maniac, there's a difference."

You laughed slightly and Chan smiled at you.

You were sitting in your apartment, staring into space the next day when the bell rang. You stood expecting it to be Chan telling you start packing but as you approached the door, hand outstretched to the doorknob, your tattoo burned.

Don't open it...

You bit your lip and stared at the door, you relaxed after a moment and turned to go sit back down. But the bell rang again.

You didn't move and held your breath for a moment. Then you heard the banging on the door.

"Police. Open up."

You froze. Why? You were about to open the door when the tattoo sent a burning pain up your neck and down your arm and back. You couldn't make a sound and held onto the wall.

Do NOT open that door.

You slid to the floor in pain, trying to stop the pain. It was excruciating, like your skin was being burned off. You half walked, half dragged yourself to the bathroom and tried to reach the sink.

You crumbled at the bathroom door and almost, almost screamed, you felt like you were on fire. Your vision darkened and when you opened your eyes again you saw a room you hadn't before.

A hallway on fire. At the end of the hallway stood an angel, wings spread wide, his back was to you, all you could see was his blonde hair.

You walked towards him, the walls were going up in flames but there he stood. As the flames began to lick at the beautiful feathers of his right wing. You shouted at him, urging him to run, flee the flames of hell fire, but no sound out.

The flames completely enveloped his right wing, devouring the soft feathers and scorching the limb to the bone.

He crumbled clutching his right shoulder as the skin singed. And the wing.. fell to ashes..

He squeezed his shoulder, the burnt skin raw jagged bone where his wing once was remaining, jutting out of the burned flesh. And then he whipped his head around to face you.

The angel was him. The man in the flower field, freckled face, blonde hair and all.. but his eyes. One beautiful, vibrant blue eye and one black as the void between your world and that of Chan.

You reached for the angel, but arms wrapped around you followed by four big black feathered wings and you were drawn back.

Your head was pounding. And someone was screaming crying.

"Y/N!" a woman's voice, you knew this voice all too well.

"Y/N! WAKE UP!" A man.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER?!" And the deepest voice you'd ever heard.

Your eyes flew open and you sat up.

Soojin grabbed your hands. "Y/N! Calm down!"

You stared around frantically. Soojin, Jaehwa, that freckled face...

The doctor came up to you and started looking you over.

"Y/n." He kneeled beside your hospital bed. "Are you okay? What happened?" he reached for your hand.

The door to your room opened. Chan stood there, eyes wide, he looked scared. But his expression went from panic to anger. His eyes drifting from you to the freckled man.

He stood and looked at Chan. Soojin looked between the two men.

Jaehwa cleared his throat. "How is she doc?"

"She's fine." The doctor put her stethoscope away. "Who's in charge of her?"

The freckled man opened his mouth but Chan quickly interjected. "Me. I'm her boyfriend." He moved past the freckled man to your side and took your hand.

"I see, I can't identify exactly why she passed out but just make sure she's taking enough fluids and isn't overworking herself. If she feels dizzy, bring her back in, alright?"

Chan nodded. "Thank you doctor."

"My pleasure." The doctor nodded and left the room.

Chan looked at the freckled man.

The freckled man looked from Chan to you and back at Chan.

Chan's eyes narrowed.

"I'll take my leave." the freckled man looked at you.

"Soojin. Jaehwa." You smiled at your friends. "I'm fine. You guys can go."

Soojin walked to the other side of your bed and hugged you. "If you say so.."

Jaehwa smiled. "Take care of yourself."

You nodded and smiled.

Chan looked at you as Jaehwa closed the door behind him. "You've seen him."

You looked into Chan's eyes. "What is he?"

Chan bit his lip. "The only one of us who didn't fall all the way. Stay away from him."

You were in your apartment packing a week later, when Soojin came knocking on your door. She took you back to your old office to collect your things. You were siting through what was important to you and what wasn't when Soojin sighed.

"What is it?" You looked at her.

"You didn't hear the news?" She raised a brow before shrugging. "Then again you were fired-"

"Quit. I quit." You corrected her.

"Yeah sorry." She laughed. "But... Mr. Cho killed himself..."

Your eyes widened. "What...?"

"He hung himself in his house apparently, his mistress found him dead and called his wife." Soojin shook her head. "It's sad though, he wasn't a good guy but he was good at managing this place."

"He..." You sat on the floor, staring at the box of your things. You remembered how Chan whispered in Mr. Cho's ear, how Chan scared the man who was harassing you with one stare, how Chan made the freckled man leave.. He didn't... right? He wouldn't....

"Look... whatever made him do that... it must have been a lot.." Soojin closed a box and slid it to you. "We can't be happy he's dead, you can't wish that on anyone..."

You stared at the box of your things and sighed before putting on the lid. "He should rest in peace."

Soojin helped you carry a box down while you carried the other, putting them in her car before driving you back home. You smiled at your fried as you got out of the car and walked back to your apartment. You got in the elevator to go up to your floor ad as you got in a man with baseball cap pulled lower over his face entered.

You didn't think much of it, staring at the number going up on the little screen above the elevator door instead. 2... 3... 4... 5... 6....

The bell dinged at floor 14 and you got off, walking to your door and entering your apartment before locking the door behind you.

You looked at a package on the floor and picked it up, the address read, Lee Sungjin, Staaa St, Apt 153, Seoul, Korea.

You sighed, they always sent the neighbors packages to your apartment, what would Ms Lee downstairs do without you. You set the package on your counter and decided to give it to her the following day. You took a shower to relax before going to wipe the steam from the mirror.

As your palm pressed to the damp glass and you swept it across your eyes widened. The man with the baseball cap was in your mirror behind you. You whipped around only to be greeted by the wall.

"I'm paranoid." You muttered, deciding to brush your teeth and get some sleep. As you got into bed you heard a tapping on your window and glanced at it.

Probably a bird. You shrugged and got into bed.

Another tapping, louder now, and faster, as if whatever was tapping was trying to get your attention. You were about to get up when the tattoo burned. You grabbed it.

Don't go to that window.

The freckled man flashed through your mind for a minute. No... it's something else...

For a brief moment you debated forcing yourself to sleep and running until you found Chan, but then you immediately decided against it. You tilted your head slightly to see what was behind the glass, what could possibly be on the fourteenth floor tapping on your window if not a bird.

You stayed back from the window, easing your body to the end of your bed to see out of the window to your right.

As the full view of the window came into view you relaxed, there was nothing there.

BANG!

You jumped and shrieked, at the mutilated face in your window, skin charred and body shriveled. It slammed its hand on your window, no longer interested in luring you with its tapping.

You fell back off the bed and scrambled into the corner as it banged on the window desperately trying to get in.

You covered your ears and closed your eyes before arms wrapped around you.

"Sssshhhhh..." That lazy, tired voice said softly. Your eyes grew heavy and before you fell asleep you looked up at the man, he had a pretty face, chubby cheeks and eyes like a starry night.

You glanced at the window as you heard it shatter.

"Sleep... I can only help if you sleep.." he breathed.

And you buried your face into his chest and shut the world out before your mind gave into sleep.

You blinked the sleep from your eyes as you heard piano music. You sat up straight, looking around, you saw Chan at the piano, his hair dark unlike all the other times you'd seen him in your dreams.

"Can you play?" He asked, back turned to you.

"No.." You said softly.

"Come." he motioned for you to sit with him.

You walked to him and sat, he took your right hand in his left and set it on the keys. You turned to him. "I can't play.."

"Doesn't matter. Hit the keys like a mad woman if you want.." He smiled gently.

You blinked several times before pressing a random key. You moved your hands along the keys tapping black and white keys just smiling at how the notes melded together in a chaotic sound.

Chan watched you for a moment before finally saying, "You know I want to protect you right..."

Your hands froze.

"There's so many things I want to show you.."

There was a pause, in which you wanted to ask him. But he couldn't have. Not aft-

"I know what you're thinking and what you want to ask." He whispered.

You looked at him. "Did you?"

"No." He sighed. "I don't kill people pointlessly. Even if I wanted to.."

"I knew you couldn't have..." You relaxed.

He tilted his head. "Then why were you wondering?"

"You and your brothers are unpredictable is all." You laughed at the look on his face.

"Maybe I should be more predictable so you aren't always on your toes." He smiled, not a prideful smirk or a small shy smile but a real teasing smile and your heart fluttered. He took your hand in his and whispered, "I know it seems like we don't care but trust that we do.." He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently before muttering. "And I will protect you myself. No matter what.."

You stared at demon in front of you. He looked so human to you, so natural and real as you reached your hand out and caressed his cheek.

He leaned into your touch and opened his mouth to speak but you kissed him before he could get a word out. He relaxed and kissed you back, pulling you against him.

You gasped softly as he fell against your bed, you straddling him, he looked up at you, his pretty dark eyes locked on yours. He laid there beneath you only in a pair of sweatpants, his hands were set on your thighs, thumbs gently tracing circles. You touched his chest hand moving lower to his chiseled abdomen.

"Are you just going to admire me?" He laughed slightly.

You rolled your eyes and leaned down, your lips meeting in a tender kiss that he quickly turned hot and passionate, tongue forcing it's way into your mouth. You moaned softly and felt the smirk growing on his lips before he flipped you over, smiling down at you. He pulled your shirt off your body, lips going to assault your neck. For a moment you stared at the window but Chan grabbed you face and made you look at him.

"it's gone." He muttered, "It's just us." He looked into your eyes. "They know not to touch what's mine when I'm here." He moved lower kissing your abdomen and down to your thighs nipping at the skin.

You let out a soft sigh grabbing his hair. Chan pulled off your pajama pants and kissed your clothed heat before dragging the panties off your legs. His lips wrapped around your clit, as he eased two of his fingers into you. You let out a soft cry squirmed, his free hand came up to hold your hip.

You whined and bucked but he held you firmly, the hand moving to press down on your center. "No.." He said lowly.

The vibrations drew a moan from you and Chan hummed, fingers moving slowly, aggravatingly so. You whined and bucked slightly.

He looked up at you, "Say please."

"Your ego is so huge." You muttered.

"I'll take that as a compliment." He smiled.

You rolled your eyes. "Please.."

"Good girl." He pulled out his fingers and kissed your stomach, climbing on top of you.

You tugged at his sweats and he smiled removing them with your assistance before kicking them off his legs and to the floor. He kissed you gently as he sank into you.

You whimpered at the stretch and he smirked slightly. "Too big?"

You bucked your hips up to his. The demon gasped and glared at you.

You smiled innocently. Chan smirked and muttered. "I'll take that as a no.." He gripped your hips and pulled out before slamming into you again, your body jerked up the mattress as he set a brutal rhythm, fucking into you hard. You moaned and gripped the sheets.

Chan's hand found yours and pressed it into the mattress, the sound of skin smacking skin filling the room as his cock bullied into you. "Look at me when I'm making you cum." He muttered, leaning down, his lips hovering over yours.

You looked up into his eyes and your pussy clenched. He groaned and let go of your hand in favor of holding your face gently. "So tight.. so perfect..." He grunted against your lips before kissing you hard. His tongue clashing with yours, swallowing your cries as he moved faster, spiking your g-spot again and again.

His hand moved to grip your throat gently. "So pretty.." he pulled back, "Are you going to cum for me? Show me how much you love taking my dick?"

You nodded, mewling as his grip tightened slightly on your throat, not to hurt you just to keep you in place, yet your hands still flew up to grip his wrist and forearm, for something to ground you as he plowed into you.

"Cum for me." He moaned o low it came out in almost a growl.

Another buck of his hips sent you toppling over the edge and he let himself fall over you, grinding into you as he reached his peak with you. Groaning and muttering, "You did so good for me..." he kissed your cheek gently and pulled himself off you, rolling onto his side and hugging you to his chest.

"Thank you.." You muttered softly.

He looked down at you, "What for?"

"For always saving me." You kissed his pec and watched in the moonlight pouring in from your window as his ears turned red.

You giggled.

"There's really so much I want to tell you." he said quietly.

"Why not tell me now?" You poked him.

"Because I don't think you're ready yet." He said simply.

"Oh but fuck me why don't you." You rolled your eyes slightly.

"Should I?" He smirked at you.

"Not literally-" You started but he kissed you, effectively shutting you up.

You woke up the next morning and found Chan next to you, hair a mess, peacefully sleeping. You took him in, you caressed his face gently, and took a moment to just admire him.

His eyes opened slightly and he said softly, "I can feel you staring, y'know."

Your face got hot. "That's not fair! You can't jus-"

Chan kissed you gently and smacked you with a pillow before sprinting to your bathroom. He poked his head out and stuck his tongue out at you before closing the door.

You stared in shock for a moment, pulling the blanket over your chest. When did he become so playful...

You crumbled to your knees outside the apartment. You saw the blood plastered on the wall, in an ugly horrendous smelling, splat. Your hands immediately flew to your face and you dropped the package, one of the police walked out and grabbed you. "You shouldn't be here ma'am-" He started.

Your eyes widened, silencing the man as one of his fellow officers said "We found her.."

You felt sick to your stomach at the sight of her, eyes gone, the jaw slack open like the bones connecting her jaw were broken, you were about to pass out at the sight of her body from the breasts down burned.. shriveled like- a memory of the thing at your window a few days before flashed in your mind as you fell and Chan caught you.

"Y/n..." He shook you slightly.

You remembered the man in the elevator, how he hid his face. The thing in the window, the way you felt the hands round your throat. You trembled. And whoever killed Mr. Cho..

Chan shook you again and you looked at him. He took in your face for a moment before he looked up, eyes widening, he held you a little tighter, his eyes emitting a violet glow. You heard his voice in your head before you reached for him.

Something was here.

You didn't move a muscle. You had never seen Chan like this. Even with the whole Juwon situation. He looked genuinely concerned and the aura of possessiveness you felt radiating from him was almost overbearing.

It's not safe here...

You looked up at him as he lifted you in his arms. Why wasn't it safe? What happened to Ms. Lee? Why was Chan acting like this?

We'll come back for your stuff another day.

Soemthing told you to pick up the package and as you moved to do so Chan swept it up and moved to carry you away when a police officer stopped him.

"May I ask you two a few questions?"

Chan looked at him for a moment. "She's in shock. Try again later." He tried to move past the policeman.

"Sir, this woman came here as if knowing something happened."

You stiffened and Chan lowered you to your feet, stepping between you and the officer.

"Chan-" You started but you felt it again, the overbearing possessive aura radiating off him.

"She doesn't know anything." Chan said lowly.

The policeman's eyes widened slightly before he relaxed. "Whatever you say.." He moved aside.

Chan pulled you behind him briskly. You looked back at the policeman but he was gone. You blinked in confusion for a moment and turned to look at the demon dragging you. "Wha-"

"There's no time." Chan said before pressing the down button on the elevator. "It's not safe here anymore."

You were about to ask why but he pushed you into the elevator and pushed the button to your floor. As the elevator when down one floor Chan ushered you into the hall and you grabbed your keys about to start looking but then you saw him. The man with the baseball cap, only now you could see his eyes from under the hat, completely black with thin red slits. He turned to you completely but Chan put you behind him and stared daggers at the man in front of your door.

Chan backed up to the elevator and pushed the button to go down.

You looked at him as the elevator descended to the ground floor. "What-"

Chan looked at you. "You... are a very valuable human."

You leaned against the railing of the balcony of your hotel room. Chan had left you here while he got everything else ready for your move to his house. You stared at the city lights below, it was a very expensive hotel, and despite your protests that a less lavish place would be better Chan refused stating the security knew you and would defend you very well.

You hugged yourself for a moment, thinking about everything. Mr. Cho's suicide, how brutally Ms. Lee was murdered, the thing you saw outside your window that night, the man with the baseball hat standing outside your apartment. You looked at the package in your hands.

"I've been looking for a minute to catch you alone." a deep voice said behind you. That deep voice.

You turned to look at the freckled man, the angel. He took a step towards you and you took a step back, holding the package tightly

"Are you afraid of me?" He reached for you but hesitated, eyes flicking to the mark on your neck.

You didn't answer, debating if you could sprint past him back into your hotel room.

"I wouldn't do that." He smiled sweetly. "Let's just talk okay?"

You dodged as he reached to touch you again. "I'll scream..."

"What has Chan told you..." He walked towards you.

You took a step back and then you were pressed against the railing. "What's important."

"Has he?" The man took another step and you tensed. "You have no where left to go but down. So, let's talk. So neither of us fall."

"What do you want?"

"Don't you want to know why those things are looking for you?" He lifted his hand and a leather book appeared in a cloud of black. He held it out to you. "Don't you want to know what Chan did to you?"

The mark on your neck burned. You looked at the book and then back at the... what was he? He wasn't an angel, you didn't think anymore...

"Well?" He shook it in front of you temptingly.

You bit your lip. "What's in it?"

"What you're looking for."

The mark on your neck throbbed but you almost couldn't feel the pain as you reached for the book.

Someone's here...

A smile spread across his face as your finger tips met the aged leather of the book.

You moved to the railing and started to open the book's first page.

"Go ahead." He pushed the book fully into your hand.

You flipped it back at his face. He stumbled catching the book before you threw yourself back off the side of the balcony.

"What are you-" he bellowed, running to the edge as you fell back. His face hardened as you landed securely in Changbin's arms.

The demon spread huge bat wings, bracing his impact against the side of the hotel. "Chan sent me." He pulled his wings in close before pushing away from the building.

You looked at the... angel? still on your balcony. He watched you go for a moment.

"Why isn't he following..." You asked quietly.

Changbin pulled up and slowed down, stopping the air whooshing past your ears. "Even if he could throw himself with enough momentum, he can't fly. Not anymore."

You remembered how one of his wings fell from his back in ash. "Oh.."

You stayed quiet most of the way to Chan's home, you blinked a few times, trying not to fall asleep.

Changbin smiled. "You can sleep, I won't drop you. But what's that package..?"

You looked at Ms. Lee's parcel for a moment. "Something for a friend." You said softly.

He kept flying without pushing anymore. You yawned after a while and did fall asleep. It was the first time you'd slept well in so long, even though it was a short nap (Changbin's landing wasn't the best).

You jolted awake as he stumbled wings flailing backwards to halt his stumbling. He smiled sheepishly, apologizing for waking you as he set you down, motioning to the large house behind you. "Tada!" He smiled. "Awesome right?"

You nodded, looking at the white bmw outside the house. You had never seen that car before.

"Oh," Changbin motioned to it. "Minho's."

You nodded.

He led you into the house and Chan was waiting with Hyunjin in the foyer. The latter ran to you the moment his rose colored eyes set on you. He grabbed your shoulders, inspecting you from head to toe for a moment before Chan pulled him back. He searched your face for a moment and turned to Changbin, "He followed?"

Changbin shook his head and sighed. "I flew pretty fast."

Chan nodded and smiled at you, looking at Hyunjin, "Take her, I have to deal with something."

Hyunjin smiled and motioned for you to follow. As you were going to follow him, he put his arm in front of you, you looked towards the spiral stairs where Hyunjin's gaze was locked.

Minho came down the steps and he stared at you before looking at Chan. "Really?"

"Listen-" Chan started.

"Nope." Minho turned on his heel and went back up the stairs.

"Don't mind him." Hyunjin took your hand and led you up the stairs and around the corner motioning to a door. "Changbin is there. He pointed to the room across the hall from it, "Jisung," He motioned to the door next to it and stopped. He sucked in a breath and motioned to the last five, "Jeongin, mine, Seungmin, Minho, and all the way at the end of the hall is Chan."

"Where am I-" you started.

"In Chan's room."

You turned to look at him. "Huh-"

Hyunjin blinked. "Or would you prefer mine...? Jeongin and Changbin sleep pretty uncomfortably, and I think Minho might actually feed you to his pets. Seungmin would do something stupid. and.. Jisung doesn't exactly have a bed."

You pursed your lips. "It's fine.."

"Chan barely sleeps anyway, that's why he wanted you to take his bed." Hyunjin smiled and motioned to his bedroom door. "I'm right there if you need anything."

"Thanks..." You blinked.

"Of course." He kissed your cheek gently and smiled. "Sleep well."

You opened the door to Chan's room and entered slowly, looking around, it was different from the room you'd see in your dreams, there was still a desk in the corner, his big bed, with soft dark sheets but there was a TV, a door to his bathroom and another to his closet.

You opened it and looked at his clothes, most of the things were dark, dark blues and greys and so much black. You stared at the few white shirts he had and huffed softly. "No pjs."

You looked at the other side at his more casual wear and smiled slightly as you were greeted by a dark hoodie. You changed out of your clothes from that day into the hoodie and your underwear and tossed around the pillows a bit on the bed before deeming it comfortable enough and getting under the covers. You looked around for the remote a bit before you found it on the nightstand on the other side of the bed. You reached and turned on the TV, flipping aimlessly through the channels.

You found some random horror movie to watch and stared at it for a moment. After a few seconds the killer came around and stabbed one of the characters multiple times before stomping on them. You cringed, the camera panned down to the person laying lifeless, jaw slack as if broken. Your stomach flipped and your turned off the TV.

You kept replaying it in your head. We found her.

The sight of Ms. Lee's mutilated corpse.

"You seem upset..."

You jumped as Chan slid into the bed next to you.

"It's just me." he laughed and looked at you, eyes locked on yours before he whispered. "Don't watch movies like that."

"Sorry." You muttered, leaning against him.

"Don't apologize." he hugged you to him.

You didn't say anything to that as his hand rubbed your shoulder gently.

"What did he tell you?" he finally said, you wouldn;t have heard if the room wasn't so quiet.

"He had a book.." You replied.

Chan didn't respond but he tensed and you looked up at him.

"He said he could tell me what you couldn't."

"Do you believe him?" Chan asked, gaze on the blank TV screen.

"No..."

"Good." He whispered, kissing your head gently. "Go to sleep, 'kay?"

You nodded and tried to relax.

You honestly didn't know when you fell asleep, but you woke up in the field of flowers and stood.

You turned a couple of times, confused.

The man stood there, his eyes a vibrant blue. His lips started moving but you couldn't hear him. Why couldn't you hear him...

He noticed your confused expression and his face fell, he bent over, grabbing a bunch of flowers and grass, using them to write out, "You can't hear me?"

You nodded.

He kicked the flowers and looked very angry for a moment before he grabbed them and started spelling something out but he stopped, standing to his full height he looked at you.

You blinked and took a step back. He shook his head frantically before tapping his wrist.

"We don't have time...?"

He nodded, pointing to his neck then at you, then his ears before crossing his arms.

"I can't hear you because of my neck... oh? the tattoo?"

He nodded fervently and bit his lip, brows furrowing, he pointed to his neck again.

"The tattoo?"

He raked his thumb across his throat in a slit motion.

"The tattoo is going to kill me?"

He smiled and nodded.

You looked down for a moment. "How? Why? Chan wouldn't- he-"

He held his hand out and the leather bound book flew past the flowers and into his grasp.

He used his free hand to make a drinking motion.

"Drink?"

He shook his head, you noticed the sun was darkening, the man's movements becoming more desperate. His eyes widened and he mimicked rubbing them before yawning and doing the drinking motion.

"Coffee?" You guessed.

He nodded and tapped his wrist before lifting both hands into the air, straight up in a point.

"At noon..." You tilted your head, "Where-"

He shrugged and pointed to you.

You were about to guess again but the ground shook and split open beneath you. You grabbed around in the dark before closing your eyes tightly. And you fell back into your body, you opened your eyes slowly and looked around the room.. You were alone.

The next morning you saw someone in the kitcen, recognizing Minho you turned on your heel and tried to run somewhere else but you were stopped by a "You're not that sneaky."

"Oh come o-" You started.

Minho stabbed the knife he was using to cut the fruit into the cutting board and looked over his shoulder at you. "Are you so scared of me?"

"You came at me with a power drill-"

"You're human."

"Wow thanks for noticing." You rolled your eyes and walked into the kitchen, muttering to yourself as you fiddled with the coffee maker.

Once you got the coffee going, it was quiet all except for the soft trickle of the coffee into the pot.

Minho went to the stove and started making eggs. "Hand me that." he motioned to the pepper.

You handed it to him and he kept shook a little onto the eggs.

"Can you cut that?" he motioned to an onion. "Rough chop."

You did as he told you and he hummed softly when he took them from you. When majority of the things were done you smiled, turning to get a mug from the cabinet, coffee, finally...

You paused as Minho pressed behind you, breathing in your ear. "Is something wrong?"

You held your breath half expecting him to snap your head off, but he rested a hand on your hip.

"So easily scared but such big talk." He huffed a small laugh. "Stupid human."

Your face burned as he handed you a mug, "I'm not stupid..."

"You sure?" He tilted your head so you looked up at him.

Your heart stopped, when he didn't look like he wanted to kill you, he was really attractive.

"You humans faces really give away so much stuff about you." he mumbled, you could feel his breath on your lips. "No wonder Chan likes you. Such a slut." he pulled your hair and you gasped. He pressed harder against you, crotch rubbing against your ass as he breathed, "Lucky me I didn't mark you." He pulled away leaving you feeling hot and bothered.

"Hey!" You huffed, rubbing the back of your head.

He grabbed mug from the cabinet and walked over the coffee maker as if he hadn't just disrespected you like that.

"Asshole." You muttered.

He turned back to whatever he was doing, sipping his coffee, and for a brief moment you swore you saw a small smile on his face.

You somehow made it out of the house without Chan or the others suspicion, it was one meet up.. nothing could go wrong.

Or so you thought.

You went to a coffee shop near the house in case you needed to book it, you weren't afraid of him (you were), what could he possibly do? He couldn't even fly (but neither could you).

"The tattoo makes you more attractive to demons. Chan claimed you." He huffed softly. "It's also why you can't hear me."

"What does the tattoo have to do with the things I've seen?" You pursed your lips.

"Those things.. are demons ." He looked at his cocoa, "Think about how many demons want a part of the strongest's power? To crawl up to his level of strength?" He huffed a laugh. "The Sin of Pride isn't something to be tossed around uselessly." He leaned forward, and for a brief moment his eyes looked manic. "So, why would he choose a human like you..."

You squeezed your mug and exhaled.

He slid the book across the table. "This has more answers."

You looked at it. "What is it...?"

"A gift."

You took the book cautiously and opened it. The pages were blank... all of them. You flipped from left to right brow furrowing. "Why-"

"Read it in a church. The words only appear in the lord's house." He stood and stretched.

"Wait!" You stood as well.

"Hm?"

"Who are you? Why don't the others trust yo-"

"Call me your guardian angel." He smiled. "I'm going to save you from them all." He smiled and walked away.

You looked at the book before looking back at your "guardian angel", he had vanished, completely gone in the crowd.

You had a bit of time to yourself so you ended up going to the church. The pastor was doing something at the sanctuary, you entered silently and closed the door behind you. It had been a long time since you'd been in such a place. You dipped your fingers in the water at the front and performed the sign of the cross.

You walked further into the church and moved to sit on a pew, you grabbed the book from your bag and were about to open it when the pastor greeted you.

"It's not often young people like you walk into the house of god." The pastor tilted his head at you.

"I'm just... thinking a lot." You said dismissively.

"About?" He asked clearly trying to get something out of you. "I see you're very devoted." He motioned to the tattoo.

"Oh-" You almost laughed. "Yeah... Very..."

"So what's on your mind child?"

You pursed your lips. Could you really tell him about the book..? "Well... I've been interacting with certain people recently." You reached into your bag. "Things have been happening recently."

"Because of those people?" the pastor sat beside you.

"So I've been told." You pulled out the book. "And this... has the answers."

He blinked a few times. "What is it..?"

You shrugged. "I can't read it anywhere but a church so.."

The pastor took the book from you and opened the first page. You looked over his shoulder, hoping to see words.. and there was nothing.

You grabbed the book and slammed it shut, opening it again.

Nothing. nothing but aging yellow blank paper.

"I don't- he said..." You opened and closed the book a few more times.

"Now," the pastor took th book from you and rested on the seat. "There's only so much that God can do perhaps first, you should direct yourself to a mental health prof-"

"Are you calling me crazy?!" You looked at the man.

"No- just-"

"I know it sounds crazy but this tattoo the book- the things I've been seeing-"

"I don't really think-

"You don't understa-"

Thunder clapped outside and you turned to the window as it started raining.

"That wasn't in the forecast.." The pastor stood up and sighed. "I'll get you an umbrella so you don't get wet when you go out there."

You shoved the book into your bag. "It's fine."

"I really insist. I could not help you and-" The pastor froze, gaze locked on the church doors.

"And nothing." You stood and turned but the pastor grabbed you and held out his bible.

You finally looked at the doors. the man with the cap stood there. His eyes completely black, gaze locked on you and the pastor.

"In the name of Jesus..." The pastor moved slowly from between the pews, backing you up behind him. "I cast thee from this holy house."

The man with the baseball cap took a step forward and for the first time you felt something heavy weighing down on you.

"In the name of the lord, our savior, you shall not walk upon this hallowed ground."

The tattoo burned and you clutched your neck. The pastor grabbed his cross and held it out.

The man stopped, staring at you from under the rim of his hat.

"Child what's wrong-"

You gasped in pain as you felt your tattoo being undone and redone over and over. The pastors eyes widened and he stumbled back away from you in shock.

"You bear the mark of a demon! You see things! You- In the nam of Jesus Christ I remove this evil from you!"

You collapses and held your neck, it felt like the skin on your neck was being torn off your muscle. Your hand instinctively held on to the tattoo.

"I cast out this wicked being from this daughter of the lord!"

And then you felt the burning. Like your whole body was fire. A brief image of the freckled angel burning in the hallway flashed through your mind and you let out an ear piercing shriek.

"I beg of you lord free this chi-"

You hugged yourself, it burned. You remembered how Chan had smiled at you, how Changbin had offered to share his food, the sight of Jeongin counting his money, Hyunjin sitting there painting anything and everything. This couldn't be it.

You saw the blood before you realized what happened. Your eyes went wide, the burning stopped.

And the pastor's head was gone.

When Minho saw his older brother writhing in bed and clawing at the frame as if he were in pain he thought three things. The first was that judgement day had finally arrived and he and all his brothers were about to burn in holy fire and DIE. The second was that he was going into heat and resisting the urge not to find you his precious human and fuck the daylights out of you. And the third... he didn't want to think about the third.

Because why on earth would you ever try to get rid of his brother?

"Minho!" Chan jerked up and looked at him. "What is she doing..."

Both men stared at each other before Minho turned and went straight out the door.

Chan tried to stop him. "Minho- Don't" He got up but collapsed, "JEONGIN!"

"Hyung-" the younder demon stared at his brother in shock. "Why are you on the ground-"

"Minho's going to kill her-"

"Hyung I can't stop him-"

"MINHO!" Chan shouted.

MInho tore through your old apartment and found nothing. He considered paying that man who wouldn't leave you alone a visit but decided against it, then he remembered. Changbin mentioned you had a run in with... that thing.. at your hotel.

So when Minho realized you were breaking the pact without realizing he went straight to all the nearest churches. After scaring the living daylights out of several nuns, interrupting a baptism and a small wedding he found you in a church near a coffee shop.

He braced himself to enter, the storm outside whipping his hair into his eyes. Why the hell were you here in the first place? He threw the doors open just in time to see the man with the baseball cap pouncing on you, no not a man. That devil..

Minho threw himself at him with such force, both of them flew and hit the floor of the sanctuary, skidding across the floor as Minho wrapped his hands around the thing's neck.

You sat up and scrambled back, your hand touched blood and you looked at the pastor's body. You started hyperventilating, you needed to leave. You needed to run. You looked at Minho who was still slamming the man's head against the steps of the sanctuary.

You got up and took off running, stumbling over yourself as you tried to get to the church doors, you crashed against them fumbling to pull them open when a hand slammed beside your head. The wood of the door cracking as it slammed shut.

You didn't dare move. You couldn't even breath, watching as the blood seemed to waft off his hand in ash.

"Explain." he said lowly.

You didn't speak. You didn't turn around, eyes still glued on the door in front of you. Minho grabbed you shoulder and turned you around pushing you against the door, his red eyes narrowed.

"Were you trying to kill Chan.."

"What?" You were confused, "Kill him?"

"You really want to act stupid?!" He snapped.

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND! He told me the damn book would show the words in a church so I came here and-"

"Who?!" Minho glared down at you.

"The guy with the freckles.." You muttered.

Minho stared at your tear filled eyes and pulled away releasing a heavy sigh. "What book?"

You stood and walked between the pews grabbing your bag and pulling out the book.

Minho took it from you, flipping through the pages, "It's blank."

"He said it wouldn't be if I read it in a church." You whispered.

"He said that to kill you and Chan." Minho gripped the book tightly in his hands and the it went up in flames in his grasp. "Do you know what that tattoo means?"

You nodded. "Chan said because I'm hi-"

"Because you're his." Minho rolled his eyes. "Without sugaring it over. Chan made a pact with you. Even if that pact is broken and the mark is removed, remnants of Chan's power are still in you. To have the power of one of us, and no one to save you it makes you an easy target."

"He said he was helping me-" You thought about how innocent his smile was then how Chan had said not to trust him. Tears filled your eyes, you were an idiot, you were so stupid, you- you-

"He lied to you."

And you believed it. You sat on the floor beside the pew and stared at a sheet of paper burning on the ground from the book.

"I don't know if it works like this." Minho muttered to himself.

"What?" You looked up.

He turned away for a moment, staring.

"Minho-"

"Do you trust me?"

"I-"

"Do you?" he got on his knees in front of you.

You stared at the demon. Who attacked you with a power drill. Who scared the living shit out of you every time you saw him. Who just saved your life. You nodded.

Minho grabbed your wrist and pulled it to his mouth, you jerked but his grip tightened and you pulled back he fell over you as his fangs sank into your wrist.

You gasp as you felt your wrist throb and your neck burned. Just as the church doors flew of the hinges and your head turned seeing Chan standing at the door.

© 2024 xxkissesforchanniexx. DO NOT COPY OR TRANSLATE MY WORK

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 if your name is in blue i can't tag you very sorry Reply to this post if you want to be tagged for this series

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦

@juskz @asahisimpnation @seolarsonlyloveisyou @leeknowsnot @oddracha

@palindrome969 @armystay89 @bubblespop @bubblerizz @igetcarriedawaywithyou

@hot-emotional-mess @seungminindabuilding @ot8 @rylea08 @tag

@todorokiskitten @stay-tiny-things @lara

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

@yaorzu-blog @privhace @ivydoesit23 @krayzieestay @seweng

@doitforbangchan @maisyyyyyy @candyquokka @hydroyaksha

@love--in-stayville @skzswife

[yuujispinkhair]

Wildest Dreams

You're supposed to write an article about a charity event at The Shrine, the casino of the Itadori family, but soon get swept away by the Yakuza Prince himself. It's probably a bad idea to get close to a dangerous man like him, but he's so tall and handsome as hell. Why not allow yourself to live your wildest dream, at least for one night? -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event (closed). @cometcoffee103 requested the song Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift for Yakuza!Yuuji.

Pairing: Yakuza Prince!Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut, Yakuza AU Word Count: 2k Warnings: 18+, a bit of smut (not very explicit), taking pictures during sex, mentions of alcohol, mentions of organized crime. This story is set in the same universe as my Yakuza AU, but you don't have to read that to understand this story. All you need to know is that Yuuji is the younger brother of the Yakuza King Sukuna, and this version of Yuuji is a bit of a playboy, but in a very sweet and charming way ;) All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

The casino is bustling with people, all of them dressed to the nines, including you. But you feel out of place here, despite the nice dress you are wearing and the red lipstick you put on. Everyone around you is someone important, someone insanely rich or influential, politicians, actors, businessmen. And Yakuza.

You gulp hard. Your hand trembles a little as you bring your wine glass to your lips to take a small sip. You shouldn't even be here. You usually only write short lifestyle articles for your magazine. It was your boss' job to attend the charity event in The Shrine, the biggest casino in the whole city, the casino of the Itadori family, one of the most powerful Yakuza clans in the country.

But two hours ago, you received that fateful message: "Put on your nicest dress and hurry to The Shrine. I'm at the hospital and can't make it. I need you to write the article about the charity event. And try to add something personal about the Itadori brothers! That will get our readers hooked."

And so you are standing here, clutching your wine glass while trying to blend in with the millionaires around you, feeling the hairs on your arms stand up as you wonder how many of them are criminals.

You don't even see him coming until he is right in front of you, moving gracefully like a tiger. A broad smile lifts his lips, and golden eyes meet yours.

"Hey, don't you like the wine? Should I get you another drink?"

You take in a sharp breath. You know the man in front of you. Of course you do. 

Itadori Yuuji, with his pink hair and golden eyes. Tall and muscular in his tailored black suit with a pink dress shirt and black tie. Looking just as rich as he truly is with the diamonds sparkling in his ears and the gold rings on every finger. But the scars on his handsome face also tell a story about the other life he is living. His life in Tokyo's underworld.

He is one of the people you got sent here for. The Young Tiger. The Yakuza Prince.

Your heart flutters nervously. But you force yourself to get a grip and be professional. And so you clear your throat before smiling politely at him and shaking your head,

"No, thank you. The wine is perfect, Mr Itadori."

He blinks and then throws his head back and laughs heartily.

"Ahh, please don't call me that! I am Yuuji for someone as cute as you."

Oh?

For a moment, you are caught off guard by his directness and the shameless flirting. But the Itadori charm is well-known. Both Itadori brothers are infamous for being big flirts and playboys who collect women just like they collect fast cars and expensive jewelry.

He points at the press card dangling on a chain around your neck,

"You're here to write about the charity event? How lucky that you ran into me! I can tell you everything you want to know. Come with me!"

You hastily follow him, not daring to waste this chance to get the article your boss demanded from you. And also not daring to turn down the Yakuza Prince's offer.

You spend the next fifteen minutes in a fancy VIP booth while Yuuji answers your questions for your article. Though half of the time, he is blatantly flirting with you. He isn't shy about it. Clearly, a man used to always getting what he wants. The spoiled Prince of Tokyo's underworld.

But you have to admit that his boyish charm works on you. Somehow, his loud laugh and broad sunshine smile make him seem less intimidating than his name suggests. If you didn't know who he was, you wouldn't even be nervous around him. He is so sweet somehow, making you laugh and feel more at ease at this event where you feel so out of place.

And his good looks certainly work their charm on you, too. He looks dashing in his suit, which accentuates all his firm muscles. The undercut and the pink hair on top look sexy on him. You realize that you have unconsciously scooted closer to him.

His golden eyes look thoughtfully at you, making your heart jump. 

"You don't look like you enjoy this event very much. I hate these things, too. All those boring people who try to talk business with me, and no one dares say something funny. I don't know how Sukuna is able to endure this all the time."

He sighs and rolls his pretty eyes. The eyes that then land on the low neckline of your dress. His smile grows bigger, and your breath quickens. Yuuji's large, warm hand lands on yours, giving it a squeeze.

"Hey, cutie, let's leave this boring party, ok? Let's drive out of the city, away from the crowds. We can have some fun, and you can get an exclusive interview with the Yakuza Prince! Not just boring facts about this event, but more personal things. How does that sound?"

Everything in you screams to say no. It's insane to leave with the Yakuza Prince. He might not be as dangerous as his big brother Sukuna, but he is still a powerful Yakuza who can easily kill someone, as the scars on his pretty face prove. It's crazy to imagine getting in his car and driving to an unknown place with him. It's wild to imagine being alone with him.

But somehow, you find yourself biting your lip and nodding as you lift your head to look up at his handsome face. Somehow, your heart is beating so fast that you feel dizzy. Somehow, your skin tingles with excitement. You know you want to go with him. Even though you know there is a high chance this is going to take you down, you can't bring yourself to say no.

And so the words leave your mouth,

"Ok, let's go. Let's sneak away."

Yuuji smiles his bright sunshine smile at you, just as dazzling as the diamonds sparkling in his ears and the various gold rings on his fingers. There's a cheeky glint in his golden eyes,

"I'm very good at sneaking away."

He grabs your hand and pulls you with him, striding with fast steps through his casino, and starts running when you're halfway out the door, laughing loudly, as if he is relieved too to finally leave this fancy event behind. As if he is finally free.

He leads you to his car, a red Porsche, his favorite one, as he lets you know while he holds open the door for you, so charming that you can't help but feel light-headed from all the butterflies in your stomach.

Yuuji drives like someone who knows this city belongs to him. A bit too fast, the music a bit too loud, but it's perfect the way it is. It makes your pulse flutter and your body fill with a giddiness you can't remember ever feeling before.

You leave the city behind you, making an excited tingle start under your skin and spreading through your whole body. It feels like an adventure. Exciting, bubbly. As if your wildest dreams are coming true.

Yuuji parks his car on top of a cliff, turns off the engine, and turns to you with his big sunshine smile.

"So, what are your questions for me, princess?"

You laugh softly,

"Well, my boss said I should try to add something personal about you or your brother. Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself? Not about the Yakuza Prince. Tell me about Yuuji."

He smiles and leans closer to you, his large hand cupping your cheek while his golden eyes travel slowly over your face. His thumb caresses your cheek, the gold ring on it gliding smoothly over your skin. Yuuji's voice is low, and you can hear the smile in it,

"Then let me tell you a secret. I hate all those stiff, formal events. I rather want to go clubbing or play video games with my friends. I enjoy spending time at my pachinkos and making my best friend Megumi play the arcade games against me, even though I know I suck at those games. And I like to hang out at my pizza delivery service. I don't care that it's only for ... tax-saving purposes. I love pizza! I want to adjust the recipes and make the best pizza in the whole city! That is my new passion!"

His eyes glitter excitedly while his voice drops to a softer tone, low and almost seductive,

"And I like this here. What we are doing right now. Drive out of the city and look at the sunset. I know I can see it from my penthouse, too, but it's not the same."

His words could sound arrogant, the words of someone who grew up rich and has no idea how normal life works. But he doesn't sound like that. There's an almost melancholic tone to his low voice. As if this evening with you, where he ran from his obligations and the glittering fancy party, is his wildest dream, too.

A soft smile lifts your lips, and you catch yourself leaning into his large, warm hand as you look deeply into those gorgeous golden eyes,

"Then let's stop this stupid interview and just enjoy your free evening."

His answer is a broad, boyish grin that makes your stomach flutter. You chuckle when Yuuji leaves the car and comes over to your side, opening the door for you like a gentleman and offering his hand to lead you to the fence at the end of the cliff, where you have a majestic view over the ocean and the beginning of a beautiful sunset.

But your gaze strays to the man next to you. The Yakuza Prince. Or out here, just Yuuji.

You look at him, at his side profile, hit once again by how good he looks. So tall and handsome as hell in his tailored black suit with the light pink dress shirt and black tie. More stunning than any sunset could ever be.

Yuuji turns his head, catching you staring at him, and laughs happily as he reaches out to wrap a strong arm around you and pull you in front of him, making your pulse flutter with how easily he can manhandle you.

He stands behind you, so tall and strong, his muscular arms wrapped around you, holding you safely, his body pressed against your back, warm and buff. You can feel his firm muscles and smell his sexy and expensive perfume.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his kisses on your neck.

You tilt your head back to rest against Yuuji's shoulder as you look up at him and are met with a smile even more beautiful than the sunset.

A warm, large hand cups your chin, and then soft lips capture yours in a slow, sexy kiss that makes your knees weak. Who would have thought that the Yakuza Prince would be so gentle when he kisses you for the first time?

You have no idea how long you kiss him. You get lost in the feeling of his warm lips on yours and his tongue caressing yours with those deep, sexy flicks. Your hand is tangled in his pink hair as if you don't ever want to let him go again.

The two of you only pull apart to watch the rest of the sunset, with Yuuji's arm around you as you lean against his strong body, unable to stop smiling while your pulse races and your heart hammers in your chest, your skin tingling all over from the sheer craziness and excitement of it all.

+++

"Do you want to spend the rest of the night with me?"

Your heart misses a beat at Yuuji's question. You feel dizzy when you turn around in his arms to look up at his handsome face.

The deep scars across his nose and on the side of his lips tell you about the dangerous life he leads. His title tells you about how dangerous he himself is. You know he is bad, so so bad. But you cannot bring yourself to turn him down when he smiles that big smile at you. You cannot say no to him when every fiber of you craves him, if only for one night.

And so you nod and place a hand on his broad chest, playing with his black tie as you breathe softly,

"Yes, I can't think of anything else I would rather do."

And he smiles that attractive boyish smile at you and leans down to kiss the corner of your lips,

"I will always remember this evening. The pretty sunset, with an even prettier girl. You in that dress, with your red lipstick and the sweet kisses. Please tell me you'll always remember it, too."

You nod happily before cupping his cheeks with your hands and getting on your tiptoes to kiss him again, breathless and passionate, before whispering against his lips,

"Say you'll see me again after tonight, Yuuji."

And his arms tighten around you, strong and muscular, and he nods,

"Of course I will."

You don't hesitate when he leads you back to his car and holds the door open for you. You smile when his large hand lands on your thigh on the drive back to the city, slipping under your dress to caress your inner thigh, dangerously close to your already-soaked panties, making your heart beat wildly as you grab the leather seat. 

You giggle breathlessly when he leans over and kisses you at a red light, making your head spin with the sexy flicks of his tongue before he pulls away again.

You eagerly say yes when he asks if he can accompany you to your apartment. Your dress is already halfway off by the time you manage to unlock your door in between passionate kisses.

You moan when Yuuji's large hands knead your ass and his warm lips suck on your neck. You palm the hard bulge in the Yakuza Prince's fine suit pants all too happily, gasping at how big and hot he feels. You leave a trail of clothes on your floor, leading to your bed, where you spend the best night of your life.

Ruffled sheets, the rhythmic beating of your heart in synch with the headboard banging against the wall. Yuuji's heavy body on top of you, pressing you down so deliciously into your sheets. Loud laughter, even louder moans, and dirty whispers in your ear. Kisses and lipstick marks all over his tan skin. His clothes on your bedroom floor, your hands in his pink hair. Every inch of you brimming with pleasure while you're tangled up with Yuuji's strong body all night, finding utter bliss on his sweet mouth and his gorgeous cock. Smiling when he asks you to please let him take a picture of you while you ride him.

Tomorrow morning, he will leave, get in his sportscar, drive back to his fancy penthouse, and continue to live his fast life as the Prince of Tokyo's underworld. You don't know if this will only be one night and you'll never stand before him in person again after this. But you know you both will always remember this night.

And you will see him again, even if it's just in your wildest dreams.

AAAHHHHH thank you so much for this prompt, babe!!! I was so happy to write for Yakuza Prince Yuuji again aaaahhh!! I am crushing so much on him all over again omgggg 💗💗💗 I NEED HIM BAD!!!

I hope you liked staring at the sunset and staring at sexy Yuuji ;) Please let me know what you think!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Running so fast to your inbox!!!!!!

Smut list 2, number 28

And him!

Salivating!!!!!

Daddy's Sweetheart

PAIRING || Husband!Lloyd Hansen x Bimbo!Wife!Fem!Reader x Mobster!Steve Rogers

WORDCOUNT || ~ 700 words

SUMMARY || You've been married to one of the most feared men in the entirety of the United States. As soon as he met you - his kind, soft-spoken wife - he knew he had to have you, and when you allowed him to use you whenever he pleased, he couldn't be happier.

RATING || Mature (M)

TAGS || Established relationship. Bimbo!Reader. Soft!Lloyd.

SMUT || Daddy kink. Exhibitionism. Voyeurism. Dirty talk. Referenced unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!).

A/N || This drabble is part of Nicoline's Summer of Drabbles. Jen, as soon as I saw you requesting Lloyd, I immediately got excited! This is my first time writing about him, so I hope I have done him justice - I also can't wait to write more for him in the future! This isn't proofread; any and all mistakes are my own. 🤍

EVENTS @anyfandomaubingo || Mobster!Steve Rogers @lloydssluts LHWC '24 || "You know what I love about you?"

Photo: Source || All other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Lloyd Hansen || Summer of Drabbles

"You know what I will never understand, Hansen? You have such a pretty thing walking around here, clad in dresses that barely cover anything, yet you're still one of the grumpiest men I've ever known. Maybe you just need to fuck her real good for once, and you're suddenly a whole new man."

Lloyd listens to the man across from him - the famous mobster Steve Rogers, right-hand man to mob boss James "Bucky" Banes - with a relaxed expression, not in the least fazed about how he talked about you—his wife.

"Is that so?" Lloyd asks nonchalantly, swishing the glass of whiskey back and forth a few times before making eye contact with the blond mobster.

"Well, why don't I do that right now while you watch? Let's see if my mood changes after I fuck her brains out until she can't think of anything else than me until she's begging me to stop after I've pumped her so full of my cum it'll be dripping down her thighs for days."

Lloyd's demeanor hasn't changed at all as the words leave his lips, while Steve is certainly interested. With one push of a button, Lloyd summons you to the office - a place you usually only visit when he needs to let out some steam by fucking you until you're nothing but a limp mess in his arms. Within less than a minute, you knock on the heavy wooden doors, a flurry of butterflies going wild in your stomach at your husband's voice.

"There she is! Can you come here for a moment, Sweetheart?" Lloyd says, love clear in his voice. Steve's face contorts at the apparent difference in behavior - he's not used to seeing the soft side of the man across from him. The warmth on your cheeks spreads as you walk into the office, your short, pink sundress fluttering around your hips as you walk in, giving a smile to Steve as you do.

"Hi, Mr. Rogers," you say in a soft tone before bending down to give your husband a gentle kiss on his lips. As you do, you're giving Steve a look at everything beneath your dress and the fact you're usually pantyless when your husband is home.

"C'mere, Sweetheart. Daddy needs you to do something for him, but only if you're a good girl for me, okay? Mr. Rogers has been saying some not-so-nice things about us, and I want to prove him wrong by fucking you right here on my desk. How does that sound?"

"Really?" you say softly, a small pout on your lips as you look at Lloyd, but he squeezes your hip reassuringly. It's okay. Once you give the go-ahead - your husband would never do anything without your consent, after all - he gets up, pushing you with your thighs against the desk, a soft gasp leaving your lips as you feel his erection pressing into the soft flesh of your stomach.

"You know what I love about you?" Lloyd asks, his soft gaze still focused on your curious one as his fingers glide over the skin of your cheek.

"That you're such an easy little girl, letting Daddy do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. No matter who's watching," the grumble of Lloyd's voice sends a shiver down your spine, only turning you on more as you squeeze your thighs together.

''Yes, Daddy, only for you," you whisper as you crane your neck to make eye contact, making Lloyd smile before he leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, dominating kiss that has you melting in your spot as he does. Without pulling away, he helps you up on the desk as he steps between your legs, his erection now pressing against your bare pussy.

Steve's shifting somewhat uncomfortably in his seat as he tries to adjust himself at the sight in front of him, as he sees how willing you are for your husband.

"Let's give Mr. Rogers a show he'll never forget, okay?" Lloyd asks, and you nod as you shift to lie on your back, your head hanging off the other side of the desk, facing Steve. Lloyd quickly frees his achingly hard cock, smirking as he sees your hole clenching around nothing.

The first moment his tip lines up with your dripping hole, a soft whine leaves your lips, the moment feeling even more intense as you make direct eye contact with Steve. However, the next words out of Steve's mouth have you clenching too as a soft moan escapes your lips, while Lloyd grins.

"Take it like a good girl, and stop whining."

[jisunghannie]

Save Me Now

PAIRING: Hyunjin x fem!reader

WARNINGS: Hyunjin being “toxic”, sweet apologies, pet names, unprotected sex, mentions of cheating Hyunjin, Felix is your cousin!, confessions

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend of 1 and a half years has been acting differently lately and you aren't sure why. But you know it's definitely due to a weird reason. When you found what it was, you were heartbroken only for him to pick back up the pieces. Or does he?

WORD COUNT: 3,087

A/N:

Gahh, sorry this took so long!! I was on the heaviest writer's block along with getting sick back to back. Hopefully, this will make up for it!

This is not proofread! You can get sneak peeks of that piece and other pieces of my works on @mr-hanjisung ! Also, apologies if there are grammar mistakes or anything, I hope you guys enjoy this piece!

“Did you ever get the girl who owed you debt?” You asked as he shook his head. “Funny story, Chan covered her expenses because that's his new fiancée.” He said as you laughed. “Imagine having your client as your boss's wife. That's actually so funny.” You laughed as Hyunjin nodded. “So funny indeed.” He said sarcastically as you kissed his cheek.

“I'm gonna go see if anyone else needs help, okay Jin?” You said as he just nodded. “Okay, love you.” You told him, giggling. “Me too.” He said, waving his hand to you as you left.

You felt, awkward. You and Hyunjin had been dating for 1 and a half years already. Yet he still couldn't bring himself to say, ‘I love you’ back. You didn't feel hurt by it, just wishing that he would return the words.

As you left for your work which was more “civilized”. He continued doing his own thing. You were working as your best friend walked in and gave you a big squeeze. She knew about Hyunjin, well, she knew about your boyfriend, but you never told her his name or what he did. That’s why she is skeptical but she trusts you.

“So when can I meet your mystery man?” She asked as you laughed. “We’ve been dating for a year and a half already, you know?” You reminded her as she pouted, “Exactly, a year and half and I’ve never even met the guy. I hardly know anything about him.” She said as she then gave you a serious look. “Have you guys even said the, you know, the L word?” She asked as you shook your head. “I have but him, not yet, but then again I’m his first girlfriend.” You told her as your best friend frowned. “He’s your first boyfriend too, don't forget.” She reminded you as you nodded. “I know don’t worry.” You told her as a couple came in and you served them.

You were a server and or waitress at a famous restaurant. Unfortunately, you then saw that, that couple was none other than your boyfriend and another woman.

You frowned but shook your head then immediately smiled. “Hi, welcome in. My name is y/n and I’ll be your server today.” You told them, giving your boyfriend a dirty look as he blew you a kiss. The woman he was with smacked his arm as he jerked lightly. “Yes, we'll take a table for two.” She said, her voice delicate and sweet. You nodded and led them to a table as you handed them menus. “Let me know what I can get you and call me over when you are ready.” You said as he chuckled.

You walked back as you didn't understand what was going on. You were so gonna-

“-kill him! I'm gonna kill him when we get home!” You shouted in the worker's lounge with your best friend as you sat on the couch, huffing and puffing. You were angry, which was normal. Your friend, Lily, walked over and patted you on the back. “There, there, it's okay.” She told you, “He's nothing but a lying cheat. I knew he was no good.” She said, sounding like your mother. “What's his name?” She asked as you shook your head, “It doesn't matter.” You told her as she insisted. “Are you gonna break up with him?” She asked, but before you could answer, she bombarded you with questions.

“Where are you gonna live?”

“I-”

“Are you still going to be able to work here?”

“Lily-”

“What does he do for a living?”

“Lily I-”

“How are you going to break up with him? Maybe-”

“Yang Dahee!” You shouted.

That shut her up. She knows you only use her Korean name when you are really upset. “Yes, I'm listening eomma.” She teased. “I'll deal with it.” You replied as she nodded. “If you guys end up breaking up and need somewhere to stay, call me.” She said as you nodded, walking back out to serve Hyunjin and the mysterious lady.

“Are you ready to order?” You asked as the lady giggled and looked at Hyunjin as he looked up to meet your eyes. “I'll take my usual.” He said as you gave him a fake smile as you looked at his mistress. “And for the lady?” You asked as she looked up at you, “I'll have what he's having.” She replied as you nodded and walked off, your smile faltering.

Something she didn't know was that you made his usual so if she made it to perfection and handed it to them she would've lost. But she knew better to deny service to an innocent woman when it was Hyunjin at fault. As you went into the break room, you were on your phone as you got a text from Hyunjin.

Jinnie <3: Are you jealous?

y/nnie: Of course I am!

Jinnie <3: Sorry, I had no choice. I'm marrying her due to business contracts.

y/nnie: What about me?

Jinnie <3: You are and always will be my girlfriend. My lover. My number 1.

y/nnie: Then why are you marrying her?

Jinnie <3: I'll explain when we both are home okay?

y/nnie: Why not now Hyunjin?

You were crying now for sure. Tears ran down your face as you waited for his response.

Once you finished his meal, you opened your phone.

Jinnie <3: Because it's better to talk in person about this.

You left him on seen as you wiped your face and walked out to face him. “Here are your meals.” You said as he ate and fed the woman. She got all the treatment you wanted. It wasn't fair.

“I'm sorry, I need some fresh air.” The woman said as she walked outside as he motioned for you to sit but you turned your heel to walk away as he grabbed your wrist. “Why are you running away? Aren't you gonna fight for your spot?” He asked as you flicked his arm away. “Go be happy with your fiancée. I'll get my things tonight.” You told him as he gripped your wrist tighter. “I have an event I need you to attend. Once you're there you'll understand why I have to marry her. Understood?” He said, his voice laced with danger as you nodded silently. He then kissed your cheek. “Good girl.” He said as he released you.

You walked away from him, rubbing your wrist. You sighed and wondered how you even ended up liking him. But you couldn't help the fact that you would meet him one way or another. You were Felix's cousin after all. Once Felix owed debt, Han kidnapped you all for his induction. Once he succeeded you were taken to convince Felix to join. Now it made sense why he was able to buy you such an expensive gift for your birthday.

In exchange for your life being spared, Felix had to work for them. He regretted what he did but he told you that he’d be lying if he told you that he didn't enjoy doing what he does.

After your shift, Hyunjin texted you to go home and wear the dress, bag, and heels he had bought you. You frowned, still mad at him of course. You then took a deep breath in and out as you got dressed. As you did your hair and makeup. The minute you finished, Hyunjin knocked against the door frame. You glared at him as he walked over to you.

“I knew that dress would look good on you.” He said as you sighed. “Hurry up, let's go.” You said as you walked right past him, to the car. You sat next to your cousin as he chuckled. “Let me guess. Hyunjin pissed you off.” Felix assumed as you laughed, smacking his shoulder lightly. “Is it that obvious?” You asked as Felix nodded. You then laughed as you wiped the tears from your eyes. “Good. Let him know.” You said as Felix leaned in to your ear. “To be honest, I don't think you're gonna like the event we are going to.” He whispered as he continued, “It's literally Hyunjin's engagement party.” Felix finished as he pulled away.

You looked horrified as Hyunjin saw your face across from the limo. He immediately texted you.

Jinnie <3: You okay?

y/nnie: I'm fine

Jinnie <3: Are you sure? You look like Felix just told you that someone died

y/nnie: I said I'm fine Jin.

Jinnie <3: If you say you are then I believe you

y/nnie: Thank you

But it was still eating you up inside. You didn't understand why it was but when you guys walked in, Hyunjin walked over to the mysterious woman who was at the cafe with him. He then linked arms with her as they walked in. You took a deep breath and exhaled trying to calm yourself.

Felix knew what was wrong as he massaged your shoulder lightly. “I know it hurts but you should've known. He's rich behind his loan sharks business. He's only doing this so we have more connections through his family though. Once he inherits everything he'll divorce her.” Felix whispered as you wiped your teary eyes. “What if she gets pregnant by then…” You said, really thinking the worst as Felix sighed. “If you really do love him and trust him, you would believe in him.” He said as you nodded.

As you guys went through the night, you saw him feeding her and holding her dress from dragging, he was holding her close and whispering sweet nothings in her ears. Then, he kissed her. You couldn't believe your eyes. You couldn't take it anymore so you left. You just walked out of the estate and went back to your shared home with Hyunjin. You then cried on the couch.

After an hour, Hyunjin came home, his lips smeared in lipstick. You scoffed as you packed your things. He ran over to you and grabbed your wrist. “What the hell are you doing!?” He said, his voice raised. “I can't handle this Hyunjin! I can't see you with another woman even if it's not real love!” You shouted as you tried to resist, his face furrowed. “Just stop and listen to me!” He said as you stopped resisting. “You have 3 minutes.” You said blatantly as you both sat. “Listen, I know it hurts to see but I assure you that I only have space for you in my heart and nobody else.” He said as you scoffed. “Don't give me that bullshit.” You said as he stuttered, trying to find the right words. “Exactly.” You said.

You then took off your heels and grabbed your bag that he had bought for you and threw them at him. “Keep your stupid heels and bag for your fiancée. I don't need your stupid gifts.” You told him as he smirked, “That dress is a gift of mine as well.” He said, stepping closer to you. You didn't know how to respond, but before you could turn around he snaked his arms around your waist. “So take it off.” He said bluntly as your face was now flushed. “Go ahead…” He whispered in your ear. “Strip it off…” He whispered as you bit your lip.

You knew that you shouldn't give in. But with Hyunjin saying that, you felt weak to your knees. You didn't know what to think. “Jin… I-” He stopped you and hushed you as he tugged on the string of your dress lightly. “Take it off or I will for you.” He huskily said. You don't know what happened or how it even got to this point but he was on top of you, his collar shirt unbuttoned and his tie on the floor now. Your dress was completely off. Let's just say, at least now you knew his goal wasn't to get back the dress.

“You must seduce all your women with your words…” You whispered quietly as his lips barely grazed yours. His lips now smeared in your lipstick. “Don't give me that. You know you love me.” He whispered as he pulled you in for another kiss. You waited for this moment for a while. Sure, you guys had showered together before but nothing to this extent. “Hwang Hyunjin.” You spat at him as he sighed. “I'm sorry for hurting you… really… but I promise nothing will change my feelings for you… I love you and only you. That I can promise you.” He said.

Wait, were you hearing things… “What did you say Jin?” You asked. “That I can promise you?” He answered.

“No, before that…”

“Nothing can change my feelings for you?”

“No after that.”

“That I can promise you?”

“No!”

He then chuckled lightly as he kissed you again. “I love you and only you.” He repeated as you gave him a happy gentle smile, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Hey, are you okay?” He asked, wiping your tears. “I'm just really happy… I've waited so long to hear you say those words…” You said as he kissed your cheek chuckling. “I'll say it as many times as you want as long as you stay with me.” He said as you nodded, pulling him closer to you, your bodies touching, skin to skin. His breath hitched as he composed himself. “Where were we?” He asked, running his hands through his hair. You bashfully smiled as you covered yourself lightly with your hands.

He then smirked as he ran his fingers against your inner thighs. “So you've been waiting for this or I assume?” He asked as you nodded. “How cute…” He said as he kissed your inner thighs. “I'll leave my mark on you good.” He said as you stayed silent. He then moved your hand, covering your breasts. “I've seen your whole body baby… no need to hide it anymore.” He whispered against your inner thigh. “I know you get off to me seeing you naked.” He said as he chuckled.

“No I don't…” You replied, squeezing his shoulders as he kissed your clit gently. “It’s okay baby… you are so cute when you squeeze me like that…” He said as he hovered over you. “You seem wet enough.” He said rubbing his fingertips against your wet folds. You then looked away, feeling embarrassed. He then kissed and bit at your earlobe gently. “Can I put it in… please..?” He pleaded in your ear. His voice husky and low but whiny as you gave in and nodded gently. You could feel him smile against your ear.

You then felt his cock smack against your stomach. You then looked down and blushed, realizing just how big he really was. “Will it even fit?” You asked as Hyunjin shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.” He said as he aligned himself against you. Your breath hitched as you felt the tip hit your entrance. “Make sure to loosen up.” He told you, he then placed your hands on his shoulders as he looked at you reassuringly. “You ready?” He asked as you nodded. He then pushed himself inside as you just gasped, not knowing what to really say.

“You're so tight…” Hyunjin said as you dug your nails into his shoulders. “Jin…” You squirmed out as he gave a gasp. “Don't clamp…” He said, massaging small circles on your stomach. “You're doing so good…” He whispered as his long hair covered half of his face. You pushed the hair out of his face as you nodded. “I'm ready…” You whispered back as he kissed your forehead, beginning to move slowly.

“Jinnie…” You moaned out as he held onto your hips. “Shh… I know… you're doing so good…” He hushed as you kept moaning. He then began to speed up as you looked down to see how it looked. God, you didn't realize that you had been holding back on such a good feeling. “Hey, my eyes are up here.” He said squeezing your hips, causing you to look up. “There are your pretty eyes, enjoying the… hah… view..?” He groaned out as you nodded. “You're lucky that I gave you that dress… but I knew you looked better without it…” He said as you nodded.

After a while he then shifted and did deep and slow thrusts. “Jinnie…” You moaned out. With how slow he went, you felt every little part of his cock inside you. You felt how big he was and how he reached in every-

“Right there..!” You moaned out grabbing the sheets as he smirked. “What's right there hmm?” He teased. “Jinnie… stop being mean…” You whined as he chuckled. “Honest, honest, what do you need there..?” He asked, still obviously teasing. “It feels good…” You told him as he smirked. “What feels good?” He teased, still hitting your g-spot. “The way you hit that spot…” You whined as he traced his fingers on your stomach still slowly moving inside. “What spot?” He asked, feigning innocence. You whined as he just laughed at you. “Fine, how do you want it baby?” He asked as you pulled him close. “I don't care, just hurry up…” You said as he smirked, ramming into you at such speed.

“My abilities as a dancer help a lot, you know…” He groaned out. He then felt you tighten up around him as you moaned out in ecstasy that he had to kiss you to quiet you down. “Shh…” He hushed as you giggled. “God, you're cock drunk.” He said as you nodded, tracing your fingers on his chest. He chuckled as he pulled out and came on your stomach. “I swear. You are crazy for that being your first time.” He said as you nodded. “It's not that impressive.” You replied as he ruffled your hair and you pushed him. He got back up and took you to the bathroom. “Let's wash up and go to sleep.” He said as you nodded.

After a long bath together, you guys got ready for bed. “Oh please, you almost fell asleep because I was massaging the shampoo in your hair so good.” You said as he continued to deny it. “No, you were so embarrassed because I had to clean you up because you were too tired.” He said as you gasped, faking hurt feelings as he laughed and shoved you lightly. “I love you.” He said as you smiled, “I love you too.”

Taglist:

@annybah @softkisshyunjin @queenmea604 @hyunmikim @stayceebs97 @boi-bi-ahaha @lilinaskzz @cookiesandcreammy

[ham1lton]

47 with FA14 please :)

047. the inside of an elevator that won’t move w/ FA14.

— part of a series of drabbles! <3

you were incredibly annoyed. so annoyed in fact, that you were this close to quitting this job. your very cushy hybrid job which paid incredible and gave you your own office even though you mostly worked from home. toto, your boss, had given you the alonso case which meant that you’d be working through your sister’s wedding. the same wedding you’d booked off months ago.

you get in the elevator, slightly fuming, as an older man also got in the elevator with you. he turns to you.

“floor three please.” he asks politely, as you’re standing next to the buttons. you seethe but press the button for him.

as the two of you stand in silence, the elevator suddenly stops. you give each other a panicked look. the silence between the two of you is heavy, only broken by the occasional faint hum of the elevator’s machinery. you click the help button and after a short conversation with the very unhelpful guy on the other end, you’re told help will arrive in half an hour.

“great! just what i fucking needed.” you mutter. he turns to you. “what? like this is a great situation for you either?”

“no, obviously not.” he says, in very accented english.

“so don’t give me that look.” you roll your eyes.

he raises his hands defensively. "okay, okay. truce?"

you sigh, realizing you're being unfair. it’s not like it’s his fault. "yeah, sorry. it's just been a really bad day."

"tell me about it," he says, leaning against the elevator wall. "what’s got you so worked up?"

"my boss just dumped this huge case on me last minute," you say, frustration bubbling up again. "it’s for this big client, alonso or something. now i have to miss my holiday because of it. i had the time off booked for months."

he raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "alonso? that's tough."

"yeah, and all because some big shot can't finalize a business contract on time," you grumble. “what’s so important about this stupid contract anyways?”

he looks away, as if contemplating something. "sounds like a real pain. what do you do, exactly?"

"i'm a corporate lawyer. and you?"

he hesitates for a moment before answering, "i'm... in business. finance, mostly."

you roll your eyes. "well, mr. finance, at least you’re not stuck working on a weekend for some unreasonable client."

the silence that follows feels heavier than before, and he shifts uncomfortably. "yeah, must be tough," he says quietly.

you frown, feeling slightly guilty for venting so much. "sorry, i didn't mean to unload on you. it's just been a lot."

he nods, offering a small, understanding smile. "i get it. sometimes things don’t go the way we planned."

you both fall silent for a second, the hum of the elevator the only sound, as you wait for help to arrive. then, as if compelled to fill the void, you continue. "it's just... my sister's wedding this weekend. i've been looking forward to it for months. and now, because of this contract, i'm going to miss it. i don't even know why it's so urgent."

he shifts again, looking like he wants to say something but isn't sure if he should. "maybe the client has their reasons," he offers carefully. "not that it makes it any easier for you."

"yeah, well, whoever they are, i hope their business crashes and burns," you mutter darkly. "no contract is worth missing something so important."

there's another pause before he speaks again, his voice softer this time. "sometimes, it's hard to see the bigger picture when you're in the thick of it."

you look at him, a hint of curiosity mixed with your frustration. "you sound like you know a lot about this."

he gives a half-smile as he shrugs, almost rueful. "more than i'd like to admit."

before you can ask more, the elevator jerks and starts moving again. you both breathe a sigh of relief as the doors slide open. he gestures for you to go first. "after you."

as you step out, you glance back at him. "thanks for listening. and sorry for the rant."

"anytime," he says, his smile warm but his eyes holding a hint of something you can't quite place. "good luck with that contract. and i hope you find a way to make it to your sister's wedding."

"thanks," you say, still feeling a bit unsettled as you walk away, wondering why his understanding smile seemed to hold more weight than a simple stranger's sympathy.

later that evening, as you’re buried in paperwork, your phone buzzes with an email notification. it's from toto. you open it, and your heart skips a beat.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

subject: urgent update on alonso case

dear l/n,

i have some unexpected news regarding the alonso contract. the client personally requested to change the deadline, granting you the weekend off. i know this is a surprise, but please take the weekend to attend your sister's wedding.

best,

toto.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

your mind races as you read the email again. how did the client know about your situation? you stare at the screen, the pieces slowly clicking into place. the man from the elevator—the one who listened so intently, who seemed to know more than he let on—he must be connected to alonso.

the realisation brings a mix of emotions: relief, slight embarrassment, gratitude, and a touch of something warmer. you can't help but smile, remembering his kind eyes and supportive words. your phone beeps again.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

subject: dinner invitation

dear y/n,

i hope this message finds you well. i wanted to extend an invitation for dinner sometime this week. it would be a pleasure to meet in person and discuss matters beyond business.

please let me know if you're interested and i hope you enjoy the wedding.

warm regards,

fernando alonso.

ceo of alonso corp.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

author’s note: i don’t actually write for fernando but this was calling to me so i decided to fulfil the prompt. i hope this isn’t too ooc. my bad. also reader and ceo!alonso go on the date and fall in love and the week before their wedding he pretends to get her on a contract all over again bc he thinks its funny.

[thehouseofurmotha]

Can you write Toga x rookie Frm!hero she convinces to join the LOV

Of course! I hope you enjoy :) Reader is freshly 18 in this story :))

Pairing: Toga x Fem!Hero reader,

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence and absusive child hoods

Summery: After being forced to by a hero by the commission, you meet a girl that changed something in you.

You had freshly been a hero for two weeks. You would say it's been the worst two weeks of your life, but that wouldn't be the truth. Because every week of your life since you were five has been absolute hell.

You were gifted with an extremely strong ice quirk, one the commission thought would be perfect for a hero. They came to you and your family, promising whatever they would need or ever want if they simply gave you up and cut all ties.

Growing up in a poor family that had been struggling with 6 other children. They didn't even think twice before accepting the offer.

You had been excited, at the idea of being a hero. To be able to save people everyday like the ones you see on tv. Until you learned the truth of what your life would be like from now on.

They practically tortured you, forcing you to strengthen your quirk into the greatest weapon it could be. Because that's all you were to them, a weapon.

You didn't want to live like this, you wanted to have a family, to have a life. To have a name. The commission had stripped you of your identity and turned you into Glacier, the hero that was too cold for her own good.

You weren't the sweet smiley hero that everyone had expected you to be after you made your Debut. You were cold to everyone and angry at the world. But nonetheless you quickly started gaining popularity due to your strong power, and ability to quickly take down buildings.

The world saw you as this hero, but to yourself you were nothing but a government approved killer. The commission didn't care about saving people, no they just force you to kill the ones who do wrong. You wish people knew, what went on behind the scenes. You wish the public hated you, because you deserved it. You were a puppet and the commission was pulling the strings.

You continue on your patrol, walking through allies waiting to see something that you need to stop. You hear footsteps behind you, quickly turning around to be met with a girl who seems to be around the same age as you.

She smiles, one thy could scare most people. But not you, not with the things you've seen. "Aren't you a cutie! I could just eat you up!!" She has such a happy voice, but you can see the knife in her hand. So you know that chances are this encounter isn't going to go well.

It clicks, in your mind who she is. Himiko Toga, a member of the league of villains. "You're Toga aren't you?" You doubt that she'd confirm it, but it was worth a try you thought.

"Mhm! And you're the new hero Glacier! I couldn't find what your actual name is though.. Anyways! I was sent by Mr boss man to come find you!" The last part of her sentence throws you off. The leader of the league sent her to come find you. Which in your mind could only mean one thing, that she was here to kill you. You immediately get into a defensive mode, ready to surround her in ice at a moments notice.

"Woah! Don't worry I'm not here to kill you silly!" You wonder what other reason she could be here then. None of it makes sense, you don't understand what the league would want with you.

"Then what are you here to do?" You know that you could capture her right now, freeze her right now and be the one who captures her. But some part of you is compelling you to let you hear what she has to say.

"Well! To put it simply cutie! We want you to be apart of the league!" She says with the widest smile like she isn't talking to a pro hero currently.

"And why do you think I would do that? I should freeze you right now and turn you in." You mumble the last part, but you can tell she still heard it.

"Well you haven't yet, sooo! And because you'd be a perfect fit silly! We've seen your interviews; seen how angry you are at the world. You can come with us! You can change the way the world is today! C'mon Glacier! Turn the world into something you want it to be!" The fact that you're even considering her offer scares you. You're a hero you shouldn't be thinking like this, but the idea of taking revenge on those who have hurt you is more temping than you'd like to admit.

She must have noticed that you were deep in thought because she broke the silence. "C'mon I can tell you're thinking about it cutie! Let's get revenge on everyone who has hurt us together!" You think about Keigo, the only person who knew the real you. He had gone through the exact same thing you had. He was like an older brother to you, the only semblance to a family you've ever had.

You sigh, "take your knife out and come here." You've decided you want to control your life. You want to be who you want to be, not what others expect you to be.

"Huh? Why silly! I'm not supposed to hurt you, just bring you back!" Why doesn't she want to hurt you, isn't that her whole thing? It thoroughly confused you.

"Well unless you want every hero in the country swarming your hide out, you've got to cut the tracker out of my neck." She smiles even wider at that. The commission had decided that you shouldn't be trusted, after you had tried to escape multiple times. So they forced a tracker into you, and threatened to kill you if you tried to take it out yourself.

"Oh my gosh!! Yay! We're gonna have so much fun together Glacier you don't understand! I'm so happy to finally have another girl in the league." She skips over to you pulling her knife out. You turn around and pull your hair back. You can't believe you're trusting this absolute psycho.

You hiss in pain as she slices the back of your neck. It's not something you can't handle though. Quickly you feel her fingers pull the little device out of your neck. You quickly freeze the skin together, stoping the bleeding and allowing for it to heal much quicker than it would before.

"Is that the only one? I'd love to do it again!!" The deranged smile she gives you makes you chuckle. You don't know why you find it funny but for some odd reason you do.

"Yeah it is, I've been completely checked for any others." This makes you think of Keigo. The night the two of you had spent checking every inch of each other's body for trackers. In any other situation than the one you guys were in, it probably would have been awkward. But you guys understand that it was information you needed if you ever wanted to get out.

"Okay!! C'mon then let's go back to the hide out! Twice is going to love you!" She grabs your hand and starts leading you away. You know that you're going to have second choices about your decision, but there's no going back now. You've made your choice, and your choice is revenge on the people who have hurt you.

As you walk she starts to talk to you. "Are you gonna tell us your real name? Or are you gonna be like Dabi who won't tell us.. he's such a meanie!" She rambles on, you think it's sweet. You wonder what happened to get her here.

"Oh it's Y/n." This is the first time you've gotten to introduce yourself with your name. Not the one that was forced upon you.

"Ooo I love your name Y/n!!" To hear your name come from a persons mouth gives you a comfort that you didn't know you needed.

"So, what happened to you that you ended up here?" You decide to be rather blunt about it. That's always just been the way you are.

"Ohh! Well I was tired of people telling me who to be! I wanted to be able to express my love the way I wanted! Not how everyone else wanted me to!" Even though it sad, she still keeps a happy face. "Look!! We're here Y/n!!" She opens the door in front of you and the first thing you see is a bar is the man with the warp power behind it, and the leagues leader sitting at it. You take a harsh breath. Preparing yourself to accept your new life.

"Hm so you were successful Toga, good job." The warp guy is the first to speak. "Welcome to the League Glacier, make yourself comfortable as this will be your new home for the time being. My name is Kurioguri, the one sitting at the bar is Tomura Shigaraki. The league's leader." You nod in response and before you can say anything Toga interrupts.

"Her name is Y/n actually!! She told me on the way here! Isn't it pretty! Twice! Come here you've got to meet her!!" Kurioguri, must sense that Toga is mildly stressing you out.

"Toga, relax you're going to scare her away and that's the last thing we want to happen." Even if you want to show him appreciation for it, it's just not how you are.

"She's fine." Your voice comes out cold, and harsh. But you could honestly care less.

"Hm little hero's got some bite to her." A man with black hair appears out of one of the rooms in the back.

"Dabiiii shushhh!" Toga says walking over to him and pulls her knife out. He just pushes her away and scoffs.

"I don't know why you guys trust her, she's probably just here to gather intel for her little hero friends." You send him a glare. The only one of those assholes who was your friend was Keigo.

"Like hell I'd put myself in that much danger for those fucking assholes. They weren't my friends. They were shitty people who wanted me to do their fucking dirty work starting the day I turned 18." This seems to shut him up as he raises his hands in defeat.

"You were right Kurioguri she'll make a perfect addition." The leader, Shigaraki finally speaks. "She has the same itch for revenge." You can slightly see his eye through the hand on his face.

"So little hero, what exactly is your quirk." He says walking towards you. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"I can freeze any thing with molecules of water, including your blood which I'm going to do if you don't get the fuck off me." You think about just pushing him off but threatening him is much more fun.

"Alright damn, you're no fun." He takes his arm off your shoulder and walks away letting himself fall onto the couch.

Toga grabs your hand telling you about how she's got to show you around and show you her room. She's so excited about it and you realize that this is your life now. And you don't think you're too mad about it.

It turned out a little shorter than I wanted but I hope you enjoyed it!! As always requests are open open and happy reading <3

[solomons-finest-rum]

Welcome back! I have been enjoying your writing but never sent you request before. Would you write maybe Alfie and a younger reader and he likes her. He wants to marry her but she is not ready so he tells her he would wait forever and it's really sweet and patient. something like that I don't know. you can decide if you like it. Thank you!

“Libretto” — (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader)

SUMMARY — Age difference between you be damned, Alfie was quite happy to wait for you forever.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you so much for the request! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ Feedback is always much appreciated.

WORD COUNT — 1,678

Masterlist

The first time you met Alfie Solomons was purely an accident. At least, you had to lie and swear to the police that it had all been an accident, if only in order to wriggle yourself out of getting arrested.

Now, had you known the man you nearly ran over with your brother’s car was the gangster boss of Camden Town, you could have been persuaded to drive a little more carefully. Especially since the car had been “borrowed” as well.

But, of course, how could you have known? Which was precisely the reason why the first words you uttered to the man were:

“Watch where you’re fucking going!” 

All due credit to Alfie Solomons, he couldn’t have been more shocked.

Now, you have to understand that a man like Alfie Solomons, a particularly dangerous man like Alfie Solomons, usually wasn’t shocked by much. It was not every day, however, that he met a girl with eyes so full of rage, driving a fancy Bentley so obviously outrageous and most likely stolen. It was more than enough to get his interest.

“Well?!” you shouted again as you got out of the car. 

It wasn’t until two police officers approached you, however, that you changed your tune. Immediately spotting your confusion, it was time for Alfie to enter the game.

“Alright, Mr. Solomons?” one of the policemen asked, feigning concern, though both of them were so obviously in Alfie’s pocket that they would have arrested you on the spot—had Alfie still not been so mesmerised by your outburst. And so, to your astonishment, they simply awaited his orders.

To Alfie’s absolute delight, you tried your best not to show how scared you were at that moment, so Alfie took his sweet fucking time before saying:

“Right, gentlemen, thank God you’re here, ‘cause there I was, mindin’ me own business, yeah, an’ there she comes, driving like the Devil’s on her tail, hair a mess—!”

“I beg your pardon, my hair is not a mess!”

“Right now it is, yeah.”

“No, it is not!”

“Are ya suggestin’ I should lie about what I saw, Miss?”

“So you… want us to arrest the lady, sir?” one of the policemen interrupted that exchange, incredulous at the interaction between you and Alfie. 

It served Alfie right, however, since his reputation had always been one to take care of the women in his community. As things were between him and the law, that charity probably remained the only thing between him and the noose.

“Nah, ‘course not,” Alfie waved his hand dismissively. “She’s clearly in a hurry, ain’t ya, luv?” Alfie asked you, with a smirk so devious you felt your cheeks going hot.

“Yes,” you said meekly, then saw Alfie make a face to encourage you to keep going. To spin the tale. 

“I… You see, it’s my grandmother,” you said smoothly and Alfie’s smirk only grew. “That’s my brother’s car, he let me borrow it to fetch the doctor. It’s consumption, you see. Overtakin’ her as we speak.”

As the cherry on top, you stifled a fake sniff.

“Now you see, gentlemen, it’s a case of utmost emergency!” Alfie shouted, waving his cane about and obviously taking great pleasure in participating in your lie. “Thank you for your service, lads, there ya go.” 

As the policemen gladly accepted a not-so-discreet bonus to their payment, you saw your chance and started to get back to the car.

But you thoroughly underestimated Alfie’s game.

“There now, I’ll drive ya, luv, you can never be too careful in these parts,” he said and quickly, quicker than you anticipated for the man, he made himself comfortable in the driver’s seat.

“Wouldn’t want any more accidents on the way, now would we, luv?” Alfie grumbled as he promptly handed you his cane and proceeded to fumble with the breaks and the accelerator as if he was trying to tame the car, not run it.

“There we go,” he announced as the engine sputtered and roared and you two sped along the street in a no less reckless manner than you had been driving before.

“Watch out!” you shrieked as Alfie almost drove straight into a flower cart on the corner.

“Don’t worry, luv, I know the way!” Alfie replied, then made a sharp turn towards London Bridge.

“You do?!”

“Right, not exactly, no, but it’s plain as day you’re not from Camden, luv.”

“What gave it away…” you sniped. 

“Now, don’t get cocky, right, ya still almost ran me over an’ I have to tell ya, luv, that takes balls, right! ‘Cause as things stand, the bounty for me is as high as they go.”

You paled at the notion and when Alfie glanced at your expression in between the turns, he roared with laughter.

“Naaah, luv, don’t be like that! Just pullin’ your leg.”

“Very funny.”

“I like to think so, yeah.”

Obviously too pleased with himself to notice, Alfie missed you paying close attention to the cane you were still holding. It was definitely heavy and so well-used that you had trouble distinguishing what used to be the shape of its head.

“Right, seein’ as you almost ended me on my own bloody street, luv, you might as well give me your name,” Alfie interrupted your musings, not too pleased about your close inspection of his personal belongings (even though the contradicting bastard gave it to you for self-keeping himself).

But you gave him your name regardless and he remarked he thought it pretty. When you also gave him your address, he drove you straight home and even got out first to open the door for you. You thanked him quickly for what you supposed was straight up hijacking the car, but seeing as you had done so first to your brother, you thought the deeds even. You only prayed no one would see you with Alfie through the window. You knew your sisters would never let you forget it had they seen you two together.

You couldn’t have known that wouldn’t be the last time you saw Alfie Solomons. Somehow throughout the following weeks you seemed to have more chance encounters together than the Fates could possibly allow.

He was always pleasant about it, though, and sometimes even brought you flowers. Then he started buying you lunches and somehow it turned into a little tradition just between you two. You ate lunch together every Thursday.

You weren’t stupid of course, you knew what Alfie was after, but truth be told… You wouldn’t exactly mind giving it to him.

He never outright proposed, but he hinted at marriage enough times that it became just one more piece of the regular fun little puzzle between you.

“An’ how’s my favourite girl this mornin’?” he would ask you when he met you for a stroll.

“Very well, thank you, Alfie,” you’d reply, your tone thoroughly overdone on the casual side. 

“Not too cold?”

“No.”

“Not too hungry?”

“Don’t think so.”

“So how ‘bout you marry me today, luv?”

“Oh, I can’t, Alfie!” you giggled as you looped your arm through his and let him lead you around the park. “I’m—”

“Right, let me guess,” he smirked. “Got my shirt inside out again?”

“No, the shirt is very clean today. That’s very unlike you.”

“Well, that’s a first.”

“Well, I told you not to fire your housekeeper, haven’t I?” 

“Yeah, no harm done, I offered that old bat her bloody job back,” he grumbled and you giggled again.

“You’ll thank me later, Alfie.”

“I’m sure I won’t, luv.”

“You’re one stubborn man, d’you know that?”

“Yeah, can’t say I’ve never been told that one before.”

“So why can’t I marry you today, Alfie? You promised to guess.”

“Right, how’s about you’re too cold?”

“No, the weather’s quite nice.”

“Too hot?”

“Not really.”

“Too old?”

“Close.”

“Too young?”

You paused and so did he, because he somehow sensed this time it wasn’t just a game between you two. This time it wasn’t just banter; it was real.

“Luv, if I’m makin’ you do anythin’ you wouldn’t want to—”

“No!” you interrupted that train of thought as quickly as possible and took his hand in yours. “No. It’s just that… I don’t think I’m ready to be a wife, yet.”

“Right, in what way?”

“In… In every way, I suppose. I have no idea about running a household or ironing shirts or…”

“Right, thankfully yours truly has already been told he’s a slob.”

“Alfie, this is serious!”

“Right.”

He looked at you expectantly. You still haven’t let go of his hand, which he thought was rather promising.

“I just think I’d make a lousy wife, Alfie.”

“Yeah, that’s that then, luv, right, ‘cause look at the pair of us, I’d be a real lousy husband.”

That got him another giggle out of you, which he thought might have boosted his chances a little.

“Luv, if your parents don’t approve—”

“My parents don’t give two shits, Alfie, I’m not a princess or an heiress,” you chuckled. “I have two younger sisters and two brothers, as far as my chances stand I’d be happy if I scored a baker or some sort.”

“Right, funny you should say that…”

“A front doesn’t count, you madman!”

Even though you knew you crossed a line there by the way he looked around you two, he never did anything to chastise you or show his disapproval at the revelation you just uttered at full volume. In a way, it already told you everything there was to know about the man, had his previous behaviour not been proof enough that he cared about you a great deal.

You already knew you wanted to marry him, age difference between you be damned. So what were you so afraid of exactly?

“Luv, you already know I’m happy to wait for you forever if—”

You shook your head and got on your tiptoes to kiss him mid-speech, since you already knew that a speech was coming. The answer was, with Alfie by your side, you wouldn’t be afraid of anything.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can you write something with caddie reader and Rafe going to the country club and booking her as caddie? thankss

Pardon my terrible golf knowledge...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The written duty of a caddie-girl is to carry the golf bag for the golfer. Although it sounds like an easy job, you are required to have a little golf knowledge…and let your mini skirt do the rest as people who golf at the country club are mostly men.

They won’t mind if you give them the wrong club as long as you giggle when you make a mistake or wear a short enough skirt. It’s pretty degrading and objectifying for women, but rich men give nice tips.

‘’I’m so sorry, Jeff. My alarm didn’t go off and my car wouldn’t start,’’ you explained in a rush to your boss, out of breath from running to the country club. ‘’It won’t happen again, I promise.’’

‘’You’re an hour late, Miss. Y/L/N. Your 9am client is waiting.’’ Jeff raised his eyes from his computer screen, looking at you with disappointment.

Shit. You didn’t think you would have a client so early in the morning.

‘’He specifically requested you for caddie, so save your apologies and excuses for him.’’

It must be Mr. Barclay. You’ve seen him sitting at the country club’s bar two days ago, drinking an old fashioned with a fellow club member. He always requested you as caddie. He said you reminded him of his granddaughter. You didn’t know if you should be flattered or disgusted.

You quickly dropped your personal stuff in your locker and headed to the golf course while rehearsing your apology monologue. It wasn’t in your habits to be late. Hopefully Mr. Barclay will be understanding.

When you got to the course, you searched for a silver fox, but instead you found a tall young man with a snapback and white glove in his right hand.

‘’There you are!’’ he said in exasperation, slinging his golf bag over his shoulder and walking to you.

‘’Rafe?’’

He clicked his tongue and shook his head. ‘’It’s Mr. Cameron for you,’’ he corrected with a shit-eating grin on his stupidly handsome face.

‘’You’re my 9am client?’’

Rafe hummed, his eyes scanning your body and smiling smugly when he saw your small skirt and tight polo. It hugged your curves in all the right places. ‘’Bet you were expecting some rich daddy, uh? I’m sorry to disappoint you.’’ He leaned closer, speaking the next words low enough so only you would hear them. ‘’If you want, you can call me Daddy Rafe.’’

You choked on air. Today was going to be a long day.

‘’Driver, please?’’ Rafe requested, when you arrived at the teeing ground.

You fished the right club from the bag and handed it to Rafe. ‘’Here.’’

‘’Thanks, babydoll.’’ He took the club and moved up to line it with the ball, and swung, his muscles flexing.

You both watched as it flew over a hundred yards in the air. Not bad.

‘’Where’s Topper?’’ you asked. ‘’You usually play with him.’’

‘’Not today. I had other plans.’’ Rafe gave you the club back. ‘’Shall we go find the ball?’’

You spent the next two hours walking along the steep cliffs and hills of the country club's golf course, watching Rafe swinging golf balls and showing off. Unfortunately, you didn’t care much for the sport. You were more interested in staring at Rafe’s muscles flexing and admiring how great his ass looked in those dress shorts.

‘’Want to have a try?’’

‘’Are you sure? I’ve never played golf before.’’

‘’You can do the next tee. I’ll show you how.’’

‘’Golf is more technical than it looks. You don't just swing the ball and hope for the best. There's a lot of factors to think about — the stance, posture, ball placement, and rotation all have to be considered for the perfect swing.’’

‘’First, the grip. Put your left hand at the top of the club and your right hand below the left,’’ Rafe instructed.’’

‘’Good. Now, the position.’’ He situated himself behind you and you tried not to shiver as his hands slowly traveled down your arms until they positioned themselves to cover your own, grasping gently. You could feel goosebumps rise all over your body as you felt his steady breathing on your neck, looking over your shoulder with ease. ‘’Place your feet shoulder width apart and the ball should be inside the line of the big toe of your front foot.’’ He pushed your right heel out with his own foot. ‘’And you gotta bend your upper body from the knees and the knees slightly.’’

So many instructions.

You leaned forward a little while keeping your feet in the right place. ‘’Like that?’’ you asked, not sure if you were positioned correctly.

‘’Bend a bit more.’’ Rafe stepped back with a mischievous smirk, his warmth leaving your back. ‘’More. More.’’ You had a feeling that the position was wrong, but did as told. ‘’Perfect.’’ He swiped his tongue over his lips and hummed, admiring the perfect view of your ass.

‘’And now I swing?’’

‘’Not yet,’’ he said. ‘’I’m enjoying the view.’’

You straightened up immediately, catching what he was doing. ‘’Rafe!’’ you hissed with a glare over your shoulder.

He was laughing smugly. ‘’Can you blame me?’’

‘’Can you guide me again? I lost the position because of you.’’

This time, Rafe won’t make a fool of you. This time, he’ll be the one who gets played.

You took a deep breath as he moved to stand right behind you and resumed the same position he had you in previously. A soft breeze blew and you got a whiff of his expensive cologne. It reminded you of those mornings you had woken up in his bed at Tannyhill, wrapped in his sheets and covered in his scent.

Shaking that thought from your head. Focus.

‘’You’re picking up fast,’’ Rafe encouraged behind you.

‘’Do I?’’ you asked, purposely wiggling your hips against his pelvis.

You heard Rafe inhale sharply in response, his grip on your hands tightening. ‘’If you kept doing stuff like that, I might just have to take you right on the golf field.’’

Please do, you almost let slip.

At the next tee, you ran into Mr. Barclay and one of your co-worker. He was one of the newbies and seemed to be struggling with the golf bag.

‘’Mr. Barclay, hi,’’ you greeted politely. ‘’How’s the course today? We’ve made new additions this year.’’

The older man greeted you back with a smile, then began ranting about how his caddie wasn’t as good as you at the job. ‘’I asked for you at the caddie shack, but I was informed my favorite caddie-girl was already booked.’’

Rafe stepped in, faking an apologetic smile. ‘’That would be because of me. My apology.’’

Mr. Barclay stared you down like you were a piece of meat and then shifted his eyes to Rafe, giving him a ‘lucky you’ kind of look before leaving with his caddie.

‘’Are your other clients all old perverts like him?’’

Most. ‘’He gives me good tips,’’ you said in defense.

Rafe pulled out his wallet, then stared you right in the eyes as he stuffed a crumpled hundred dollar bill inside your bra. ‘’I do too.’’ 

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx  @sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife  @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue  @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker  @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage​  @maybankslover

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron

[ohburgee]

Your Father's debt

tw: attempt threat, cursing, stalking (he is stalking you, you just didn't know)

You were replacing some cereal boxes on the shelving and also some bottles of noncold juice, you are hard-working right now since the time when a visitor came to your house and your father was the one looking for and you listened to their talking and you were shocked to hear that your father had debt from those people.

What makes you even more shocked is that your father owns them, 2 million and you realize that the payment for your uncle's operation and his room were paid too.

So that's where the money was from...

And you feel bad since your father doesn't have a better job his boss didn't pay him enough salary and you are also still in college you asked him to let you work but he disagreed because he doesn't want you to get involved and focus on your school.

But you try to tell and understand your father and after pleasing him he finally says yes but tells you to not let too much work on yourself and you promised him.

And now you're here working as you are done putting the products you stay at your counter waiting for some kind of customer that's what you want, you don't like those who just barge in and are rude to you when you say good day and are they just roll their eyes or even just get their product and left.

After an hour the bell rang and you looked up and saw a man, he was tall wearing a long black coat and dark grey shirt and pants and his buzz cut and a well-cut beard also he was wearing black lens shades he is quite handsome though looks like a man who owns everything.

He walks towards the drink center and you look back to your phone scrolling not minding the customer, after a minute you hear footsteps coming closer and you look up to see him carrying a bottle of energy drink and a chocolate bar, what a combination I thought he brought a beer.

You took the energy bottle and punched it with the price scanner and then the chocolate bar, when you were about to say the overall price suddenly a bell rang and a man went in, he looked tired no. He is drunk, in the morning for real!?

Then he approached the cashier counter "Hey can I have one bottle of beer" he said and you immediately looked at him "Sir you need to leave you are drunk" "No I'm not" you said with a tsk, "No sir you need to leave" you said loud and he groans and trying to balance himself "I said no!" he said fighting back at you "Sir yo-" he cut you off "I said I'M NOT DRUNK!" he shout and immediately trying to grabbed you.

Before he could do that a tall man stopped him grabbed his shirt and brought his face closer to him, "The lady said you need to leave" he said in a deep voice that sounded like threatened you to death, "Before I make this place a mess" he added and the drunk man just stare at him with fear and he immediately let go of his shirt and he ran out the convenience store.

"Thanks for that," you said and he smiled "It's $5.35," you told him the overall price and he took out a wallet and stopped and looked at you "Do you accept cards?" he asked and you looked at him puzzled "No we don't accept card only cash," you said made a small laugh and you saw him pulling back a black card inside, jeez this person is rich...

"Sorry," he said and pulled 6 dollars "I was kinda used to cards actually," he said chuckling about it "I see" You accepted the money and gave him the exchange. "No need to pack it up," he said and you nodded and gave him the bottle and the bar.

"You should be careful" he said and you looked at him "Thanks for your worries I know and I will," you said and smiled, he chuckled "Might someone point a gun at you," he said jokingly and I laughed at it.

"I will and I won't be stupid if that happens Mr rich," you said joking with him and he put his wallet in his pocket before he got out of the store, "See ya around Miss Lady," he said and got out and you made small wave.

What a nice person, you said in your mind and he also worries about your position after an hour of serving, scanning, and being kind to every customer you encountered it was going to be night and your shift was going to end this day and you saw your co-worker went in and you both exchange and now you are out the store.

You blow a breath and hug yourself in the wintered snow of Chicago well it's time to head home might your father waiting for you. As you walk through the street you feel your stomach getting empty and you don't mind you don't want to spend money you just work hard, you need this for your father's debt.

As you walk you get bumped into a person and he looked irritated "Watch your step bitch" he said and you look at him "What did you just call me!?" you said "I said watch where you're going. Bitch" he said that curse word made you boiled and he saw that you try to fight and he immediately pull something on his pocket but someone stopped him a hand grabbed on his arm.

You look up seeing the man in the store, Mr rich. The guy looked at him and immediately pulled out his hand from his pocket apologizing and walked away, dang who is this rich person why those everyone scared of him?

"Thanks again for that," you said exhaling yourself from anger, you have anger issues so. "I told you to be careful" "I am!" you said crossing your both arms "That guy almost pointed a gun at you," he said, and you shrugged "I know and I know how to defend myself," you told him "I need to get home my father is waiting for me," you said before you could walk away he grabbed your arm and you turn to look at him.

"Where's my payback for that?" he asked "Uh..." You think something yes he has saved you twice now and that think of him too much of saving you, "How about a discount in the store" "No, not interested" "I know you're rich but how about dollars," you said not your work's money for your father, your own money.

"I don't need money dear," he said and you heard your stomach make a small sound really right now, "You didn't eat?" he asked "No but I'll just eat at home," you told him "Where is your address I can take you there safety" "At West Town but thanks for the ride I'll just call taxi," you said "That's too far from here in River North since your hungry I'll buy you food my treat" he said and you look annoyed a bit "No need to-" "I insist"

.....

You both now eating inside a restaurant in River West, you didn't get to fight back and he brought you here, "Why are you working in River North when your home is far from there" he asked sipping his wine well he brought you to an expensive luxury restaurant "I studied in Columbia College with a Audio Arts degree".

"You do music?" you nodded your head and looked at his face he was impressed "I'll always encounter people with art, medicine, and engineer degrees and that's too common, and hearing yours is quite rare," he said and you nodded your head continue eating your food.

After a minute of eating and talking about your life and his small topic about his too. You both got out of the restaurant and you looked at him "Well thanks for the treat I appreciate it" you said and he chuckled and smiled "No worries" "How can I repay you for that?" before he opened his mouth a car went in front of you both and he walks towards and a man got out and opened a door for him. He is really rich.

You turn to look at him when he gets in "I forgot to introduce I just brought you there in a weird way" he said more like asking your name yeah it's weird since you both started to talk about both of your lives without knowing both of your names, you told him your name and he smiled. "Keiran," he said before he rolled up his window.

"Hey about my repay?"

"You can pay me next time dear"

So this story has 'Part Two' Don't worry I won't just leave the ending without knowing how You gonna repay my oc Keiran. Spoiler alert. He is Yandere in part two just you know why my tag is Yandere and the story is not.

Well, a long one again i don't like doing short stories (sometimes) I want my readers to read a lot haha jk, but it's entertaining to read a long short story with a bit of detail. :)

credits to the dividers: https://www.tumblr.com/cafekitsune

[runnning-outof-time]

Another little request, please don't mind the spam if you don't feel inspired c: <3 "I didn't get your name" + Arthur please!

Thanks so much for sending some extra Arthur in, Shark @call-sign-shark ! I greatly appreciate it! I know I said it before, but it was fun to end this celebration off by showing some love to him…and I wouldn’t be writing for Arthur Shelby if I didn’t add some of his violent self into one of these stories. That’s where I went with this one…trust me, it makes sense…….I think. I hope you like it! Enjoy! :)

Oh and this is the last blurb of this celebration! Thank you to all who read these!! I can’t believe I’ve finally finished writing them!

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

What A Way to Meet Your Boss

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, series typical violence, use of derogatory name

Word Count: around 1k (I’m too lazy to find the count)

Summary: (Y/N) meets one of her bosses in a rather…unconventional way. Or maybe it’s very conventional considering the company she works for.

(Y/N) had just finished her tasks for the evening. She made sure that all of her materials were put in places where she could quickly find them tomorrow before grabbing her coat and purse. She exited the Shelby Company Limited building then, ready to get home and relax.

But of course, Birmingham had different plans for her.

“Women as pretty as you shouldn’t be walking alone at night,” a man’s voice came from the darkness of the alleyway she’d just passed. (Y/N) willed her feet to keep walking, knowing that things would turn bad if she stopped and entertained this man. Maybe he’d give up.

But it didn’t pan out that way.

Shoes then scuffed on the concrete as his quick steps were heard behind her. “I’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you, bitch,” he sneered. (Y/N) quickened her pace. “Fuckin’ get back here!” His angered words were accompanied by a rough hand, and (Y/N) was left defenceless as the man effortlessly pulled her back and into his grips. Her eyes widened as the man’s forearm came into contact with her throat. “Gonna make you pay for ignoring me,” he seethed, his mouth right against her ear. “How about you make it easy for yourself?”

The man couldn’t follow through on what he was going to do because the next thing he knew, he was getting the wind knocked out of him; his arms falling slack from (Y/N)’s frame. She didn’t even stop to look and see what had happened, instead moving as fast as she could to get away from the altercation just as it sounded like someone started to deliver a barrage of punches onto her assailant.

It didn’t take (Y/N) long to notice that there wasn’t even much of a fight when she did finally turn around. The man who had his arm wrapped around her neck seconds ago was now curled into a ball on the ground as he tried to stop the madman that had come to her rescue. Even she flinched as the second man landed one more vicious punch before standing tall over the beaten man.

“Please, please…please be done,” the man pleaded, his voice and body shaking.

“You should know better than to fuck with the Peaky Blinders,” the man standing above him bellowed, his voice one that (Y/N) was familiar with, but couldn’t quite put the name to.

“I…I didn’t know that she was a Peaky woman, Mr. Shelby,” the man made an excuse, still pleading for his life. He couldn’t tell if the animal of a man standing above him was finished or not. Hell, he should have known better than to choose to hang around this part of town. Who would have known there would have been a Shelby in the area though, let alone the worst out there all?

“Peaky woman or not, you lay another fucking finger on any woman and I’ll fucking cut them off. You understand me?” the Shelby man threatened.

“Yes, yes,” the man on the ground was nodding his head profusely within seconds of hearing the other’s threats…which should really be considered promises.

“Now get the fuck outta here before I decide to do it now.” That was all the man needed to hear to scramble to his feet and hurry away from the area. It was evident in his limp that he’d been beaten pretty badly, but that didn’t stop him from running as fast as he could. The man left behind couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched him leave. When he’d finally turned a corner and was out of sight, the man turned to (Y/N). “You alright?” he asked, making his way over to her then.

“Yeah,” she answered with an exhaled breath. “You came before he could do anything. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he brushed her gratitude off, shaking his head slightly. His peaked cap had been returned to his head and was now pulled down, shielding his eyes from her, but she couldn’t miss his prominent mustache. “I could walk you home if you want,” he offered.

“I live a block away,” she answered, a polite smile present on her face.

“Safe travels,” he nodded to her, starting to turn back towards the company building the she’d just left.

“I didn’t get your name,” she quickly called after him, the words leaving her mouth before she could think better of them. She knew he was a Shelby man, but she didn’t know which Shelby man he was.

Her voice made the man stop and turn back to face her. “Arthur Shelby,” he answered simply, lifting his head enough for her to catch a glimpse his full features as they were illuminated by the streetlight.

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby,” she thanked him again, sending a grateful smile his way.

“Happy to have ya workin’ for us, love,” he said, sending a closed mouth smile her way before turning again so that he could walk back to the building she’d left a short while ago.

(Y/N) watched him enter the building before she turned and hurried the rest of her way home. She let out a sigh of relief once she was behind her locked door. What a way to meet your boss, she thought to herself, shaking her head as she headed to her bedroom. What a way indeed.

*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out

MASTERLIST

[ghostieyanyan]

Yandere! Kalim x reader, but yandere but they're bad at their jobs au. Like one minute Kalim act all sadistic and dark then the next thing when reader asked if he wants some pets he went to his usual happy sunshine puppy that demands pets

yes~~ presious baby boi just wants love but he so spoil x3

what i also like to think about with yandere kalim is that he knows right and wrong but its so water down for him that "he just cant help it ^^

For fun, im making this into a modern mafia au ^^

~Just trying to help~

Yan!Boss!Kalim x Worker!mc

Warnings: power dymanmic, mafia mention, violence mention, nsfw hints, death?, manipulation

~~~~~

The Asim, they are known for their wealth and their trades. They're a super big powerful family with a lot of people (both loyal and not loyal) under them. They kind of give "untouchable kings" vibes. Theyre still really nice to their "people", you just don't see them a lot, or at all really. The only way to really "talk to them" is by talking to someone in their circle but there are layers into that circle. some people thinks that their family is shady, like the rich people act is a persona to hide something but no one really has proof.

But you really don't have to worry about that. You have your own stuff to worry about, like living expenses. You were basically living on the streets, barely living. You did side jobs to get by. maybe you'll clean or maybe you'll babysit. when you were a kid, you always wanted to help people. But with your home life, money, you couldn't really get to your dreams even if you tried. you stopped school pretty early and its a little too late for you to get back into it. plus what school will accept you. you lived in a community where rich gets richer and medium class becomes poor... I guess that's where you are, what your luck...

you were heading to your next "job" place. you had to clean for a really sweet old couple, the Wrights. They couldn't afford much either but they try to help you whenever they can. Example, you clean places that they cant reach, in exchange they give you dinner, as much as they can. you always wish them good health. they are too sweet for this unfair world.

you were lost in your head, enjoying the memories and conversation you had with them. But when you to their place, you see 3 grown men towering over Mr. Wright.

"please understand.. we aren't here for trouble but your son does owe us some money. were just here to collect."

"please.. we havent seen our son in months. hes not here."

"come on, blue carb! i wanna go home! if you dont tell us-"

"Floyd, we aren't here for threats."

"hmm..? oh my... what do we have here?"

the light hair man turn to you with a very scary smile. You didnt have time to take even a step when one of the men grabs you by the arm. he had teal hair with a black stirp. he had awful smile that showed off his sharp teeth.. the smile looked every threatening..

"were just here to talk about business, why dont you scram shrimpy."

you started to tremble and turned to Mr. Wright. he gave you a weak smile and moved his hand like to shoo you away.

"go on dear. it'll be okay."

you gulped in terror but you dug your heels into the ground. if you didn't, who knew what these shady guys would do to this kind old couple.

"h-he.. said he hasn't seen his son! n-ow get out of here before i call the police!!"

"..."

".."

"..."

everyone got quiet.. no one moved.. the men seem stun by your outburst. the man, that was holding you, didn't seem to like your outburst and gripped your arm, harder. it hurts..!

"tck.. im getting really annoyed, shrimpy... Should break your arm to show you-"

"actually Floyd, i have a better idea."

the light hair man walks up to you and hands you a card.

"i am Azul Ashengrotto. i run a cafe called the Mostro Lounge and Mr. Wright's son has owe us a pretty penny~"

The way he spoke gave you chills. You hated it. it was too sweet when you knew that the words he spoke are laced with poison.

"What if-..."

You had to take a long deep breath, you're risking a lot for even thinking this... but you had to. you were the only able person to protected these people who gave you more than you've asked.

"what if... i worked for you..? i'll work for you, pay off the owe money and you'll have to leave Mr. and Mrs. Wright alone! Deal..?"

the light hair man pauses.. then smiled. he put his hand out for a handshake.

"Its a Deal."

when you took his hand, that was it. you had to say goodbye to your home away from home. you gave mr.wright a smile and left with the strange men...

~~~

the next few weeks you learned what they did, kind of, and what they needed of you. they didn't tell you 100% of everything but you were supposed to be their servant, or an errand boy, or something like that?

the job wasn't bad at all. you cleaned, get anything they need, run things for them. sometimes they call you for... personal reasons. In exchange you get 3 meals a day and a comfortable room. which honestly, you weren't complaining. before, you would have one meal a day and even sleep on either a hard floor or a gross mattress. At this rate, after you finish paying off the Wright's debt, you might just stay here.

sometimes the job brings pretty scary people that show up out of nowhere. they often had big weapons to their side, some would have the weapons ready and loaded. Jade, Floyd, or Azul often gets you out of the way and most times tell you to cover your ears and close your eyes. sometimes they have you clean up their messes after these scary men... "leave." you knew better but you cant really say or do anything about it so.. you just don't question it.

after a month, you thought you get used to your new home life now but- you accidentally ran into someone or someone ran into you.

"oh my-! are you okay? im so sorry!! i-"

"no no! its okay. i should have been more careful."

the mysterious man helped you up. he had bright red eyes and white white that complement his dark skin every nicely. he had a black dress shirt and a red suit with gold accents, red dress pants to match. when he helped you up, you notice he's hands are really soft. big contrast to your hands.

"I'm sorry again."

he was about to run away but stopped and sheepishly turn and smile at you. it kind of reminded you of a happy teenage.

"actually... do you know where the Mostro lounge is? i... i think im lost. hehe." he scratched the back of his head. the embrassement on his face was slowly growing on you because he kept smiling.

it was kinda weird to see someone around here with such a bright smile..? like an genuine smile or maybe hes just a good actor or something..? you cant say.

"oh.. its a left then a right." you poked.

"kk! thank you~"

he turned and ran away again. you were about to leave but he stopped you again.

"can you actually walk with me there..? i asked directions before and got lost.. hehe~ pretty please?"

with his charming smile, you couldnt help but smile back.

"okay, follow me."

during your walk there, he asked a few question. they were harmless questions, enough. favorite colors? favorite food? favorite animals? where have you been? favorite places to go? etc.

when you got there a tall man with dark skin and long beautiful black hair rushed to your side, well more like to the other man.

He had the same outfit as the white hair man but they both wore it differently. which wasnt a bad thing. it compliment their personalities. Like jade, floyd, and azul do with their suits too.

"Kalim! where have you been?! we just left the elavoter and you were gone from my sights?! why did you-?"

"oh ya! i saw this pretty ocean theme pillows and i wanted to get some but you had my wallet hehe~ so... can i get them? they be perfect for-!"

"no. ugh..."

you felt really uncomfortable... it was like a mother scolding her kid... the black hair man looked at you. you shifted your feet uncomfortably.

"who are you? i dont remember you from our last visit?"

you raise your hands up and backed up slightly. people here are either very suspicious, they often come to see azul for his deals, or naive soul, that came for the ocean-like atmosphere.

"im just a-"

two arms snaked around you. you started to freak out. this is how you die--!!!

"shrimpy!! where's my drink~~? ive asked it for about... like 10 minutes ago~~~"

Oh! its just Floyd. he practicely moaned in your ear. it was a lot to get used to Floyd's mood swings. but you learn to avoid him when hes upset or just do want he says and not say too much. if he tries to tease you, he often gets bored and wonders to do who knows what.

"oh! hi sea snake! hi sea otter!"

"Floyd.. for the last time, stop calling us-

"hi Floyd!! haha!"

the white hair man jumped up and join the hug! you were getting crushed between these two... you were patting their backs in a way to say "okay thank you but-- that enough..!!! im dying! let me go!"

"jamil! Kalim! its great that you made it! a bit late but- i cant say im suprised."

"tsk.. hello jade... azul..."

the dark hair man, pulled the white hair man off you. it helped but Floyd is still squeezing you like he was trying to kill you, not literally... hopefully.

"ah.. its seems that you met our new hire. Jamil, Kalim, this is (mc)."

you, trying your best with the situation youre in with floyd right now, bowed your head as jade introduced you.

"hehe. we found shrimpy when we were at the Wright's place."

"did you get the money..?"

"no~ they were being stubborn but (mc) offer to pay off the money that was owed so i cant complain too much."

azul spoke and rubbed your head like a kid. you didnt like how they were talking about you like you werent there. or rather, talking about the Wrights like they were bad.. but you held your tongue. you didnt want to get them mad... especially when floyd is still holding you.

"ohh.. poor (mc). dont worry, well protect you from those mean people. im kalim, Kalim al-asim!"

"Kalim!"

"and thats jamil, Jamil Viper."

"Kalim! dont give our names to strangers! you dont even know them-"

"Well then~ we'll just have to just spend time with them!"

Kalim.. Kalim al-asim.... an Al-Asim.. Al-Asim! This smiling ray of sunlight is an Asim??

apparently your face paled because Kalim reached for your face and held your face into his hands. he gave you a giggle and smiled as he massage your cheeks in his hands.

"hehe youre so cute. after our meeting with Azul, i want to hangout with you on your break. when is it? hmm?"

you turned to Azul, he nodded his head in approval.

"i-its.. its in 2 hours from now.. sir.."

"hehe.. no need to talk so formal. just call me Kalim. And okay, on your break, meet me by the front door of the Mostro lounge, kk?

"y-yes.. kalim.."

he gave you a smile and all the 5 men started to head to Azul VIP room..

what did you get yourself into....

~~~

You've been spending a lot of your time with kalim as of late. To the point where you felt guilty for leaving work.. but you'd feel more guilty for saying no to kalim. You tried once. It was one too many.

You initially wanted to keep some distance. But with kalim's smile and charisma, you couldn't say no. Kalim always found a way to have lots of fun and he will always include you too.

Every time you came back to the Mostro lounge, floyd gives you a stink eye and a "why wasn't i invited~?" whine. Jade gives you his creepy smile and does a weird thing by leaning in and asking "did anything exciting happened~?", whatever that means. Azul doesn't seem upset at all. It made you anxious. Is he marking down your pay when you're out with kalim..? You checked your accounts and you were still getting payed for your work but.. you didn't do any work..?

You decide to talk to azul about it. You didn't want something like this be in the air, with someone as slimy as azul.. and with money no least!!

You knocked.

"Um.. azul..? Are you busy?"

You peeked through the door of Azul's office, and they vip room.

"... no. What do you need..?

he was working on some papers and he looked.. unpleased.

"I.. ill ask later."

You tried to take your leave befor-

"You wanted to ask about your pay..?"

You slowly turn to him. His face hasn't changed from that unpleased expression.

"Y-yes sir.."

Azul sighed, lend back into his chair, took off his glasses and rubbed his face as he let's out another sigh.

"Kalim is... renting you."

What..?

"And he also requested for you to still get payed because, his words.. 'they're still working.'"

He started to stare at you. You didn't think he meant it to look intimidating, because he can't see you, he doesnt have his glasses on. But it still was very unpleasant.

You were at lost of words. Kalim al-asim... is renting you..? You weren't mad but you weren't happy too. Spending time with kalim is really fun and his personality is really refreshing. But being told you were 'rented out' feels.. dehumanizing. But with your life, you can really feel anything else..

"Is that all..?"

"Yes sir.."

"Good, you may leave."

You bowed your head and left, making sure to close the door softly behind you.

What do you do now..?

~~~

Now after every visit from kalim, the moment becomes a little sour. He's paying azul to spent time with you, but why? He's an al-asim. He could get anything he wants right? Why would he spend time with a common rat like you..?

What are you to him?

"(Mc)? You okay?"

You looked up and kalim was really close to you! You jolted and lean back

"I-im okay! Its just.. work. Heh.. work just be exhausting and im just.. I'm okay!"

You smiles, you didn't notice that kalim stopped smiling.. he was still looking at you but just not smiles. it would have scared you to your core if it wasnt for you trying to change the topic by looking at the scenery. A minute past and his smile came back, brighter.

"Why don't you come with me then?"

"huh..?"

"You could live in the al-asim estate and you don't have to lift the finger! Serverts will come to your every beckon call and you get to live.. like an Asim."

As you were staring at him, lost of words, he gently took your hand. You didnt even noticed it until he pulled your hands to his lips and kissed it.

"K-kalim! I-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he stood in front of you and got on one knee.

You felt sick

"(Mc)... "

You felt dizzy

"Will you-"

This has to be a dream!!!

"Be mine?"

He sweet innocent smile made you feel sick. How can can someone so dangerous be so naive?!? You bearly knew him! He bears knew you!!

"I.. i-i have to go!!"

You ran off, back to Mostro Lounge, back to your room, leaving a sad otter left on one knee..

~~~

You were in your room for 3 days..

You weren't payed for those days but you didnt care..

You felt sick and a little guilty. Kalim looked so sad when you left him. Maybe when you see him again... you could apologize and explain yourself..? By the seven! Would he still be mad at you? Will he order for you to be erased??

You felt nausea.

You needed to get some water.

Luckily it was night time, you wouldn't likely run into floyd, jade, or azul.. maybe?

You walked through the dark halls, only using your memories and the walls to guide you.

You were lost in thought and didn't realize a figure coming up behind you. By the time you did noticed, the figure quickly over powered you and you were imbraced into darkness.

~~~~

[Before the proposal]

"Azul!!? how much does the Wrights owe!?"

Kalim bursted into Azul's office, with a tired Jamil following behind.

"ah! K-Kalim! you know you have to make an ap-"

"i know i know! this is important though!!"

Kalim rushes up to Azul's desk, slamming his hands down on to the desk and leaned over to Azul. he was like a jumping dog..

"i want to ask (mc) to marry me!!"

everyone froze and even jade and Floyd, they were walking by, looked at Kalim like he was crazy.

"Kalim! I know your father has told you about being an Al-Asim and your responsibility to your family and making an hair but not like this!!"

"come on, Jamil~ they're perfect~ they're sweet and kind. they're responsible and hard working, like father wanted. they're just... perfect!"

Kalim goes through his phone and looks at pictures of you he took when you hanging out with him and even ones he requested from Jade and Floyd, secret cameras. They vary between you working and you when you think youre alone...

Azul rubs his face and gives a long sigh.

"look kalim. Even if your display of affection is definitely... something... (mc) is still working the Wrights' debt off. if they're not here then-"

"oh! that's another amazing thing about them! they were willing to help the Wrights without even knowing what they were getting themselves into. with the amount of debt the Wrights have, (mc) would be working until they're in their 70s. Thats why i need to protect them, do they even know about the Wrights 'situation'?"

Floyd lays on the couch in the VIP room, with candy in his mouth.

"nope! Jade thought it would help (mc) stay motivated to work. you saw how upset they got whenever we talk about the Wrights. they're so cute but so obedient that they don't even asked what they did to get in their situation, HAHA! silly shrimpy~!"

Floyd laughs and Jade chimes in.

"To be fair, we did get them out of a 'dangerous situation'. what the Wrights were doing to them was shameful.. Saying their debt was all because of their son, who has been dead for 10 years, and saying they dont have money but is found actively going to clubs spending more. the fact that they're living in the poorest town, and looking like weak old people. they're fooling everyone with the act. Everyone, including (mc)~"

Jamil turned and glared at Azul.

"wait-.. you didn't even tell them..? and you kept them working here?"

"think whatever Jamil, someone has to pay the debt off."

"i can pay it!"

Kalim looks at Azul, he was giving a determined look. Azul sighs again, why is everyone in his office. He has too much work to do.

"i know you can but you know-"

"in exchange, give me (mc)."

Jamil was about to stop Kalim but-

"(mc), yes, they work here under false pretenses but they have became a big asset to us. if you were to take them, it will take a long time to replace them."

Kalim walks closer to azul. with his serious expression, to say left everyone on edge was an understatement.

"i will pay 3x the Wrights' debt... as long as i get (mc)."

Azul looks at Kalim and a sick smile appears. He held out his hand.

"Its a Deal."

~~~~

This took so long! but i did it! i hope you guys enjoy it. if you guys like me to draw something for this, just ask, until then, back into my wips qwq