#Not The Nine O'Clock News

[sowhatifiliveinfukuoka]

Not The Nine O'Clock News (1979-82)

[georgefairbrother]

A little golden moment from Not the Nine O'Clock News (BBC 1979-1982).

The Soviet nuclear missiles have been launched, with Armageddon just minutes away, but according to the panellists on Question Time, this is the least of Britain's problems.

"…We’re sitting here talking about a nuclear holocaust, casually discussing the destruction of the entire planet, and ignoring the major issue, which is the appalling record of this Conservative Government…"

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

My starting point when it comes to the consideration of any issue relating to free speech is my passionate belief that the second most precious thing in life is the right to express yourself freely. The most precious thing in life I think is food in your mouth and the third most precious is a roof over your head but a fixture in the Number 2 slot for me is free expression, just below the need to sustain life itself. That is because I have enjoyed free expression in this country all my professional life and expect to continue to do so, I personally highly unlikely to be arrested for whatever laws exist to contain free expression, because of the undoubtedly privileged position that is afforded to those of a high public profile. So, my concerns are less for myself and more for those more vulnerable because of their lower profile. Like the man arrested in Oxford for calling a police horse, gay. Or the teenager arrested for calling the Church of Scientology a cult. Or the café owner arrested for displaying passages from the bible on a TV screen.

When I heard of some of these more ludicrous offences and charges, I remembered that I had been here before in a fictional context. I once did a show called Not the Nine O’Clock News, some years ago, and we did a sketch where Griff Rhys-Jones played Constable Savage, a manifestly racist police officer to whom I, as his station commander, is giving a dressing down for arresting a black man on a whole string of ridiculous, trumped up and ludicrous charges. The charges for which Constable Savage arrested Mr. Winston Kodogo of 55 Mercer Road were these:

‘Walking on the cracks in the pavement.’

‘Walking in a loud shirt in a built-up area during the hours of darkness’ and one of my favourites ‘Walking around all over the place.’

He was also arrested for ‘Urinating in a public convenience’ and ‘Looking at me in a funny way’.

Who would have thought that we would end up with a law that would allow life to imitate art so exactly. I read somewhere, a defender of the status quo claiming that the fact that the gay horse case was dropped after the arrested man refused to pay the fine and that the Scientology case was also dropped at some point during the court process was proof that the law working well, ignoring the fact that the only reason these cases were dropped was because of the publicity that they had attracted. The Police sensed that ridicule was just around the corner and withdrew their actions. But what about the thousands of other cases that did not enjoy the oxygen of publicity? That weren’t quite ludicrous enough to attract media attention?  Even for those actions that were withdrawn, people were arrested, questioned, taken to court and then released. That isn’t a law working properly: that is censoriousness of the most intimidating kind, guaranteed to have, as Lord Dear says, a ‘chilling effect’ on free expression and free protest.

Parliament’s Joint committee on Human Rights summarized, as you may know, this whole issue very well by saying ‘While arresting a protestor for using threatening or abusive speech may, depending on the circumstances, be a proportionate response, we do not think that language or behaviour that is merely insulting should ever be criminalized in this way.’ The clear problem with the outlawing of insult is that too many things can be interpreted as such. Criticism is easily construed as insult by certain parties. Ridicule is easily construed as insult. Sarcasm, unfavourable comparison, merely stating an alternative point of view to the orthodoxy can be interpreted as insult. And because so many things can be interpreted as insult, it is hardly surprising that so many things have been, as the examples I talked about earlier show.

Although the law under discussion has been on the statute book for over 25 years, it is indicative of a culture that has taken hold of the programmes of successive governments that, with the reasonable and well-intended ambition to contain obnoxious elements in society, has created a society of an extraordinarily authoritarian and controlling nature. It is what you might call The New Intolerance, a new but intense desire to gag uncomfortable voices of dissent. ‘I am not intolerant’, say many people; say many softly spoken, highly educated, liberal-minded people: ‘I am only intolerant of intolerance’. And people tend to nod sagely and say ‘Oh, wise words, wise words’ and yet if you think about this supposedly inarguable statement for longer than five seconds, you realize that all it is advocating is the replacement of one kind of intolerance with another. Which to me doesn’t represent any kind of progress at all. Underlying prejudices, injustices or resentments are not addressed by arresting people: they are addressed by the issues being aired, argued and dealt with preferably outside the legal process. For me, the best way to increase society’s resistance to insulting or offensive speech is to allow a lot more of it. As with childhood diseases, you can better resist those germs to which you have been exposed.

We need to build our immunity to taking offence, so that we can deal with the issues that perfectly justified criticism can raise. Our priority should be to deal with the message, not the messenger. As President Obama said in an address to the United Nations only a month or so ago: ‘Llaudable efforts to restrict speech can become a tool to silence critics or oppress minorities. The strongest weapon against hateful speech is not repression, it is more speech.’ And that is the essence of my thesis, more speech. If we want a robust society, we need more robust dialogue and that must include the right to insult or to offend. And as, even if, as Lord Dear says, you know, the freedom to be inoffensive is no freedom at all.

The repeal of this word in this clause will be only a small step, but it will, I hope, be a critical one in what should be a longer-term project to pause and slowly rewind a creeping culture of censoriousness. It is a small skirmish in the battle, in my opinion, to deal with what Sir Salman Rushdie refers to as the ‘outrage industry’ – self-appointed arbiters of the public good, encouraging media-stoked outrage, to which the police feel under terrible pressure to react. A newspaper rings up Scotland Yard: ‘Someone has said something slightly insulting on Twitter about someone who we think a national treasure. What are you going to do about it?’ And the police panic and they scrabble around and then grasp the most inappropriate lifeline of all, Section 5 of the Public Order Act, that thing where they can arrest anybody for saying anything that might be construed by anyone else as insulting. You know, they don’t seem to need a real victim, they need only to make the judgment that somebody could have been offended if they had heard or read what has been said. The most ludicrous degree of latitude. The storms that surround Twitter and Facebook comment have raised some fascinating issues about free speech, which we haven’t really yet come to terms with. Firstly, that we all have to take responsibility for what we say, which is quite a good lesson to learn. But secondly, we’ve learnt how appallingly prickly and intolerant society has become of even the mildest adverse comment.

The law should not be aiding and abetting this new intolerance. Free speech can only suffer if the law prevents us from dealing with its consequences. I offer you my wholehearted support to the Reform Section 5 campaign. Thank you very much.

[starbug]

[tmarshconnors]

“The older you get, the more you realise how happenstance... has helped to determine your path through life.”

Rowan Sebastian Atkinson is an English actor, comedian and writer.

Creator of Mr. Bean: Rowan Atkinson is best known for creating and portraying the character Mr. Bean. The show "Mr. Bean," which aired from 1990 to 1995, became a global sensation. The largely non-verbal, slapstick comedy of Mr. Bean has made it popular worldwide, leading to various adaptations including animated series and feature films.

Star of "Blackadder": Atkinson gained fame for his role in the British historical sitcom "Blackadder." The series, which ran from 1983 to 1989, featured Atkinson as the cynical and scheming Edmund Blackadder across different historical periods. The show is acclaimed for its sharp wit and historical satire.

Accomplished Writer and Comedian: Besides his acting, Atkinson is also an accomplished writer and comedian. He was part of the writing team for the sketch comedy show "Not the Nine O'Clock News," which aired from 1979 to 1982. The show was known for its satirical take on current events and pop culture.

Educational Background in Engineering: Atkinson holds an MSc in Electrical Engineering from The Queen's College, Oxford. Despite his career in comedy and acting, his educational background is in engineering. His technical training contributed to his precise comedic timing and attention to detail in his performances.

Roles in "Johnny English" Films: Atkinson starred in the "Johnny English" film series, a parody of James Bond-style spy movies. The first film was released in 2003, with sequels in 2011 and 2018. His portrayal of the bumbling secret agent Johnny English has been well-received and added to his international fame.

[denbo66]

Happy 60th Birthday to BBC 2 or BBC TWO. Whichever.

[zippocreed501]

Not the Nine O'Clock News

Rowan Atkinson

[leaving-fragments]

the whiplash of german news reporting nearly nothing abt palestine or something vaguely supportive of israel vs irish news reporting a five minute long segment of a palestinian girl dying during play and abt the attack on jenin

[lovemomhatepolice]

i'll make it fit - rafe cameron

navigation taglist requests

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: sexual overtones, established relationship, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), this damn tiny polo!!, English is my second language!, NO SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!

type: totally smut (this is the first time i've written something like this, which has practically no plot at all, just sex itself. keep my fingers crossed that it didn't turn out badly!!!), small plot but really small

word count: 1,8k

summary: rafe cameron likes things too small for him.

more content: obx masterlist, rafe cameron masterlist

Mornings in Tannyhill were mostly quiet. Since Ward Cameron was dead and his entire family had moved to a house in the Bahamas, it was quiet there. Hearing of Sarah had disappeared - she was probably somewhere with her friends, again putting her life at risk, nothing new. And the only one who lived there was Rafe, who had taken over the company from his father and decided to return to the “old garbage.” Well, and you lived there too, by the side of your beloved. You couldn't have dreamed of a better life.

You were awakened by the bright rays of the sun, which rudely crept through the slightly parted curtains into your shared bedroom. You dragged yourself lightly and glanced at the clock, which was on the bedside table and, as usual, was making that unbearable sound.

After muttered under your breath, you slipped out from under the warm quilt, which, to say the least, wasn't all that necessary - after all, it was summer. But by the fact that you were in just a lace petticoat, it definitely enveloped you with a warmth that was missing.

You didn't know what time it was, but by the fact that Rafe wasn't next to you, you knew it was probably after nine o'clock. You didn't have to look for him for long, because as soon as you stepped out into the hallway from your bedroom, you heard his voice. You looked out the balcony door, which was gently open, and smiled at the sight. Rafe, in a freshly stitched buzzcut, was sitting on the couch talking on the phone. In front of him on the coffee table he had papers spread out and a laptop in which he was busily tapping something. As soon as he noticed you he sent you a slight smile, but he was so engaged in the conversation that he did nothing more. And you couldn't be passive, after all, he was wearing a beautiful blue and damn tight polo that exposed his perfectly shaped biceps. You laughed quietly, seeing him nervously tweak them as they rolled up higher and higher each time, not covering as much of his arm as they should.

Despite his serious tone on the call, his eyes would flicker toward you every few moments, his smile softening just enough to let you know he was glad you were there.

Not one to resist temptation, you decided to have a little fun. You strolled over to him, moving slowly, letting your fingers trail along the back of the couch as you circled around to where he was sitting. Rafe’s eyes darted up, narrowing slightly in a silent warning.

You didn’t make it easy for him. With a mischievous smile, you leaned over and whispered into his ear, "That polo looks a little tight, don’t you think? You might need help taking it off later."

“Uh, yeah… sure,” he said to the person on the other end of the call, clearing his throat as if to regain his composure. “Send it to the office, they'll take care of it,” he muttered, hanging up.

You moved your hands over his shoulders, gently massaging them. Rafe put the phone down on the table, closed the laptop and leaned his head against the back of the couch, looking at you.

“You know what you're doing, huh?” he parroted under his breath.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, letting your breath tickle his skin. “Just trying to make sure my man relaxes after handling all that business.”

“And what am I supposed to do with you?” he muttered, covering yours with his hands. “Whatever you want,” you muttered, going down with your palms on his chest. “Oh, but this polo is really too small for you.” Rafe laughed under his breath and gracefully helped you past the couch so that you were now standing in front of him, between his legs. You were in just a white lace slip that didn't cover much underneath, so Rafe could immediately see your hardening nipples.

You let out a soft laugh as Rafe’s strong hands gripped your thighs, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. You straddled him, your knees sinking into the plush cushions of the couch on either side of his hips. The way he looked up at you—like you were the only thing in the world that could hold his attention—sent a warm rush through your veins.

"So needy" He muttered, stroking your hair and putting it behind your ears. “Who would have thought that you would beg for my attentions so much?”

“I'm not begging,” you muttered, swallowing your saliva loudly.

You could have sworn that in that moment Rafe heard your loud heartbeat. And even though you had been together for more than a year, he continued to trigger the same feelings in you. “No?” he asked ironically, his hand touching your pussy, which was covered only by a thong. “I would say something else.”

“Rafe,” you muttered, gently pushing your hips out to meet him as his nimble fingers pressed your clit harder. “So wet,” he mumbled, moving your panties aside and nimbly sliding his ring and middle finger into you.

You brought your face closer to his and grabbed his jaw, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss. It was still quiet around you, the only things you could hear were the birds and your moans, drowned out by your boyfriend's mouth.

His thumb moved to your clit, the touch was light, teasing, his fingers tracing slow circles that sent tingles up your spine. And his fingers didn't stop moving up and down, each time hitting the exact same spot. Rafe knew what the fuck he was doing, he always knew how to make you in heaven in a moment by his precise movements. He knew your body like no one else, just like you knew his.

“Cum for me, baby,” he said, moving his lips to your naked neck. You felt you were close - Rafe did the same, following the feeling as you pulsed on his fingers. You didn't have to wait long until your body shook with pleasant and familiar reflexes, and you came on his fingers, burying your head in his neck.

Rafe took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, sucking on them. Oh this sight and Rafe in his damn tight blue polo, was something too strong for you to go through. You moved against his lap, letting him know that this was not what you wanted. “Still eager, huh?” he laughed throatily, but you didn't have to wait long. Rafe always knew what you needed and you got it right away. "You taste so good, baby"

“Rafe please,” you muttered, clasping your small hand over his large cock, which was getting harder and harder under you. “Anything for you,” he muttered, quickly getting rid of his pants.

Without much warning, he entered you. Slowly at first, because you knew very well that he was big. And even after so many times together, you continued to feel a slight discomfort at first. But Rafe always made it fit. He couldn't resist your tight pussy, which was even screaming for his attention. “Fuck, tight as ever,” he whispered, correcting himself on the couch so that you were more comfortable. “But don't worry, I'll make it fit.”

And as he said, so he did. With agility, he began to move inside you, making both of you nothing but moaning messes.

“Wait, I want,” you said, putting your hand on his chest. On that damn sexy polo. “Oh, a princess wants to take control?” he laughed under his breath, catching you under the thighs, but as if on cue he stopped moving inside you, making you feel again how big he was inside you. You groaned involuntarily, but didn't give in. You moved nimbly on top of him, practically taking him out of your pussy every now and then, and then lowering yourself all the way down again.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his head falling back against the couch, exposing the strong line of his throat. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted as he watched you, completely entranced by the way you were moving, the way you were making him feel.

You could tell he was trying to hold back, trying to let you set the pace, but the way his fingers flexed against your skin told you just how badly he wanted to take control.

“Not yet, Rafey,” you muttered, moving even closer to him. “You deserve the best. Especially, when you're in that slutty polo"

You increased your pace, but Rafe couldn't stand it anymore either, and came against you, entering your pussy from below. At that moment your bodies were merging at the perfect moments and places, so you were already not far from orgasm. And with that, he captured your lips again, his kiss rougher this time, more urgent. There was no more teasing now-just the raw, unfiltered need that always simmered between you both, threatening to spill over the edges.

“I'm so close,” you whispered into his mouth, clamping your pussy against him every so often. “I know, baby, I can feel it,” he muttered into your mouth, gently biting your lip to reach inside again. "Mmm, so good for me"

Rafe grabbed your buttocks and with even more force began to pound his cock into you. Your tongues fought for dominance, and your hands couldn't find room on his body, clamping down on the collars of his shirt.

"Shit" he murmured into your lips, feeling as his cum shot into your pussy, making quite a mess.

Not much later you too reach climax, clenching around his dick. Exhausted, you leaned on his shoulder kissing his neck. Rafe stroked your back, still calming down after the orgasm that hit you surprisingly hard this time. You felt him smiling over your shoulder, so you shared his happiness, smiling too. You moved your head off his shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes now. He was still inside you, so every movement, made quiet sighs come out of your throats.

“What's so funny?” you asked, stroking his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth gently.

“Maybe I should wear that tight polo more often, just to find yourself in your tight cunt again?” he laughed lightly, returning your kiss.

“Oh shut up, asshole,” you muttered, lowering yourself on top of him once more until he groaned and settled his head on the back of the couch, pulling you against him.

A/N: I know there's a lot of Rafe or Drew here lately, but I swear, when I see this man, I feel so ungodly that oh jesus, i hope you enjoyed this

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[sowhatifiliveinfukuoka]

Smash Hits (November 27 - December 10, 1980)

Not The Nine O'Clock News

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗢𝗢 𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗟

　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Chris misplace his priorities.

WARNING: Fighting, crying, cursing. ANGST with a happy ending.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N felt her heart sink as she watched Chris frantically scrolling through his phone, barely paying attention to her. The silence in the living room echoed the tension that had been building between them over the past few weeks, the memory of the previous day's event still fresh in Y/N's mind.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N sighed contentedly as she set the dark wooden table carefully, placing the plates and cutlery impeccably. She had spent the entire afternoon preparing Chris's favorite dish, with fresh ingredients, for the romantic dinner they had planned to have after the triplets recorded the video that would be posted next Friday. Everything was perfect, except for the emptiness that began to settle in her chest as the hours passed and Chris didn't appear.

At eight sharp, Y/N sat at the table, her heart filled with anticipation and anxiety. She watched the stairs leading to the front door with every sound she heard, willing him to come. But as the minutes dragged on, anxiety turned to despair.

Nine o'clock passed, and Y/N was still sitting alone at the table, her stomach churning with hunger and worry and her eyes staring into space, small tears burning her cornea. She tried calling Chris several times, but every call went to voicemail, as well as her messages going unread.

At ten o'clock, Y/N couldn't take it anymore. Thick tears began to stream down her face as she looked at the still untouched plate in front of her. The romantic dinner she had so lovingly prepared now seemed like a cruel reminder of her dashed hope.

With a choked sob, Y/N got up from the table, feeling completely desolate, her belly hurting from the weight and sobs that made her body shake. She carefully put the food away in the fridge, her hands shaking with disappointment.

That night, Y/N fell asleep in her boyfriend's room with a heavy heart and eyes swollen with tears, wondering if she would ever have the courage to take some initiative, before it was too late.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N was standing in front of the cinema, her heart full of expectation as she held a bucket of popcorn in her hands. She looked from side to side nervously, trying to spot Chris among the crowds rushing along the sidewalk. Time was running out, and her nervousness increased as the clock on her phone showed just ten minutes until the start of the movie, and her boyfriend still hadn't appeared.

And then, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her, Y/N's phone vibrated, indicating a new message. She grabbed the device anxiously, hoping to see an apology or explanation from Chris for the delay. But what she heard was something that made her shake with rage.

"Hi, baby." Chris’s voice sounded through the voicemail, but instead of an apology, there was a note of indifference in his words. "I know we planned to go to the movies today, but a last-minute party came up that I really need to go to. Do you remember Tara Yummy? It's hers! Well, I'm sorry for canceling like that at the last minute. Maybe we can meet up later, okay? Bye."

Y/N felt her world collapse upon hearing those words. Chris's betrayal, his indifference to her feelings as he sent her the message just to break her as if it was some kind of promise, cut like a sharp knife. She clutched her phone tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

Anger and sadness consumed her, bubbling inside her chest like a volcano about to erupt. With a cry of frustration, Y/N threw the bucket of popcorn and the tickets into the nearest trash bin, tears streaming freely down her cheeks as she felt suffocated by disappointment and pain.

And that night, Y/N walked away from the cinema, her heart broken and her confidence destroyed.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Chris." She began, shaking her head gently to shake the memories away, her voice trembling with the anguish she carried. "We need to talk."

Chris looked up from his phone for a moment, his tired eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to the bright screen in his hands.

"Not now, Y/N. I'm busy."

Those words hit Y/N like a punch in the stomach. She felt increasingly isolated and neglected, while Chris's world revolved around his career and his influential friends.

"You're always busy, Chris." Y/N murmured, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape her eyes. "There's never time for us."

Chris sighed, irritation rising across his skin like a shiver. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before looking up at the girl again, giving her a look full of hatred, which she had never seen before.

"I have responsibilities, Y/N. You know that. I can't just ignore my work to pay attention to you."

"I'm not asking you to ignore it." Y/N snapped, her voice rising in desperation. "I'm just asking for a little time for us. For our relationship. Yesterday you-"

Chris shook his head quickly, interrupting her, the traces of frustration deepening on his face.

"I already said I'm sorry! You always do this, Y/N. You're always trying to change who I am and what I do. You always try to change my priorities, like my world has to revolve around you. That's not how things work!"

Those words cut Y/N like a sharp blade, knocking all the air out of her lungs. She wasn't trying to change him. She just wanted to feel like he cared about her as much as he cared about his fame, but instead, he made her feel like a random crumpled up piece of paper.

"I just want you to include me in your life." Y/N whispered, her voice shaking with pain as her eyes blinked repeatedly, her eyelashes slowly becoming wet with tiny droplets from tears. "But it always seems like there's something more important."

Chris snorted, throwing the phone roughly onto his lap and turning abruptly to face her, an expression of disdain filling his eyes.

"You know what? Maybe it would be better if you took some time to think about what you really want, because it seems to me that everything I do isn't enough, and if you're not genuinely happy in this relationship, maybe you should evaluate your preferences!"

Chris' words echoed in Y/N's mind, leaving her stunned. She felt as if she had been hit by a train of conflicting emotions.

With a lump in her throat, the girl stood up from the couch abruptly, her legs shaking under the weight of her grief as her chest burned intensely, anguish gnawing at her insides.

"Maybe you're right." Y/N muttered, shrugging, her voice cracking with pain. "Maybe I need some time to figure out what I really want... Right?"

Chris watched in silence as Y/N walked away, her tears finally spilling freely down her cheeks, her lips pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the sobs that wanted to escape.

The brunette frowned, watching his girlfriend's wet cheeks against the cool light of the room, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten, begging to call her back, and apologize, but the words seemed to get stuck.

And so, Y/N left the triplets house that night, taking with her a broken heart and a soul full of uncertainty about the future of their relationship.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The frigid night air bit into Chris' skin as he walked through the empty streets of LA, his body shaking not only from the cold but also from the anxiety and remorse that consumed him. He couldn't bear another night without Y/N by his side, without feeling her comforting touch and hearing her soft laugh filling the silence.

His steps were heavy and slow, each carrying the weight of days of loneliness and regret that piled up on his shoulders. The memory of Y/N's desolate and disappointed face haunted his thoughts, an image that haunted him incessantly, preventing him from finding peace even at bedtime.

Chris knew he had done wrong, that he had hurt the person he loved most in the world with his negligence and misplaced priorities. He blamed himself for his actions, for putting his work and his friends before her, for leaving her alone and helpless at times when she needed him most, or just wanted his company and love.

The mere memory of coming home on Thursday before everything fell apart, and finally seeing all the lost messages from his girl, along with a plate full of his favorite food neatly packed in the fridge made his heart ache as if human hands were squeezing it.

As he made his way through the deserted streets, the silence of the night was deafening, a cruel metaphor for the loneliness he had caused himself. Each step brought him closer to the home that had once been his refuge, the place where he found comfort in Y/N's arms and where he hoped he could right the wrongs he had done.

Finally, the brunette arrived at the door of the small, simple house, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he hesitated to ring the doorbell. He knew he didn't deserve Y/N's forgiveness, that his empty words and broken promises couldn't erase the pain he caused.

But he had to try. He had to show her that he was sorry, that he loved her more than anything in this world, and that he would do anything to have her back by his side.

With a shaky sigh, Chris finally pressed the doorbell and waited, his heart hammering in his chest as he crossed his arms, shifting his weight from one leg to the other in an act of nervousness, the cold of the night penetrating his bones.

On the other side of the door, Y/N hesitated, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she tried to gather the courage to face the stranger that was there. The last few days had been a storm of sadness and loneliness, her mind spinning in circles of anguish as she struggled to understand what had happened between her and Chris, where everything went wrong.

When she finally mustered enough courage to turn the doorknob, what she saw made her freeze in place. Chris was there, standing in front of her, his eyes red and swollen from crying. His face was contorted into an expression of pain and regret, and Y/N felt her heart tighten even more at the sight of the person she loved so much in a deplorable state.

"Chris." Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to process the scene before her eyes.

Chris didn't say anything, he couldn't. He just sobbed, thick tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he fought to contain the overwhelming emotions that overwhelmed him. His body shook violently, each sob a painful reminder of all the mistakes he had made in the last few weeks.

Y/N felt tears in her own eyes as she looked at him, her heart breaking at the pain she saw reflected in his eyes. Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped Chris in a tight hug, letting him cry on her shoulder as she gently stroked his hair, her own tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

For long minutes, they stayed there, lost in each other's arms that transcended the words and hurts. It was as if, in that moment, their wounded souls found a refuge in each other, a source of comfort and peace amid the chaos their lives had become.

"Baby! B-baby, I'm- I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry-" The boy's words came out in broken sobs, his words almost incomprehensible.

Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her heart clenching by her own pain. With a sigh, she pulled away lightly, holding his hand firmly and gently guiding him into her house, closing the door behind them, the warmth of the walls enveloping their cold bodies.

Y/N led Chris over to the living room couch, keeping a cautious distance as he sat down next to her on the cushioned seat. Uncomfortable silence hung between them, filled with tension and unspoken emotions, as Y/N waited patiently for Chris to find the words to express what was in his heart.

Finally, after a long moment, Chris broke the silence, his voice still cracked from his recent crying.

"Baby, I... I know I was wrong. I know I hurt you deeply with my actions, and I never wanted to make you feel that way."

Chris sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he tried to find the right words, his right leg bouncing up and down in anxiety.

"I was so obsessed with YouTube, with my success, that I ended up neglecting the most important thing in my life: you. I got lost in the cool lights and the adrenaline of fame, and I forgot how much you mean to me. And I'm so fucking sorry for that." His lower lip trembled slightly, making him trap it between his teeth.

The boy's words cut deep into Y/N, reigniting the pain and hurt she had kept inside. She felt tempted to step away to protect her heart from the possibility of being hurt again. But something in Chris's eyes made her hesitate, something she recognized as genuine regret and love.

"Chris..." Y/N began, her voice shaky and filled with uncertainty. "You don't understand how much it hurt me every time you kept me waiting, every time you put your work and your friends before me. I felt so alone, so unappreciated."

"I know, Y/N. And I'm sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I would do anything to make things right, to prove that you're my real priority." Chris lowered his head, frowning and fixing his eyes on his legs, guilt weighing on his shoulders.

Y/N raised her right hand, taking it to his chin covered with the beard he had let grow in the last few days, pushing it up so that she could look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation reflected there.

She wanted to believe him and wanted to open her heart to forgiveness and the possibility of a future together again. But the pain of everything that had been done brought her such insecurity that she knew she needed time to heal.

"I don't know, Chris." Y/N murmured, the hand that was holding his chin falling with a thud onto her lap. "I'm still hurt, I'm still trying to process everything that happened. I don't know if I can just forgive and forget."

Chris swallowed hard, fear evident in his eyes as his mind screamed at him to do everything, anything. Even if he needed to kneel in front of his girl to get her back.

"Please, Y/N. I promise I'll do everything to make this right, to be the boyfriend you deserve. Just give me a chance to prove that I can change."

Y/N looked at him again, seeing the vulnerability in his gaze. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but there was something about Chris, something she couldn't ignore, something that gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to the way they were before.

With a resigned sigh, Y/N reached her hand out to Chris again, taking his and intertwining their fingers tightly, her heart warming with the touch she had missed so much.

"I forgive you, Chris." She murmured, her voice sounding soft but her eyes carrying an indescribable firmness. "But know that things are going to have to change. Your priorities are going to have to take the right path this time."

taglist:

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(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[coyotes-rules-of-change]

Part 3: Christopher

The long awaited continuation of my first series—I’m assuming… If you missed the first parts, please feel free to enjoy Part 1: Kellen and Part 2: Adam before you continue on with Christopher. In terms of content warnings, Kellen is still quite rough and aggressive, but it seems as though the new and improved Adam has helped the raging jock tone it down a bit.

Kellen wasn't sure what had happened with Adam. He knew two realities: one where Adam was an insufferable nerd who was Kellen's submissive ticket out of academic probation. But now Adam was an insatiable twink who got off on Kellen's abusive nature, and now Adam has become an almost addictive part of Kellen's life. Kellen had always been unwaveringly straight, but now he continued to use Adam's ass as a routine receptacle for his pent-up aggression. Instead of Kellen bullying the nerdy Adam into completing his schoolwork, Adam seemed to feed on Kellen's demeanor, controlling every rough and raging moment of their daily fuck sessions. It clearly drove Adam's prude of a roommate crazy, leaving the poor Ben rapidly departing his several accidental intrusions with an unmistakable look of shame.

But Adam's sexual hold over Kellen left his primary motivation unmet. Kellen needed another way to boost his grade. Lucky for him, nerds were everywhere; he just had to select one. Kellen scanned the dining hall. He considered a business major sitting in a booth. The kid, Kenneth, made a habit of dressing professionally and was always down for a deal, but Kellen needed to be sure his geeky clothes could guarantee good grades. It dawned on him that he could use Adam's roommate, Ben. It would be gloriously sadistic, and Ben was actively failing to hide the fact that he'd noticed Kellen across the hall and was nervously attempting to blend in. That did seem like a fun idea to Kellen, but a new victim crossed his path.

The D&D club had just finished its lunch meeting, and one of the hapless members walked right in front of the jock. D&D, comic books; the perfect nerd just walked right in front of him and out the dining hall doors, unaware of the follower he'd managed to pick up.

Kellen paced his stalking to ensure he caught his new grunt in the dormitory stairwell. "Hey, nerd..."

Christopher barely had any chance to react before being shoved against the wall. Comic books spilled across the ground, and the pudgy fanboy stared up at the menacing jock with an imposing figure matching those of the superheroes on the covers of the comics now plastered on the floor. But instead of heroic deeds, these muscles worked to intimidate and scare.

"Do you enjoy math, nerd?" Kellen's stare bore into the poor bookworm.

"Well... uh, no, not re—" Christopher barely managed to stutter out his response before Kellen barrelled on.

"No, you don't get it, do you. You enjoy math, dweeb."

Again, Kellen doesn't wait around for Christopher's stuttered response. "Wait, but I don't think—"

"This is my math homework." Kellen holds up a few papers. "This is due tomorrow. You can meet me tomorrow morning, nine o'clock, in the locker room at the school gym. It had better be done."

Kellen releases Christopher and turns to go, but against his better judgment, Christopher talks back to his departing bully.

"But wait! I already have my own homework! And I have a class at 8:30! I can't meet you at—"

Again, Christopher is interrupted, finding himself slammed up against the banister.

"You see these muscles, right?" Kellen didn't wait for a response. "You don't have to read your little comic books to know that I can fuck you up. You'll be there. Tomorrow. At nine."

Kellen turns to go, and Christopher slumps to the ground. This time he's wise enough to stay silent as the asshole jock strides out the stairwell door.

——————

The whole encounter in the staircase baffled Christopher as much as it terrified him. He wasn't sure why he'd been selected for this daunting task but was pretty sure the stupid athlete saw the comic books and thought he was bookish and nerdy. He really wasn't; quite frankly, he was good at math, but it wasn't anything he considered fun. Why do jocks like him think a love of comic books translated into unlimited intellect and a life of devotion to school work? Life is not the Big Bang Theory—in fact, Christopher had a few failing grades of his own, but the jock selected him. What could he do about it?

Christopher was worried about being able to complete the assignment until he actually looked it over and realized he'd covered this stuff in high school. Unfortunately, tomorrow's "assignment" turned out to be a backlog of nearly a week of work. Frankly, this guy was dumb if he made it into college without being able to pass high school-level assignments. It also wasn't until Christopher was finished and he went to write the name in at the top of the assignments that he realized he didn't even know the guy's name—yup, this guy is pretty fucking stupid.

As Christopher drifted off to sleep—later than expected due to the added work—it dawned on him this might not be the last time he'd have to do this. He wished he didn't have to worry about the dumb jock's work. It was that moron's mess to get out of, not his.

——————

The following day, Christopher decided to head to the meeting point early. He suspected the jock wouldn't react kindly if he were late. Ten minutes early, Christopher and his Spiderman graphic tee walked in the gym doors at the school rec center. Only then did he realize how out of place he'd be. It was clear from his short stature and paunchy frame that he'd never walked through those doors in two years as a student here. It took a good half a minute before he realized he'd stopped the moment he'd walked through the door. Regaining his motor function, he awkwardly walks up to the unattended counter. After waiting a few eternal moments, a huge black guy enters through a back door.

"Can I help you?" the man asks dryly.

Yet again, Christopher can only stutter. Only this time, it's because he's starstruck and intimidated, staring at a man with the broad frame of a superhero. In front of him was Kyle, the front desk worker, but in his mind, Christopher was staring up at a man who looked more like M'Baku from the MCU.

Growing frustrated, Kyle tries to get something out of the mute kid in front of him. "Can I help you?"

"I... uh... well, I—uh..." Finally, Christopher managed to muster a thought. "I need to go in..."

Kyle looked inconvenienced. "Are you a student?"

"Uh... yeah."

"Just swipe your I.D., kid."

Kyle returned to the back room, leaving Christopher in his awkward haze. It was for the best. Had the interaction lasted any longer, Christopher might have found himself attempting the Wakandan salute to fill the tension. And that would not have been beneficial... or appropriate.

Christopher walked to the row of turnstiles, slowly pushing through after swiping his card. Then he looked up. Christopher found himself surrounded by physiques ripped from the covers of his comics. This was getting more challenging. Frozen just beyond the turnstile, he realizes he might like the comic books for more than just their storylines. Presented with the real-life muscular forms of his favorite heroes in every corner of the school gym, he realized he was getting a little hard. Another scan of the room, and he jolts, realizing his nerves since entering the building had burned through a lot of his early start. He needed to be in the locker room in just one more minute... Fortunately, a steady bustle through another door allowed him to figure out where to go. Unfortunately, he had to walk across the long room packed with sweaty athletes. Christopher locked his gaze on the door and sped through, using every ounce of effort to ignore everything around him until he pushed into the locker room.

Like the gym behind him, the locker room also bore a smattering of athletic physiques... but he should have remembered what the locker room was for. Every muscle was on display: pecs, abs, biceps, thighs, calves, more. He was lucky that—at least for the moment—none of the jocks in the locker room were actively changing their underwear. The panorama before him left him genuinely paralyzed. Right on cue, the bully from the stairwell came around a corner into the view of his latest victim.

Kellen sported nothing more than a towel and a sly grin. The physique he had on display was just like Captain America, but Christopher knew he was nothing like the upstanding model citizen from the comics. Nonetheless, Christopher was flushed. The muscular form in front of him made him harder than he'd ever been despite the sheer terror coursing through him.

Kellen just leaned in and grabbed the papers Christopher held in his hand. He looked it over. "This looks right, not that I'd know. I'd better get good grades or else..." Kellen flexed a bicep. "I'll have to teach you a lesson."

Christopher just gulped.

"Here's my phone." Kellen hands over his phone with an empty contact pulled up. "Put in your number. If I text you, you respond. If I tell you to meet me, you show up—on time. So far, you're doing great."

Christopher still stands frozen and mute but manages to take the phone and enter his number.

"Here's your next round of work. I have my class at three so we'll need to meet before then. You have a lot to do in the next few hours. Good thing you skipped class, right?"

"I— I— I—..." Christopher knows he won't be able to pull off such a tight turnaround, but his brain is overloaded. He can only stutter.

Kellen turns to go, but then turns back and gets out his phone. "Oh wait, I almost forgot." He opens up his camera app and snaps a selfie. One where the camera is placed low, around his waistline, aiming up the grooves of his abs and capturing his cocky smirk just beyond his hard pecs. "Let me send this to you. I'm gonna need a contact photo, right?" He hits send and walks away. Christopher feels the text alert buzz in his pocket. He regains his composure and blazes out of the rec center at top speed.

——————

Kellen figured the nerd that interested in comic books would flush at the sight of all those jocks in the locker room. The little weakling couldn't even speak! Frankly, it couldn't have gone better. At noon, he decided he'd send his summons to the little ant.

Meet me at 2. Dining hall

He was met with a few seconds of the three dots (...) before the nerd replied.

We should just meet at the gym again

In literally any other instance, he'd punish this kind of insubordination. But if this little dweeb wants to head back to that locker room, Kellen was more than happy to make that work.

Sure, bro, see you there

——————

Kellen arrived twenty minutes early. He disrobed and posted up in the shower, where he could see over the top of the curtain once the nerd showed up. He thought he'd rattle the little fatty with a full view of his naked body since his shirtless torso already turned the little guy into a temporary statue. The anticipation burned through the remaining minutes until two o'clock came... and then went.

2:05. Kellen is getting frustrated. But then again, he looked forward to the beat-down he'd get to deliver his insubordinate slogger.

2:10, and Kellen was about to end his time in the shower stall, reaching for the knob to shut off the water, but just then—

"Yo, Kellen! You here, bro?"

Probably just one of his dumbass teammates. "Over here, bro."

Kellen turned off the water so he could grab a towel before the other voice could get to the shower stalls. He's in the middle of drying off when—in an instant, out of nowhere, a bulky form appears behind him. It's all so out of the blue, but Kellen processes the sudden contact from behind in quick fragments... A compression shirt covering hard muscle pressed against his back; his waist gripped by strong calloused hands; A pair of gym shorts restraining a thick cock teasing his ass; an exhale brushing across the skin of his neck as the one standing behind him moves in for a kiss... Desire welling up inside him as he takes in the man behind him—

And in another instant, Kellen pushes away and whips around. He's face to face with... who is that? He'd never seen this jock in his locker room before. Kellen was about to come unhinged at the initiation of the homoerotic violation. "Who the fuck—"

But the new jock cuts in with a far more casual tone, "Whoa, Kellen, bro! I'm sorry I startled you."

Kellen's still blazing on in his rage, "What the hell was that?!"

The jock just grins and moves in towards Kellen, peeling off his Spiderman compression shirt, "I thought we were meeting in the locker room at 2, bro."

And then, acting just an impulse faster than Kellen's straight defensive rage, the new guy has his hand on Kellen's cock. Sparks jolt through his psyche, allowing the homophobic hostility to be overcome by hunger and desire. The feeling swells, and Kellen's world shifts. Christopher, the pudgy comic book nerd he'd met yesterday, was Chris the jock, Chris, his best bro.

Christopher loved the tales of heroism and hope found in the pages published by Marvel and DC of those—often in peak physical shape—using their stature, both physical and otherwise, for good. It was a world where those who looked just like his bullies were the best of humanity... well, humanity and the broader universe.... well, the broader universe and the multiverse... And maybe, as he became all too aware of that morning meeting that unknown asshole jock who shoved him against the wall in a stairwell—maybe, he enjoyed those big muscular men beyond their presence in the plot lines.

The new version of Chris loved superheroes, too, growing up as the MCU took hold and bloomed into a cultural cornerstone. He watched multiple A-list stars debut as new hero after new hero, unveiling muscle they'd gained just for the role. Through high school, the fanatic teen had taken up weight lifting—at first, just to be close to the novice jocks and then realizing some hard work would earn him a coveted form of his own. By the time he'd reached college, he'd set his sights on a career path as a sports physician and trainer, allowing him to interact with muscle daily. And the marvel-worthy body he'd built for himself meant he walked among jocks and their sculpted forms as an equal. They even recognized his heroic obsession by referring to him as "the fifth Chris"—after Evans, Hemsworth, Pratt, and Pine.

However, Chris's obsession with muscle was more than personal and professional. He had several of his bros on the hook for routine sessions for worship, wanking and other forms of general pleasure. Some of them justified it as straight bros being straight bros, and others were more emotionally invested. Chris didn't care either way as long as it was muscle and pleasure. "Muscle and pleasure" were all Chris cared about and his entire reality revolved around those things.

But Kellen's reality was split in two. He was waiting in the shower to intimidate Christopher with his physique and sense of shamelessness for his own enjoyment and, frankly, to indulge his penchant for psychological torture. But now, he remembers heading for the showers, knowing Chris would join him, and they could jack each other off before heading out to the workout floor to lift. Christopher's first visit to the locker room that morning was just another morning for Chris; Kellen's exhibitionism was matched and escalated by Chris until they were making out against the lockers. At the same time, their hands ran across their brawny frames. That photo Kellen sent to Christopher—the first thing he'd sent the flabby wimp—was just one of many suggestive photos frequently exchanged between him and Chris. And that first meeting with Christopher was just one of many times he and Chris had fucked in the stairwell. In this case, Chris had pinned him against the banister while he thrust his thick cock powerfully into Kellen's muscled ass, but they traded off who topped and who bottomed regularly. But of course, that's where they'd end up after Chris coyly walked past him in the dining hall while making sure to give his jock cock a firm squeeze. Kellen knew that was the sign that he should follow Chris to one of their secret spots.

Kellen could still remember the plump comic enthusiast he'd known for just over a day, but his head rolled back as the pleasure of his best bro's grip on his cock overtook him. He could also remember how straight he was; years of locker room shenanigans in high school and college all followed up with the obligatory "no homo" tag. Now those same homoerotic displays from Kellen's high school days were received differently in the college locker room when another freshman jock met the provocative pageant with his own brash acts. The daily game of gay chicken between bros inevitably gave way to overt sexual acts. Kellen was still straight, but he now had two former nerds whose routine fuck sessions he craved. Adam was a fixed booty call who thrived off his aggression, but Chris was now woven into his college memory as a constant presence in nearly every workout. And he extracted and reciprocated every one of Kellen's provocative and vulgar impulses until they worked themselves up into a sexual frenzy.

He knew it was the first time he'd done this, but his impulse followed the lead of nearly two years of memories this new reality had bestowed—he reached into Christopher's gym shorts and pulled the meaty shaft out of its confines. The jocks moved in closer, their pecs and abs coming together, one hand exploring, groping, rubbing, caressing the hard muscle, the other moving up and down the rod of the other bro. Lips meet, lusts rise, and breath grows heavy. Chris' thoughts are overwhelmed by the feeling of his hand running across his bro's wet skin, feeling the firm muscle underneath. The pleasure of his fingers tracing the familiar contours of his bro's body mixed with the bliss of Kellen's firm stroking up and down his cock. He loved how much Kellen loved showing off. He loved Kellen's attention to detail as he honed his physique. And most of all, he loved that Kellen loved his MCU body just as much as he did.

Kellen moans and tightens his grip. Chris moans and tweaks a nipple. Kellen's hand drifts south and gropes Chris' ballsack. Chris playfully bites Kellen's lip. The moaning and groaning swell, and jock seed shoots upwards, landing on two sets of abs.

"Mmmph…" Kellen just moans in his post-nut bliss, leaning back against the wall.

"Yeah, that was good, wasn't it, bro?" Chris changed the subject. "I gotta know. You find a nerd to get your grades up?"

The question jolts him out of the haze. Whatever this… curse was he was dealing with, that inquiry was laden with irony and insult. Resentfully, he responds with a pointed "No."

Chris didn't seem to notice. "I'm gonna go lift." He uses Kellen's towel to wipe off the cum on his chest before he slips his Spiderman compression tee back on, "I wanna shoot a thirst trap later to show off these gains to the comic book nerds on my TikTok."

Kellen was left leaning against the wall, stewing, reminded of his unfulfilled objective. Yet again, he was feeling pent-up, restless, angry, engaged— He texted Adam.

In 5 minutes, your ass is mine

And, of course, Adam replied:

OMG Yaaasss Daddy!!!🍆🍆🍆

[alavestineneas]

Losing dogs

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader

summary: His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return. warnings: not really canon-compliant, mentions of minor violence, blood and shitty relationships word count: 4k

Part 2 is here!

author's note: remember kids, manipulators and sick bastards are only hot in fiction - don't do them (and drugs) in real life!

The polished toes of his new shoes reflected everything in the grand hall—they caught glimmers of lamps adorned with gold, colourful drapes on the enormous windows, and the kaleidoscopic dresses of women around. The chatter filled the room, almost too loud to hear the music—not that he would enjoy it either. Some things require focus.

''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''

Corialanus's face melts into a smile-like expression at the sight of the older couple.

They look like lice in the large building—rich lice, that is. The golden and platinum rings on Missis Fabius's fingers shine with every gemstone known to man, mirroring the bright lights. The jewels look ugly on the wrinkly hand, he notes. What a waste.

''Mister Snow, what a surprise! I was just telling Livia of your prodigious success in your new position. Incredible work, Mr. Snow; simply incredible! ''

The man's face radiated with excitement, getting closer in shade to his burgundy tie. The gold threats on it piqued more interest for Mister Snow than the words of the old man—after all, it's not every day you meet such luxury in person.

The man's wife, however, seemed less enthusiastic; her cold, bored gaze circled him up and down, stopping only after getting the satisfaction of an undoubtedly unpleasant conclusion. 

Coriolanus mentally went over his outfit, hairstyle, and anything else she might have noticed. Nothing was out of place; the holes in his coat were a thing of the past. Still, it was something—that thought found its place in his brain, drilling a small hole in its way. 

''When will we know of your decision, Mister Snow? We gave you time—a lot of time.''

''This evening, Mrs. Fabius. After the play, I promise to give you my answer tonight.''

He has to look first. What fool buys a horse blind? Sure, the horse came with immense fortunes and, most importantly, connections, but still. He couldn't afford to make a hasty decision, especially when the stakes were so high. After all, he was one of the most desirable bachelors; Fabiuses had to thank him for even considering the offer.

''There is no agreement until tomorrow, Mister Snow. We will have you for breakfast at nine o'clock sharp,'' Mr Fabius said, placing a hand on his wife's back and leading her towards the entrance. They could afford not to make one's adieu.

The opera was popular among the richest; all of the seats were taken. He would have lied if he said the golden rails and red velvet didn't make him feel a bit out of place. Nobody paid him any attention, although this time it didn't hurt him as much as usual. He could hide in the shadows of his box seat without being concerned about making an impression.

Not the stage, of course. It was the least of his worries, although he did pay a high price for a ticket. No, he looked at her. 

The golden gown on her was a shimmering masterpiece. Layers and layers of the most expensive fabric covered her body like soft waves, crashing down at the round neckline with their gilded ends. She wore diamond earrings, just like her mother did, although they suited her better. 

Coriolanus remembered her from the academy; she always sat near the window, gazing out at the world with a longing in her eyes. She wasn't a very bright student but rather a dutiful one. always on time, always prepared with her assignments, and always eager to please her teachers. The heiress to the jewellery empire. The flower of the elite social scene. Her presence attracted attention, yet she seamlessly blended into the background, never stealing the spotlight. YN Fabius was everything he needed her to be—a picture, but never a spectacle. 

-

The manor was grand and opulent, showing the wealth and status of the Fabius family. Its sprawling gardens and delicate architecture were a testament to its esteemed position in society. Collums, paintings, and endless staircases stood as if frozen in time. It was as if there was no war just a decade ago. 

''Mister Snow,'' the butler called out, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. ''Breakfast is served in the blue dining hall; if you would please follow me.''

Thousands and thousands of steps and passages lined the walls, leading to various wings and chambers of the mansion. It was warm, even during the cold autumn season. Only keeping the fireplaces always lit must cost a fortune.

When they finally reached the needed room, Coriolanus was slightly out of breath. The blue walls reached the high ceiling, painted with pictures of half-naked gods and goddesses frolicking in fields of flowers. It created the illusion of a smell wafting through the air as if the vibrant colours had come to life. 

The table was served for four, not three, suggesting that someone else was expected to join them. The silverware gleamed under the soft rays of sunshine, casting a shimmering glow across the room—pure silver, nothing less. 

The door behind him opened with a gentle creak, revealing Mr. Fabiuse's humble figure. His simple, at first glance, shirt was another of the perfectly constructed illusions—Coriolanus knew the fabrics like the back of his hand. The shirt, though seemingly plain, was made from the finest Egyptian cotton, woven with intricate patterns. 

''Mister Snow, how good that you came on time. Excuse my ladies, the girls are such girls at every age. Take so long to get ready,'' he laughs. ''Please, take a seat," Mr. Fabius said, gesturing towards a plush chair covered in velvet. 

''There is no point in all of those paints once you hit sixty,'' Mrs.Fabius said, appearing right behind her husband. She circled the table before taking a seat herself, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at the young man. "Let's begin before the food grows cold," she added with a sigh, her tone tinged with resignation. 

''Of course,'' Mr. Fabius nodded, lifting the lid on the first dish. The aroma of it filled the room, and Coriolanus couldn't help but feel his hunger grow. He didn't have the habit of eating so much in the morning—another thing he needs to adjust about his routine. 

When Mr.Fabius finally placed the fork down, Coriolanus knew it was time. ''Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Fabius. I must say, I thought a lot about your proposal, and after careful consideration, I have decided to accept it.''

''Good.'' Mrs. Fabius answered instead, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that, Coriolanus. I believe this union will bring great delights to both of us." 

Mr. Fabius seemed not to notice the interruption. ''I think a winter wedding would be absolutely perfect. Everybody seems to be getting married in the spring, but in the winter? Oh, it's definitely going to be a hit. Ah, and here's the lucky bride-to-be!''

She stood beside the just-opened door, her eyes following his expressions. Her hands, adorned just with one small pearl ring, were gently clasped together in front of her. She looked nervous, like a child standing in front of the full class on the first school day. Her dress, a delicate lace creation, clings to her figure like a second skin. 

He smiled at her. YN looked like an antique statue, as if she just stepped out of the ruins of the Panem. Coriolanus wasn't even sure she was breathing—her stillness was so deep. 

''Let's leave the lover birds to chirp,'' Mrs.Fabius said, standing up. She walked towards the couple, her heels clicking against the floor, and extended her hand towards YN. "Congratulations, my dear," she said with a warm smile before leaving, her husband following after her.

''It's time for a ring, isn't it?'' Coriolanus cleared his throat. Everything is to be done appropriately; there is no reason to avoid traditions. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small box. White, of course—who is he, if not a romantic at heart?

''Mr. Snow,'' YN watched him stand up and come closer with the same expression she always bore—a mixture of melancholy and worship. ''Grant me something.''

He paused. Coriolanus didn't like to make promises. He would have to make it clear to her later, after the wedding—the fact that he took her for a bride was enough of a promise. Still, he needed this engagement to work, and he was not about to lose it to a crude lie. With a sigh, he softly replied, "What is it that you desire, Miss YN?"

''Promise me you will be kind to me. All of our marriage, promise to be kind to my heart.''

Coriolanus almost laughed in her face. Oh, what a lovely, clueless fool. "I will do my best to treat you with kindness, Miss YN."

''Good,'' she smiles. ''I think we will make a great couple then, Mister Snow.''

''Coriolanus, my dear. Please call me Coriolanus." 

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was sealed. His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return.

-

Mr.Fabius didn't lie—his daughter was the perfect bride. She never spoke to him unless he did first; she never questioned him. She simply followed his lead, like a well-trained pet. A pretty, lovely YN. She knew what to do, how to dress, and what to say. He searched for one—at least a slight imperfection—and couldn't find one; it was as if she wasn't a human, which, to him, she wasn't.

''What are you going to do today?'' he asks, without bothering to look up from the newspaper. He doesn't wish to hear her answer, but he still asks out of courtesy. Coriolanus knows that her daily routine is made up of attending charity events, dinners with influential figures's wives, and shopping for designer clothes. It's a predictable pattern.

''Well, the trees I ordered came in today; I'll have to chat with the new gardener about them. Are you meeting with anyone important later?" 

''As a matter of fact, I do. Larry Tremblay wants to include me in a business deal he's been working on." 

It's partly true, but she doesn't need to know more. Just a familiar name was usually enough for his wife to hum in satisfaction and assume that he was still climbing the social ladder. Not this time, evidently.

''You shouldn't accept.''

He looked up from his cup, trying to guess if she had gone out of her mind. YN looked like usual, her eyes meeting his without a care in the world. Why today, of all days, she decided to question his decision was beyond him. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. "And why should I decline such a good-looking opportunity?" 

''He beats his wife. Just yesterday, I saw her with bruises. ''

Coriolanus fought hard to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. He knew his wife wasn't the brightest, but this? "Is that so?" 

''Don't you understand what it means? The man only beats his wife for two reasons. If he has always enjoyed those types of things, which Larry did not, or if he loses power and control in other aspects of his life. The business isn't going as well as he wants it to,'' YN lowers her gaze, losing confidence in her voice. ''I thought you would want to know that.''

He would, very much. Her conclusion was the dumbest thing he ever heard, based on some black and blue marks and a twist of her imagination. Still, it was interesting—his wife's head wasn't always empty like he hoped. She thought enough to notice something, and she listened enough to remember his partners. 

''I will keep that in mind,'' he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. What harm could it do to entertain her thoughts? It was even slightly amusing to see her try to piece together a puzzle that didn't exist. 

-

It wasn't so fun anymore when Larry Tremblay was fired exactly two weeks later. Surely, it could be a consequence, but Coriolanus Snow didn't believe in them. There had to be something, anything, to explain his wife's sudden knowledge—she couldn't have acquired it on her own, about that he was sure.

YN looked unfazed by his questioning gaze as she lay on the dark olive-coloured sofa in his office, continuing to play with a snow-white kitten on her stomach. It was his wedding gift, one of many—the pricy creature with a diamond collar. He thought it was rather symbolic—two caged animals who were once considered sacred.

''How did you understand that Tremblay was about to be fired?'' Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with suspicion. It could be that she overheard the woman talk about it, or even that she had some inside information from her connections. What bothered him more was what she could know from the same source about him.

YN paused, her fingers gently stroking the kitten's fur as she met his gaze. "I didn't know that. I simply knew he had trouble at work. Evidently, they were big enough for him to lose his position." 

''Really?'' he chuckled. Maybe she was telling the truth. ''Then, what can you say about my work?''

YN's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your work doesn't matter; how you present yourself does. Can I give you some advice?'

 "Sure.'' Coriolanus bit his tongue, fighting the urge to snap back at her. After all, it is what he married her for—to fit in. He took a deep breath.

''Buy a new car, but not the most expensive one; it will give off an impression of stability, like you know the job isn't going anywhere. Your shoes are always too polished; it's like you wore them right out of the box. And throw away that hideous tie you always wear—you look like a student." 

''Something else?'' Coriolanus mustered a weak smile, trying to hide his frustration. 

''I don't want to offend you, Coriolanus. But I want you to do well. After all, you are my husband now, and your success reflects on both of us. Why not help where I can? You know I love clothes.''

''Good, '' he replied, forcing a more genuine smile. "Now get away from that cat before it scratches you. I'll figure out the rest on my own." 

''Of course you will. You are the smartest man I've ever met.''

-

He was. It was because of his intelligence that YN married him, because of his ambition. Well, that and something else. 

From her earliest childhood, YN knew what she was destined to be. She was the child of late parents, the only child, and a girl; she would inherit everything the generations of her family worked so hard to achieve. And YN was no fool; she needed a man. Driven, proud, and cold-blooded. The one who was not afraid to get his hands dirty while she spent her time leisurely in his shadow. Oh, no—YN never minded her place, much like her mother did. She taught her to bet on the finest horses, and Coriolanus Snow was no exception. 

From the time she saw him in his ridiculously tight shirt in the academy, she knew what she wanted. Him. The top of every class, the charmer with pretty eyes—a catch, really. Her mother said there was darkness inside her dear Coriolanus, but YN knew. That's why she now sits in the opulent living room, waiting for him to get home. Mr. Snow was a horrific, ruthless man. But he was still, at his core, a man. 

And men never listen. That's how she got him and got him good—a silent, fawn-eyed creature that he thought he could control. An obedient wife and a lovely lap dog. It was funny to see his gaze twitch slightly when she said something she wasn't supposed to—how long would it take him to figure it out? 

It's time—his tall figure appeared in the corridor leading to the living room. YN watches silently as he takes off his shoes and coat, placing them on the rack by the door. Home at seven p.m. sharp, just like any other day. Just like any other day, dinner is at the table. 

He never said thank you. Instead, her closet grew bigger with countless dresses, bags, and shoes—sometimes even brand-new jewellery. YN didn't mind it; she loved it—the jealous whispers of other women at the events about how lucky she was. She didn't have to sleep with a big, fat old man to get the latest fur coat or the most exquisite diamond necklace.

At least a few times a month now, Coriolanus would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. This night was one of those: YN woke up from the constant turning and tossing in the bed. She doesn't know how he didn't figure out why; it was easy to guess his food contained something to make his sleep far worse—YN made sure of that. Maybe he just didn't have the heart to admit his weaknesses, even to himself.

''Hey,'' she whispered, getting out of the warm covers. YN tiptoed over to Coriolanus' side of the bed, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. ''Hey, wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him awake. 

Coriolanus jolted upright, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped for breath. He wasn't; of course, he wasn't. Yn would have lied if she said she didn't find it hot to see him like this—sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest heaving. 

''You were having a nightmare again.''

He looked at her with the eyes of a lunatic, still not over his dream. ''What did I say this time?"

''You were mumbling something about birds and songs, I think? It didn't make much sense." 

He doesn't recall that she mentored the 10th game too. Without much success, of course, but one thing she did remember was a girl from District 12 who liked to sing. Coriolanus remembered her too; it was evident from the fear that crossed his eyes.

''Excuse me,'' he said, his voice still shaky. ''I need a moment.''

YN watched as he stumbled towards the bathroom, his hands twitching. As much as her husband wanted to hide those parts of himself, he couldn't. Not from her. 

There was nothing else to do but wait. YN climbed on the bed, turning her back to the bathroom door. Coriolanus would only come out when he thought she had fallen asleep. She learned to control her breath when she was just a little girl; it saved her life once, when a rebel pointed a gun at her small frame, meaning to shoot. He didn't—what use was it to waste a bullet on a non-breathing child?

Surely, after some time, the blonde man stepped out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, he listened to her steady breathing before sliding under the covers and pressing his body against hers, his large hand covering her shoulders. Coriolanus wasn't gentle; YN wasn't sure he knew what the word meant anyway, but he was careful. His arm around her chest wasn't tight—just enough for him to bring her closer.

As much as YN wanted to turn around and face him, she didn't. There was no point—like any other human, he hated the feeling of vulnerability. Instead, YN focused on the warmth of his body. Coriolanus Snow was a god more than a human, and real gods were never kind. The only currency they recognized was blood.

-

The annual party for the victor of this year's games. The first year Coriolanus Snow worked as a head gamemaker, his creation was a bloodbath, a spectacle of violence and despair. He did a good job—an excellent one, even—and one of the greatest stars of today's celebration was him.

They needed to dress the part in clothes that exuded power. And so they did. Coriolanus's suit was ample—purple velvet with gold embroidery—the colour of Roman emperors. The colour of the winners. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, suiting his white hair. Gold cufflinks, gold rings—he looked like a sovereign among men. It was risky to do so right in front of the current president, but who was Coriolanus Snow if he was not confident in his success? 

YN wore the gown from the matching collection, a floor-length masterpiece. The deep purple colour was a stark contrast to her skin tone. And jewellery, of course—she came from the Fabius family for a reason. The lavender diamonds on her necklace and earrings. They were rare—the rarest—even. Only a few violet diamonds have been mined in the past seventy years.

It was all anyone talked about behind their backs. Whispers, rumours, and so much venom dripped from the mouths of Panem's elite—that's what they were hoping for, anyway. The Snows were just as shamelessly rich as they were powerful. 

That's why they now sat at the President's table, just a few faces away from them. Coriolanus smiled to himself - not even the President's wife could compare to YN. Not in fashion, not in elegance. He had an impeccable taste - even a person far away from politics could see that.

''A toast!'' the President stood up with a glass in his hand, turning to face the Coriolanus. ''I am sure many of you know who was the mastermind behind the games this year - it's my pleasure to introduce Coriolanus Snow to those of you who don't. However, not many know his story of success. From a dirt-poor background, when his greatest possession was his family name, he worked hard to achieve the position he holds today. Let us raise our glasses and celebrate his remarkable journey to success and the country of Panem - the land of opportunity!''

YN cursed under her breath as she listened to the crowd cheer for her husband. He remained stoic - the only thing that gave away his fury was his eyes - they grew as dark as the sky outside. She didn't bother to calm him - this fire was impossible to put out. The President made a fatal mistake with his speech - she knows. But the true fear crept into her heart when she saw the President's wife pass Coriolanus the dish. 

Cabbage.

Under a fancy sauce, it could be transformed into a delicacy fit for their circle. But tonight, it was his last straw. The colours changed on the face of Coriolanus, from white to all shades of red. His fists clenched, and veins pulsed on his temples. The room fell silent as they observed.

''Oh, I am so sorry,'' YN chipped in. Quick, something. ''I have a terrible allergy to cabbage.'' 

The President's wife looked concerned. ''Oh, I didn't know.''

YN made her eyes water, throwing a coughing feat for more dramatic effect. ''I think I need to step outside for some fresh air." 

She felt a warm hand on her back. ''Let me accompany you, just to make sure you're alright." her husband announced, carefully leading her towards the exit. 

-

The first thing he did when they reached the women's bathroom was break the mirrors in a fit of anger. Shards of glass scattered across the floor as he paced around the room like a caged animal. YN watched as shouted and hit the walls, sitting on the bathroom floor. Beautiful one - the tile was a lovely shade of pink, contrasting with the chaos unfolding before her. 

After a good few minutes, he finally calmed down and sank to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands. Her husband, her hauntingly beautiful, pathetic husband - oh, what a sight. He looked mad, maniac, even; his blonde hair was far from its usual perfectly styled form, falling on his tear-stained cheeks.

"What do you think of me?"

His voice is hoarse, a few notes down from a honey-like. She likes it better, YN thinks - nothing of the fasçade he was trying so hard to uphold. No, just a raw hunger with a mix of equally raw despair.

"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."

She smiles, watching his expression change. He suspected it, of course - her husband was a smart man. Still, he can't believe it - his head twitches in her direction, his gorgeous bottomless eyes shining under the weak light of the only surviving floor lamp.

"What?" he asks with such a loss in his voice YN has to fight the urge to bring him close. Not now, she thinks. It's not the time. 

"A hungry, desperate, sick, sick animal with nothing to lose."

Coriolanus gets closer abruptly, clearly angered - she can't let him leave now. His arm shouts to find its place on her neck, long, slim fingers forming a circle around her throat. "You think I am after money, don't you?"

"No, no," a yelp escapes her lips, bordering a hysterical laugh. "Only fools are after money, Coriolanus, and you are no fool."

YN watches as he loses his grip a little, calmed by her words. What a pitiful, fascinating creature was her husband - one word of reassurance and he is willing to let thousands of cursings slide.

"What is it, then? What did you fantasize about in your small dull head?"

He still doesn't believe her. YN is surprised at how quickly it becomes boring. 

"You want power."

Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.

"That's why you choose the fear. People forget the hand that feeds them, but the one who beats? Never."

The frown on his face falls a little, and through the gritted teeth escapes something like a curse. "You talk an awful lot about me," he notes. "What are you hungry for?"

"You."

He laughs. That was a deep, chest laugh - YN thinks she never heard him laugh so sincerely. "You want my love? Don't lie to me, YN," he taunts, pressing a little harder on her neck.

"Not love. Love is easily swayed, is it not? No, I want you."

Coriolanus looks at her as if he never done so before. Well, he looked thousands of times, but he didn't see. His eyes study every expression in hers, every part of her face. "A hungry dog is not a loyal dog," he finally masters.

There is a certain silence after his words. YN gulps, desperatly trying to help her dried throat - the blood from his hands ran down her neck onto her exposed chest, leaving sticky, dark trails behind.

"Feed me, then."

He kisses her. He puts a force behind it, watching her hands fall on his chest for some kind of support. Coriolanus kisses her until there is no air in YN's chest anymore, and she has to push him away to take a rushed breath. 

They were going to be just fine.

After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.

[starbug]

[fleurhcss]

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐨 𝐈𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 - Seungmin x FEM!Reader

cw: some cunty and kinky shit, very hard sex, best friends to lovers, very possessive and hard dom seungmin with a sweet trait (im sorry i love my minnie), bratty reader, you are really a whore, stripper reader, mention of alchool and jealousy, handcuff

sw: hair pulling, pinv, cunnilingus, oral (M! receving), orgasm denial, multiple orgasm, scratching, biting, marking, bit of blood cuz seungmin is very kinky bastard MDNI!

wc: 7k

synopsis: Financially, you are not doing well. In addition to your part-time job, you attend some clubs in the evenings in order to earn a little more money. You do not mind showing off, as you love receiving compliments from men and finding new partners with whom to engage in sexual intercourse in order to satisfy your sexual frustrations. Your closest friend, Seungmin, is unaware of these circumstances. Given his protective nature, it is likely that he would take extreme measures to protect you. One unexpected outcome of the situation is that the individual in question has become a possessive dominant. He unintentionally discovers the extent of your job. This results in a particularly harsh fuck between the two, during which he is merciless. Your initial perception of him was that of a kind and gentle individual. However, upon further reflection, it becomes evident that he is, in fact, a complex and intriguing character. His actions and demeanor often elicit a strong emotional response, including feelings of intense arousal and even physical sensations such as bleeding.

a/n: hiii, I'm writing this since the chanel event! I'm sorry if i take request so sloowly but it's exam ses. now! Hope you will like this, i had fun writing it 🫶🏻🩷 made especially for this cutie @chrizzztopherbang . I opened a ko-fi account, i will post there some stories and drawings, if you want to support me i will be grateful to anyone who wants to give me tips, ITS NOT OBLIGATORY

[ SMUT ]

Another day at one of your many jobs. Lately you have been having financial problems. These included paying for university fees, rent, food, bills and other necessities. To supplement your income, you have been working four different jobs: bartending, librarian, after-school care every other day, and nightclub work every night. Your friends were unaware of this aspect of your life, as it caused you considerable embarrassment to discuss it. However, you did not feel uncomfortable about it. The practice of tipping for extra services was beneficial, although not all men were comfortable with it. Some men were able to satisfy the sexual frustrations of the women with whom they engaged in such activities. At this point, you were in the midst of a professional endeavour, helping high school students to improve their GPAs. It is remarkable that these students held you in such high esteem. Despite the exhaustion that inevitably accompanied the work, you found great satisfaction in your role. As you corrected the maths exercises of the esteemed Hana, an Anglo-Korean girl whom you held in high esteem and who always presented you with exquisite drawings, you contemplated the future once you had completed your current task.

At nine o'clock in the evening you were expected at one of the clubs in the city centre for your usual performance. In addition to the attractive salary, this job had another important advantage: you had always been passionate about dancing, and this was the closest thing you had to it. However, you had been forced to give up dancing for lack of time and money. After finishing the boys' homework and explaining some philosophical concepts and mathematical formulas, you retired to bed to get some rest. Fortunately, it was still six o'clock, allowing you to rest after an already exhausting day. You had studied in the morning, worked in the afternoon and now, in a few hours, you would resume your night work. The strange absence of your best friend's usual appearance or phone call had not yet occurred. At least he was fine. Seungmin was your best friend. He had two different personalities: during the day he was a polite and wealthy individual who showed considerable intelligence and respect; at night, when he was with his friends, he became a kind of Don Giovanni heartthrob. There is no denying that he had a certain appeal.

He was very protective of you and never allowed other men to interfere in your romantic life. As a result, he was the first to not know of your secret occupation. It is difficult to predict how he might have reacted, and it may have been for the best that he was not informed. If he ever discovered your secret, he would hunt down the men you were with one by one, and the outcome of that hunt was uncertain. He would then turn his attention to you, giving you a good-natured lecture and possibly resorting to other forms of intimidation. Your best friend was able to make him feel afraid, although you had learned this not from him but from Jisung, Seungmin's best friend, who had been caught having sex with his professor in Seungmin's car. You still remember his displeased behaviour and you were reluctant to provoke him further.

However, your premature declaration of triumph was premature, for he had not telephoned, but had arrived at your home just as you were about to fall into a deep sleep. The most disturbing aspect of the situation was the fact that you had given him the keys to your home, as he had been your closest friend for several years. So there was no need for you to get up and open the door for him, as he suddenly walked into your room in his gym clothes. This was somewhat unexpected, as he had previously expressed no interest in going to the gym. He himself noticed your puzzled expression at his unusual post-gym attire and appearance. "Good afternoon! Don't look at me with such disdain, Changbin Hyung is forcing Jisung, Felix and me to work out with him because he says we're too skinny," and you were overcome with laughter. The aforementioned were remarkably thin, consisting of two adorable little men with minimal musculature. They looked like little fairies, including Changbin, who seemed to have exaggerated musculature. Seungmin was considerably taller than the others and had broad shoulders. The image of him working out with them was quite funny.

"It's funny to consider the prospect of you working out with them. It is equally amusing to consider the prospect of you doing any kind of training at all, considering your past dislike of training," you concluded, making yourself comfortable and making room for your friend to sit next to you on the bed. He gave you a friendly pat on the arm and pouted in a way that was both endearing and characteristic of him. You had coined the term "Seungballons" to describe this particular pout, as it resembled a balloon. Furthermore, the addition of a pout in the form of a kiss would invariably render one unconscious. You found this behaviour endearing, and it prompted you to engage in a reciprocal act of affection by kissing him on the cheeks. "Ugh, in the end I have to admit that it is not without merit. It is a long-standing affair that is difficult to notice because of my tendency to wear baggy clothes. However, I have gained a considerable amount of muscle mass. Look." He said as he lifted the shirts he was wearing, causing you to be quite shocked because, yes, your friend had two pecs and a well-developed six-pack. His physical appearance provoked a strong emotional response, but he was your closest friend and you were unable to entertain such thoughts.

"You must tell Changbin that he has done an excellent job with you," you swallowed, made a feigned smile and drank some water, trying to erase the image of your best friend's partially naked body from your mind - although you did not mind. "I will, and I am grateful to you, my dear . Although we're going to a club tomorrow night; would you like to come?" he asked. You froze, considering the possibility of being caught. However, they did not usually frequent such places, so you had some protection if your luck did not turn against you. "I would like to tell you that I am unable to attend. I have a full day's work and then I have to prepare for an upcoming exam. Nevertheless, I would be interested to know where you are going, if I may ask." "I am not sure. Binnie Hyung informed us that he had discovered a new place and we were curious to know more about it," Seungmin said thoughtfully, and you felt a sense of relief that you still had the opportunity to withdraw.

But you were not convinced by your friend's desperate expression; you suspected he was hiding something. "Are you okay, Min?" you asked as you adjusted his bangs. "Yes, and I am worried about the taste of some of my hyungs, to be honest," he replied, leading you onto the bed and initiating a bout of tickling. That afternoon, your thoughts were not on the information your friend had given you. Instead, you found yourself contemplating his toned, naked chest. You had not anticipated his physical attractiveness, especially given his previous behaviour. You had grown accustomed to his puppy-dog appearance, with its endearingly youthful features.

So you did not consider the possibility that he might have been working out.

It was obvious that the ensemble suited him. Seungmin already had broad shoulders and one of your vices was to lean on them when watching a film or going out. It was a habit you had developed, but it was not a common occurrence. "Please don't change the subject. I'm curious about Changbin's tastes."

You giggled and pulled yourself together again. Seungmin was no innocent, so he blushed slightly.

His former partners had confirmed this to you, as they had discussed his sexual performance in great detail. However, he was ashamed to discuss certain topics in public or with you, as you were his best friend. He saw you as an innocent girl, which you were not. "Let's say he has a taste for strippers and nightclubs. That is all I am saying, and I am aware that it is a rather embarrassing subject".

He finished by running his hand over his face, making you chuckle.

"As if you had never seen a woman without her clothes on." You made the claim. In fact, he had observed numerous instances of female nudity, including those of his romantic partners.

"Yes, but I was with them. I am not like Hyung who has adventures with women who lap dance for him in night clubs". Had he been aware of this, he would have realised that this is exactly what you do for a living. "You have never considered fucking a woman you are not romantically involved with and who is not your girlfriend?" you inquired as you began to manipulate the fabric of his suit. "No, I'm... shy," he replied, biting his lip. He was looked at with a certain amount of disbelief.

" You! are shy?" you asked, looking at him with an expression that even he, as your closest friend, could not interpret. "Yes, I am," he replied, grimacing and then playfully pushing you. "You're really weird, Kim Seungmin," you pushed him back and then initiated a tickling session, blushing as you felt how well trained and sculpted he was under your touch. It was not the first time you had touched a well-trained chest, but Seungmin's did something to you. Maybe it was because he was your closest friend, or maybe it was because he was different from the others you had met, or maybe it was because you were used to seeing him consistently and exclusively as a thin individual with broad shoulders.

It can be argued that, without meaning to, you became preoccupied with fantasies about Seungmin to an extent that was inappropriate. Not only had you been friends for years, but he was one of your closest friends. Although you found it difficult to erase certain images of him from your mind, you felt guilty about thinking about him in a certain way. It is also worth noting that your nighttime occupation presented certain challenges. It would be highly undesirable for any of your friends, especially Seungmin, to become aware of your nighttime activities. On reflection, Seungmin had mentioned visiting a nightclub. If he were to find you on duty at one of the clubs where you were a regular, your situation would be untenable. It is unclear how Seungmin perceived you, but it is unlikely that he saw you as a dancer in one of the clubs that your best friend's best friend appreciated.

He suddenly asked what he should wear, causing you to look at him with a certain amount of concern. Your best friend was known for his occasional eccentricities. "Excuse me, but do I look like an expert on nightclubs to you?" you inquired, your tone betraying a certain concern. "No, but as a woman you might have the knowledge to dress me in a manner that would impress," he replied, almost shyly, though his demeanour betrayed his true feelings. "So my dear Min wants to impress a girl?" you inquired, playfully pinching his cheek as you laughed. He looked at you with a look of displeasure. "I am a man and I have not fucked for several months. I have certain... needs. By the way, it is undoubtedly a challenge for me to refrain from emotional connection during fucks. However, I cannot resist certain urges. Perhaps at the end of the night I can get a positive response from someone," he said in a low voice, his hands covering his face. "Are you really saying that you want to fuck while being all shy, Kim Seungmin?" You laughed in his face for the umpteenth time. "What do you want? It seems like you haven't fucked for a long time." He tousled your hair, but watching your expression closely, he returned it with a confused one, to say the least.

The problem was that you lacked the ability to lie effectively, especially in the context of deceiving him. As a result, you often displayed peculiar facial expressions that he was able to read with remarkable clarity. "Oh my God, fuck! You fucked with someone and didn't tell me?" he asked, his expression showing more anger than offence. "That is not true. You are imagining these events," you replied, trying to maintain a neutral expression. "Yes, you did. You fucked and did not tell me about it. You know you cannot lie to me, Y/N," he said, biting his lip with an expression that was both serious and intense. The atmosphere had become noticeably more intense, with a palpable sense of unease and tension. You were in a compromising situation and had placed yourself in a vulnerable position. You could have been sure that you felt the first drops of perspiration forming on your face. However, you were forced to end the discussion before it got to the heart of the matter. The most expedient course of action was to acknowledge that it had happened, even if in a limited way. "It happened on a few occasions when I was drunk, but it was not a regular occurrence," you said, trying to give a concise account. Nevertheless, he was not inclined to inquire about the incident in question.

"Only a few times when you were drunk? Are you crazy? What if something had happened to you?" There was the protective Seungmin you wanted to avoid. You were grateful for his concern and lack of complaints, but sometimes it became unbearable. "Still, it didn't happen. I am mature enough to understand the consequences of my actions, Seungmin," you said, pointing at him with your finger as if to admonish him. "Yes, I am aware of that, but I am concerned for your well-being," he said, grabbing your arm and then taking a bite. It could be described as a unique form of affection with which he expressed his apology to you. "I am aware, Seung, but don't worry, I am fully aware of my actions," you smiled at him, taking his face in your hand and planting a kiss on his forehead. "You should return home, as you are in a rather foul state, Mr Gym," you playfully admonished him, giving him a light tap on the shoulder before he left your domicile.

The working day was going to be quite long.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

You were deeply distressed and felt considerable discomfort throughout your body. At work the night before, you were forced to work an extended overtime shift (for which you were paid only half the normal rate). This resulted in a complex set of experiences, including physical pain and a significant financial reward. You were required to have sexual intercourse with two people, a task which you found unpleasant, particularly given the lack of arousal involved. However, the remuneration was satisfactory and you did not express any significant dissatisfaction. You were aware that the nature of the work was inequitable, but you found it necessary and occasionally used it as a means of satisfying certain desires. Fortunately, you had acquired the ability to fake an orgasm, which you used on some occasions, such as yesterday. At that time you were lying in bed, surrounded by books for your upcoming exam, and in a few hours you would have to go to work in the morning.

That night, despite your best efforts, you had to go to a club in the city centre. You had completely forgotten that Changbin was going to take Seungmin and the others to a club in the city centre, which could very well have been the one you were on duty at that night. However, you had not considered this possibility and your mind was so preoccupied that it kept slipping away. So you prepared discreetly for your exam, unaware that that night was the perfect opportunity for you to meet your closest friend, who was likely to be visibly distressed. You were due to perform your duties that afternoon and hoped that the number of customers would be relatively small, given your limited mobility.

The mere anticipation of returning to work that night caused a deep sense of anxiety. You hoped that no one would ask for private shows or other activities that you sometimes found unpleasant. The only desire was to rest and wake in a pool of wealth. You rose listlessly to prepare your lunch. It was not possible to combine work and rest in this way, so you had to take painkillers and vitamins.

You then found yourself preparing and serving smoothies and ice creams in your favourite café. Your day went on as usual. What you did not anticipate was the presence of your closest friend at the table you were to serve. One might ask whether you should not have been preparing for your evening activities. One is tempted to inquire about the nature of their joint venture in a café a few hours before their nightclubbing. They expressed their displeasure at the proprietor's suggestion that they should hurry to serve the aforementioned table, and furthermore, they could not avoid the situation, as Seungmin was aware that this was a table assigned to you, and sat there consistently with the intention of being served.

After a long period of contemplation, you approached them. "Good evening, shouldn't you be getting ready for your clubbing night?" you said, your tone sarcastic. Your friend smiled at you and pinched your side. You wanted to run away. "Jisung is unable to consume alcohol unless he has had a meal or smoothie beforehand," Felix informed him, drawing a scornful look from him. "It is not recommended to consume alcohol on an empty stomach." The boy explained that alcohol is absorbed more quickly into the bloodstream and the effects of intoxication are more pronounced. "Isn't that the point of going to nightclubs? And who told you this? Your respected professor?" the older boy asked jokingly. They looked at each other with a strange expression and Seungmin continued to explain the matter: Jisung had a somewhat unconventional relationship with one of his university professors, characterised by frequent flirting. "I have to respectfully disagree. Minho is a very good professor," he replied, blushing. Her expression was unmistakable. "You're calling him by his first name now, too," he observed, causing a general outburst of mirth, especially the adorable blush on Jisung's chubby cheeks.

"So what can I get for you?" you inquired, interrupting the conversation to take their orders and get out of your friend's company. You were particularly keen to avoid the question from your friend, who would undoubtedly invite you to the evening's event.

You had only been there a few minutes when you noticed Seungmin casting furtive glances in your direction and his friends teasing him about something you did not understand. Unbeknownst to you, they were teasing him about the fleeting glances he was sending your way. "Seungmin, did you notice that you are eating her with your eyes?" inquired Felix, appropriating the cherry from his milkshake. "That's not right," he replied, taking a sip from his glass. "Indeed it is. One might suggest that you ask her out," the blonde continued. "That would be an unusual and somewhat awkward situation, and then I believe she might be involved in a nocturnal affair, or perhaps even a series of them," he said, lowering his head. "And you are jealous! "Which leads to the question if this is what you want to do tonight," Changbin inquired. "Be silent. It is possible that I am indeed jealous. "

The observed behaviour was merely the incessant movement of lips in an attempt to escape the source of discomfort as quickly as possible. Fortunately, twenty minutes later the group left and Seungmin offered you a quick kiss on the cheek. This sparked further merriment among his small group of friends, causing you to become increasingly suspicious. Your only concern was to avoid running into them at the nightclub where you were working that night. This had been your intention since yesterday, since your closest friend had informed you of it. Your anxiety about this matter was greater than your concern about your inability to dance effectively due to the discomfort of the previous night.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

In the midst of your preparations for the upcoming show, you were forced to change your clothes in a hurry. Fortunately, you had already finished your make-up. The evening dress was of a revealing nature and the dancing was expected to be energetic. It was hoped that the wearer would not feel uncomfortable. Your colleague entered your dressing room and informed you that you were about to perform, so you began your usual stage performance for adolescent and middle-aged males.

The only people missing were those you expected to see at the club. The only discernible difference was that they were watching you, watching you with particular interest, especially your closest friend, who opened his eyes wide as he consumed no less than two shots in the space of three minutes. "What is she doing there?" he asked, clenching his fists as he fixed his gaze on you. "I'm sure there must be an explanation, and maybe she didn't tell you because she didn't want you to worry," Jisung said, grabbing his shoulders behind Changbin as Seungmin seemed on the verge of exploding. "She's undeniably attractive," the shorter one remarked, drawing a withering look from the younger one. "Hyung, I strongly recommend you not to make any advances towards her. It is already difficult enough for me not to pick her up from the stage, but I assure you that as soon as she goes to the dressing room, I will not let her get away from me." He downed another shot of vodka.

It is unfortunate that at the end of your nightly performance, another person followed you into the dressing room and you failed to notice the presence of Seungmin, who was standing directly behind you and had suddenly issued a silent threat. The incident was so severe that when you turned around you suffered a stroke and lost the ability to speak. Your situation was indeed very screwed up. "Seungmin, I can..." you were abruptly interrupted and led to your dressing room where he sat you down at your personal table. His gaze was one of intense desire, imbued with the combined effects of alcohol and rage. You had never seen him in such a state. "Explain? What exactly do you want to explain to me? Explain how you sold your body without ever telling me?" He said, grabbing your waist. That should not have aroused you.

"I have economic problems and this is the only job that offers a satisfactory salary," you said in your defence. "I am indifferent to the matter. I could have helped". You are my property, OK? No one is allowed to touch you, Y/N". He then kissed you with considerable passion and force. This was a source of considerable distress for you, as it was different from your expectations of the situation. Although you experienced a degree of pleasure, the situation remained somewhat unusual. His hands were of considerable size and appeared to be a suitable instrument for caressing. "Why not? Who decided that I belong to you?" you inquired in a teasing manner. At this point the situation became increasingly amusing for you as well. "I must now erase the memory of this unclean contact before I had the opportunity to do so," he whispered into your ear before reaching down into the hollow of your neck and allowing you to ingest the substance. "Seungmin, my legs are tired. I am unable to walk," you informed him, indicating your own limitations. "There are numerous other ways to satisfy our mutual desires, and we will address this particular issue at a later time." Furthermore, I am. While I wish to destroy you, I would never take advantage of a woman in this state. Remarkably, he remained in character as the usual Seungmin knight.

"What are you going to do in my dressing room?" you asked, watching as he bent down between your thighs and pulled off the suit you had worn for the evening. "I am not sure. I have a craving, if I may be so bold as to say." He smiled. This young man you had previously considered a potential threat to your sanity. He found your body aesthetically pleasing. He began another insatiable and passionate kiss. His hands descended in a sweeping motion, tracing a path down your body, cupping your thighs and gradually rising to your buttocks, which he gripped firmly in a vice-like grip. "Your beauty is such that it is unconscionable to wait any longer. I want you and I want to play a little," Seungmin said with a sneer in his voice. Then he moved you to the small sofa with the instruction to straddle his body. He proceeded to kiss your neck, leaving a series of marks. It was inevitable that he would bite you, it was apparently a habit of his. You had learnt it from his exes. He would bite you to let you know he owned you, bite you until you bled, and lick the mess he made. This aroused you considerably. He smiled, indicating that he understood. You were in a state where he could do as he pleased. No other person had ever made you feel such intense arousal.

"Look at you, you are ready for me to do anything I want to you." He was not aware of this either.

The young man moved closer to you, initiating another passionate kiss as he cupped your neck with one hand and used the other to caress your intimacy. The movements were slow at first, but soon accelerated as your best friend removed your panties and quickly stroked your clit. When he became tired, he began a long series of kisses on your inner thighs. He then grabbed your thighs and brought them up to his shoulders. He then began to leave kisses on your vagina. "Please don't wait any longer," you said and Seungmin laughed and then began to lick your cunt in a long slow motion. He cupped your ass as he massaged it. You had been waiting for this moment ever since he had put his thin, large hands on your waist the day before.

"Seungmin, please..." you almost begged him before arching your back in a series of involuntary gasps, clinging to the back of the sofa as best you could. You looked at him, pressing harder against his face, wanting more and more. He laughed as he watched the reactions he was provoking in you with each touch, which only served to increase his desire to possess you. He grinned as he continued what he had begun. His hands were firmly harpooned in your bottom and thanks to the pleasure you were experiencing, you had thrown your head back. He laughed again as his tongue continued its work. He found the taste of you on his taste buds particularly delicious, sending him into a state of intense pleasure. He was deeply and passionately in love with you, with every aspect of your being. His nose came into contact with your pubic hair as a result of the depth of penetration achieved with his tongue. He was enjoying himself to a considerable degree, as evidenced by your moans and the pulling of strands of his hair. Seungmin was not uncomfortable with this aspect of your behaviour, in fact he found it erotic in a special way. He smiled as his tongue explored your orifice in slow, circular movements designed to bring you to a state of ecstasy. Seungmin silently enjoyed the experience. His only goal was to ensure your pleasure. His hands moved to the sides of your thighs, which he slapped hard. He took pleasure in leaving his marks, but he would never do anything to harm you; he worshipped you.

Then his hands moved in a circular motion, grasping your thighs and placing them on your shoulders. His mouth, which had previously been in contact with your clit, moved to sink his teeth into your inner thigh. He took pleasure in leaving his marks on you. No one was allowed to touch his woman; you were his and his alone. You were his. A pocket knife emerged from his boot, the purpose of which was unclear. However, before this could be determined, he took your labia majora between his teeth and pulled them towards him, pressing them against his mouth in order to suck your clitoris. This was done in a manner reminiscent of sucking a straw. He then drew a thin line with the blade of the penknife, leaving a streak of blood, all the way to your mound. This brought you to a state of considerable arousal. He withdrew from your vulva, reached up to begin his work, and began to lick the warm, crimson liquid that was slowly oozing from the wound. In addition, the moans of pain and pleasure you gave him drove him to a state of unprecedented ecstasy. The sensation of your mouth alone was more fulfilling than any other experience. He continued to suck on the blood dripping from the wound, causing further lesions on his breasts, around his nipples, in his groin and near his navel. This only accelerated his orgasm. Furthermore, when he inserted two fingers into your mouth, which was already open, he continued to stimulate your tongue. "Look at you... my submissive slut," he said, smiling.

He sneered as he took your face between his fingers. The picture showed you in a blood-soaked state. After a short interval, he withdrew his fingers and proceeded to stimulate your orifice by alternately inserting and withdrawing his digit. This was done in such a way as to create a deep sense of arousal. Seungmin was fascinated by the prospect of fucking you at that moment. "What is your desire, my princess?" "Not that you can do much in this state," he said, laughing, referring to his fingers inside you. "I want to touch you," you whispered, your voice hoarse from the constant moaning. "You can do better than that," he winked, then pulled away and sat you down on your side, then stood up, took off his trousers and sat down beside you. You stood frozen for a moment at the sight of his length; he was tall and compact. You had never seen one like it before.

"I see you are happy with it, Princess," he said, bringing your face close to his. You had fully perceived what he was trying to achieve. You were fully aware of his intentions. You were incapable of uttering any further words, as if his imposing stature had put you in a state of trance. He then proceeded to rub the head of his member against your lips in what appeared to be a teasing manner. It was not difficult for you to open your lips and make contact with the glans. You then proceeded to suck on the tip and then ran your tongue along the entire circumference and veins. You stimulated the testicles with your hands, causing him to moan hoarsely. As you continued to insert him fully into your mouth until you reached the uvula, you let out a moan that caused his member to tremble. This elicited a high-pitched moan from him.

"Fuck, baby like that." He explained that by grabbing your hair and then fucking your mouth, you were sure that you would come again if he continued.Indeed, your assumption proved to be correct.

That is exactly what happened.

"Fuck Y/N, I'm coming, take it off," he said, removing his hand from your hair. But you had no intention of removing your mouth. You grabbed his thighs and thrust his member deep into your throat, causing him to release inside you with a long, audible moan. You swallowed, licked your lips and looked at him. "You are incomprehensibly unaware of the effect you have on me," he winked. "I can, however, inform you of the effect you have on me." You giggled, then reached up to his ear and planted a kiss beneath it. "You have brought me to another orgasm," you said with a hint of mockery.

"Now, if it pleases you, I would be grateful for a date and to clean you up," he smiled as he led you to your private bathroom. "I would be most honoured, sir," you replied, laughing. It was not the ending you had expected.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The experience of being discovered by Seungmin during a night shift would not be on any normal person's bucket list. However, the incident led to a change in your life. Seungmin had persuaded you to quit your job at a nightclub because he was concerned about your welfare and did not want you to be used as a mere object by men. Among other things, he had offered to support you financially until you found suitable alternative employment. He helped you to find a job that offered a comparable income and was adamant that it did not involve the exploitation of your body for sexual gratification. Although you were initially reluctant, given your long-standing opposition to his financial support, you eventually agreed.

The unexpected meeting also took place. He had invited you shortly after your encounter in the dressing room while he was discreetly cleaning up the mess. To be honest, you had never considered Seungmin as a potential romantic partner. However, your perspective had gradually changed over time. Back then, his friends, who were also your friends, had informed you that he had been casting furtive glances at you and had developed an interest in you. This confused you at first, but you eventually got used to it. You also had to prepare mentally for the meeting.

You did not deny that you were a little apprehensive; you were unsure of the destination he had in mind for this evening. He had instructed you to dress in a way that was both comfortable and tasteful, but your anxiety was growing. After a long shower, you began to look through your wardrobe, but it was difficult to choose an outfit without knowing where you were going. In the end, however, you chose a relatively simple ensemble consisting of a black ruffled skirt, not too short, and a top of the same colour that left your shoulders bare and had a boat neckline. You wore your beloved wedges. If you had to choose between them and heels, based on what Seungmin had told you about elegance and comfort, you would have chosen the latter. Your make-up was minimal, your hair was wavy and fell to your shoulders, your necklace was tightly fastened around your neck and all your jewellery was in its proper place. You completed your ensemble with a fruity and very sugary perfume before heading into the living room to wait for your no longer best friend.

Seungmin arrived shortly afterwards with a large bouquet of roses, in keeping with his reputation as a gallant man. You smiled as you remembered that he had not been in bed with you, especially after the knife performance. He said, "For you, my princess," and then kissed you on the lips. The anticipation of the evening's events had been palpable, yet the simplicity of the act itself evoked a deep sense of emotional resonance. The culmination of this experience was the tender kiss beneath the earlobe, accompanied by the words, "I hope you are well prepared as we have a long night ahead of us".

It was your firm belief that if he had continued to talk to you like this throughout the evening, you would have been so aroused that you would have removed your underwear, even if there had been no physical contact. In fact, you sighed before placing the roses in a vase of water and accompanying him to the car. It was a revelation to you that the vehicle in question was of considerable size. It was also admitted that Seungmin looked particularly handsome that night. He was wearing a black tank top and loose black trousers. His appearance was complemented by a leather jacket and jewellery. His footwear consisted of half-heeled ankle boots, which were as black as the rest of his outfit. His hair was lightly gelled and curly. He was a man of considerable qualities and attributes. You licked your lips and he watched, giving you the opportunity to do so. It was inevitable that he would drive you out of your mind as soon as he could.

There was no denying that the car ride had contributed to the evening's events. He held your thigh firmly in his hand and massaged your skin, occasionally reaching under the fabric of your skirt. He was aware that this was having a positive effect on you and you were similarly pleased by the experience. He felt a sense of predatory intent, like a predator with a vulnerable prey in his grasp.

The evening was going well. He had taken you to a modest restaurant at an elevated location, and you had enjoyed a sumptuous meat dish accompanied by an excellent wine. It was obvious that he had not missed the opportunity to cast certain glances at you as he sipped the vin rouge in his glass. He continued to look at you in an increasingly intimidating manner. The conversation went well and you had always enjoyed his company. The topics were varied and engaging, even when a situation had developed between you that couldn't be defined with a specific term. However, it seemed that Seungmin had anticipated your thoughts, as he initiated a discussion on the matter. "Considering that this is a full-fledged date, I would like to suggest that we raise the status of our relationship to boyfriend and girlfriend. I don't think there's any need for a proper dating, as I'm aware of your preferences," he said, raising his eyebrows as he took another sip of wine. "I agree, except for one thing: you do not know me well enough to have discovered my clandestine activities." You provoked him, knowing how the subject would arouse his jealousy. "I did not expect you to go so far." "I have always thought of you as my princess and hoped that you would eventually ask for my help." He wrinkled his nose. "Minie, it is important for me to be able to support myself. I am grateful for your help, but once I have secured employment, I would prefer you to stop helping me, okay?" you smiled with a pout in response.

Perhaps I should pay and we could go to my place?" he asked, smiling, before wiping his lips and getting to his feet. You did the same, but were stopped by him. He took your hand and kissed it before leading you to the exit. "This dinner is a date, and I am paying as usual. You are my friend and I will treat you properly," he said, making you blush. The gentleman in question displayed admirable behaviour and etiquette when dealing with women. He knew how to treat women with the respect and consideration they deserved. It is worth noting that in addition to the bedroom activities mentioned above, you had also gained an understanding of his somewhat eccentric behaviour outside the bedroom. You then waited outside the restaurant for him to return. He reappeared shortly afterwards, accompanied by a second bottle of red wine. "It was an excellent meal, and I have a plan for tonight. You'll see what I'm capable of, my dear," he said with a chuckle, then led you to the car and drove you both to his home.

To say that he did not even allow you the opportunity to survey the surroundings, despite your intimate familiarity with the house, was an understatement.

He immediately picked you up and carried you to his bed.

He then disappeared, returning with two goblets of wine.That night will remain indelibly etched in your memory.You watched as Seungmin took off his jacket and black shirt, leaving the vision to his well defined abs and the glittering necklace he was wearing.As you watched him take a sip of wine after almost completely undressing, you had to admit that his actions made your entire body tremble. Your panties were now soaked. "Now, Princess, undress for me," he said, grinning and licking his lips.He then lay on the bed with one hand behind his head and the other holding the goblet.

By this time the positions had been reversed, with the man on the bed watching your every move while you knelt in front of him, removing each piece of clothing until you were completely naked in front of him.

"How beautiful, come closer," he murmured. You approached him on all fours, the naked intimacy of your body matching his, still fully clothed. He watched you for a long time, as if to etch your image into his memory. You smiled and shivered as he began a gentle caress of your form. He caressed your cheek, shoulder and breasts in that order. He then moved to the other breast with his free hand, having previously placed the cup on the table. He began to massage it at a slow and deliberate pace, appreciating the texture of your skin. He then teased your nipple with his fingers, before pouncing on it with his lips and doing the same to the other. One hand, which had previously been at the back of your neck, now moved to your waist, where it began to caress it. His touch was so seductively overpowering that it left you breathless. He applied pressure to your hip as his lips played with your breasts. He then moved to your shoulders, biting and branding them. Your hands were clenched in his shoulders, scratching them lightly as you rubbed your vulva against the covered flap of his trousers. "Wait a moment, I want to feel you on me," he whispered in your ear.

He separated your bodies for a brief moment, then proceeded to undress you completely, allowing your intimacies to collide. "How about riding me?" he asked, smiling and winking. Your lips parted in surprise at the mere suggestion. It was highly unlikely that you would have survived the night. Seungmin was like a mermaid whose enchanting song was meant to captivate and enchant. You swallowed and then nodded in agreement. You applied gentle pressure to the head of his penis between your labia, causing you to pant and eliciting a moan from the Major. He had brought one arm back behind your head while the other held you tightly against him, increasing the contact. You lowered yourself completely onto him, allowing him to enter and fuck you completely, which he did with considerable force. Your moans mingled, accompanied by a soft exclamation of "Fuck!" from him. "Your cunt is both tight and warm, which feels very good. You should start to move," he instructed, and you complied. Normally such an act would have been abhorrent to you, but with him it was all so natural.

As he stroked your hips, you had begun to move at a slower pace. It was a sensation you had never experienced with any other partner. It was as if Seungmin had an innate understanding of the exact places and techniques needed to touch you. Your movements became faster and faster and your nails were driven into his back. "Min, I'm coming. I can feel it. My thighs are burning. Please, speed up!" You were on the verge. "No, not yet," you grunted, then changed positions. You vocalised your displeasure as he withdrew from your embrace, feeling a sense of emptiness. At this point you were positioned beneath him as he continued to penetrate you, his imposing frame towering over you.

You were sure that an orgasm was imminent, given his position on top of you as he thrust vigorously into you. However, he seemed to disagree, indicating that he was not interested in facilitating an orgasm. He claimed that it was too early for such a reaction. So he withdrew from you, leaving you with an empty feeling. "Please, Seung, I can no longer stand it," you begged him. Only after he had pushed you with an animal force did he give you permission to come. "Your warmth and tightness are so arousing...come for me," he whispered, allowing you to release yourself around him. He informed you that they had not yet reached the end of the act. He then turned you over on your stomach and began to leave bites and marks on your back, tracing a trail of them all over your ass. He continued to lick and slap the area between your buttocks, causing you to moan. Despite this, you still had some residual sensitivity from the previous orgasm.

You were unable to speak as he sank back into you, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling it towards him as he thrust violently, abusing your cunt. You arched your back and rolled your eyes, no one had ever given you such intense pleasure. "Ah... Seungmin... please..." you moaned one last time before you came again. "Who gave you permission?" he demanded, thrusting at a surprisingly fast pace. It was relatively easy for you to reach your third orgasm in a row that night. "Seungmin, I'm about to..." The words were barely audible.

"Come with me," he groaned and then proceeded to ejaculate into you and you after him, now exhausted. "I will get you the necessary cleaning supplies," he murmured, then stroked your side and got a cloth soaked in warm, damp water to clean you. He then tied your hair into a braid and made you a cup of hot tea after dressing you in a pair of clean briefs and one of his shirts. "You look so lovely," you murmured, trying to relax on his chest. "It's the least I can do after making you come how many times?" he said, laughing as he pinched your side. "Three, but don't boast, sir," you gave him a tongue-lashing. "Do all gentlemen do it rough?" you burst out laughing.

TAGLIST 🎀 : @yongbokkiesworld @gloomy-k @raindropsondragons @linocvp1d @iiamthedramaa @snowyquokka @pynchkilledme @y4kie @ihrtlix @hyunjinnnsgirl @sugarsweetsugarsweet @reader1221 @bubblebisk @chrizzztopherbang @skzooluvr @yoontaethings @ovr9000

[hajoon-iz-won]

Magnetic Force of a Man

smut 18+ mdni

Pairing: ceo!Jay x worker!Y/N

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, dom!Jay, impregnation, dirty talk, fingering, pussy fucking, female masturbation, age gap (4 years), exhibitionism, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 5.4k

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I cursed as I stared down at the tear in my brand new sheer pantyhose. "Run-proof my ass! "

Shaking my head in dismay, I quickly looked around the large underground parking garage, praying to God that no one could see or hear me as I hurriedly positioned myself between my front door and the driver's seat of my beige sedan, hiking my lavender pencil skirt up to my ass, and then slid the ruined pair of hose the rest of the way down my legs.

Thankfully, I packed an extra pair!

I sat down on the side of the car seat and removed my violet high heels, almost like I was pulling out the replacements, taking them from the packing and quickly began slipping my feet inside.

The voice of a man said abruptly, "Yes, that's right."

My breath caught in my throat, I paused and turned to see the source of the voice. I was stunned by what I saw and halted abruptly, my new pantyhose halfway up my legs.

He had a great appearance. He was sitting at least fifty feet away from me, yet I could still see the platinum shine of his watch as he raised his left arm to check the time. He was dressed elegantly in a navy blue suit. His shiny black low-cut hair must have reached at least five eleven" in height.

With a dark satchel clasped in his right hand, he confidently walked towards the elevator labeled "PRIVATE." His broad shoulders, confident gait, and commanding presence evoked the image of a male model seen in GQ publications. His whole demeanor was confident.

I could tell that he was chatting to someone else and not about me or my pantyhose dilemma when a blue light blinked next to his ear. He never even gave me a sidelong glance.

I eventually snapped back to reality as he slid behind one of the pillars and finished pulling on my pantyhose. I tucked my skirt in and put my stilettos back on, eager to begin my first day of training as an executive assistant for Park Industries within the enormous, imposing Park Business building. (It seems the corporation required more than one because it was so large.)

I'd never seen or heard of Jay Park, the CEO of the company, before applying for this job. Even though I had looked him up online, all the pictures I could find of him included him wearing dark sunglasses and hats, which made me think he was probably a very secretive person. It appeared that he would much rather maintain a very low profile than be in the spotlight.

Nothing could have prepared me for the day I visited the Park Building for the first time, even though I had finished an internship at a Fortune 500 corporation close to my college campus.

My first interview had been with a woman named Son Eunsaem. She'd had a highly professional appearance and a no-nonsense attitude. She hadn't smiled once during the interview.

I was surprised when I got a call back for a second interview. That was where I met the other executive assistants. Park Industries had an executive assistant for each and every department in the company, and I had applied to the marketing department.

And I started working on the actual job today. At nine o'clock, I had my official orientation meeting, and then I was meant to meet with Jay Park, the company's CEO.

On their first day of work, all new hires were required to meet with the CEO, who was said to like having face-to-face meetings with each and every one of his staff members. I'll admit that I was anxious, but I was also interested to see this billionaire's true appearance.

The thirty-story building housed the marketing department on its twenty-fifth floor. At the orientation, there was another new hire in addition to me. Ryu Hanbin was his name, and he had been employed in the software department.

At orientation, our ID cards were issued to each of us. We were granted entry to the elevators, break facilities, and exits reserved for employees only. My heart started to race inside my chest as the orientation was coming to a conclusion.

Hanbin and I were taken to a private employee elevator and showed how to use our ID cards to operate it. Jay Park's office was on the top floor, and that's where our orientation leader, a middle-aged woman named Won Chaerin, led us up.

As the elevator door opened at the pinnacle floor, we had been greeted with the aid of using a short, stout, but very neat and well-groomed bald guy with a cleanly-shaven face in a vibrant purple pantsuit.

"Welcome to Park Land,” he stated with a welcoming grin as he reached out to shake our hands. "That's what we name the pinnacle floor, right here." He appeared to laugh after each sentence he spoke. “My call is Jinyoung, however all of us right here calls me Jin.” Another laugh.

What a unusual guy, I thought.

He led us down a hallway that ended with a reception table and a small living room area. There had been high-returned black leather-based chairs and a large flat-display tv withinside the ready area. There additionally regarded to be a bar of a few kind in the back of the reception table.

"Y'all can simply make yourselves comfortable whilst I allow Mr. Park recognize you are right here,” he instructed us with every other laugh earlier than sashaying returned to his spot in the back of the reception table.

"Thank you,” I instructed him as I took a seat in one of the leather-based chairs and crossed my legs.

As I sat ready, my heart commenced to overcome so rapid that it felt like it'd leap up out of my throat at any second. A stolen look over at Hanbin noticed his foot nervously tapping in opposition to the carpeted floor, and I felt relieved that I wasn't the simplest worried individual withinside the room.

A second later, the telephone on Jin's table rang, and he spoke back it on speaker.

"Send Ms. Y/L/N in first,” the voice said in a deep, authoritative tone.

"Right away, sir," Jin answered as he glanced over towards me.

I stood up and accompanied him down but every other lengthy hallway, with stylish artwork lining the partitions and porcelain statues each few feet.

At the quit of the hall, there has been a fancy-searching door with a platinum door knob.

"Knock, knock,” Jin said in a singsong-like voice as he knocked on it twice before turning the knob and pushing it open. “Ms. Y/L/N, meet Mr. Jay Park.”

He waited for me to step inside the large, elaborately decorated office before shutting the door behind me.

I stood there, with my back to the door and my orientation folder in my hand, not sure what to do next. Mr. Park had his head down and was doing something on his phone, but as soon as the door closed, he looked directly up at me, and my jaw almost hit the floor in utter awe.

Jay Park was none other than the sexy, model-esque man who'd been walking through the employee parking garage earlier.

I knew I was staring, but I didn't care. The man was a real-life Adonis.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N. Come. Have a seat.”

It was more of an order than a request, but I didn't mind. He had the most hypnotizing pair of eyes. They were a deep, dark br, and I felt as if I could get lost in them if I stared too long.

He didn't smile, but he didn't frown. He was eyeing me curiously as I made my way over to the chair in front of his huge, rectangular desk. I felt as if he was sizing me up for something... something other than just this job position.

"So, Ms. Y/L/N, you are twenty-four and you have an MS in Business Management. Impressive. What are your plans in the next five years?”

I felt completely on the spot. I cleared my throat before speaking.

"Well, I'm hoping to be working a job I love, maybe get promoted, and start moving up in the ranks."

"Hmm," he said quietly.

I leaned forward a bit and noticed that he had a folder open with my resume, cover letter, and some photos of me inside.

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

My heart sped up and began to beat harder than ever. He had removed his suit jacket, and his white silk shirt hugged his toned upper body with flair, accenting the broadness of his shoulders.

I shook my head and swallowed hard as my body temperature began to rise. No man had ever had such a profound effect on me. I could actually feel heat starting to build within my core and a noticeable tingling between my thighs.

He walked around to the back of my chair and stood behind me. My heart was beating a billion beats per minute.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

I shuddered at the feel of his breath against my lobe. My body was completely on fire for this man, and he hadn't even touched me. I was at a loss for words.

I wanted to glance up at him, but I was frozen in place like a stone statue, and all I could do was sit there facing forward as I waited to see what was going to happen next. From behind me, I heard him inhale deeply and then exhale slowly.

“Ahh, your perfume is intoxicating, but I sense something else about you, Ms. Y/L/N. You are in your prime,” he stated sensuously, his voice barely more than a whisper.

His lips were so close to my neck that his breath felt hot against my skin. It caused a shiver to run down my spine, and I had to muster every ounce of strength to keep a moan from escaping my lips.

Then, suddenly, he stood straight up and walked back around to the other side of his desk, and his demeanor had returned to a strictly professional one.

"Mrs. Son was quite impressed with you and spoke very highly of your interview," he said plainly as he sat back down in his chair.

"Really? Wow," I replied.

"You sound surprised," he said with a slight grin. "I know she can come across as somewhat ‘rigid, but it's all just part of how she does her job. She's extremely professional and would make an excellent poker player, no doubt.”

He chuckled slightly at his comment, and I uttered a small giggle as well.

"Well, I'm certain you'll be a definite asset to Park Industries, Ms. Y/L/N. Welcome to the team,” he said with a smile.

His smile revealed a set of the most perfect pearly whites I had ever seen up close. While staring at them, I almost missed the fact that he'd also extended his hand to me.

"Thank you, Mr. Park,” I said nervously, returning his smile with one of my own.

"You have a lovely smile, Ms. Y/L/N," he stated softly, still holding onto my hand after I'd stopped shaking it.

“Thanks,” I said coyly, tearing my eyes away from his before I became completely lost in them.

He ran his thumb slowly across the side of my hand before finally letting it go. That small, simple touch from him only added more fuel to the fire that was already building in my loins.

“Ms. Y/L/N? ”He called out to me just as I was about to leave his office.

"Yes?" I replied, turning around to look at him one more time.

"I'm having a small meeting this evening at the Italy Garden restaurant. The dress code is semi-formal. Can you be ready by 7:00?”

"Uhh, yes. Certainly, Mr. Park,” I replied, caught completely off guard.

"Great. I'll send a car to your place at 7:00, then.”

I left his office feeling flustered in more ways than one. It had been more than a year since I'd last had sex, and my attraction to Mr. Park was anything but subtle. He had a magnetic effect on me, one that I knew I was incapable of fighting.

I walked swiftly down the hall, past the small lounge where Hanbin was still seated, and into the ladies' restroom directly adjacent to Jin's reception desk. Breathing hard, I went into one of the stalls, set my folder down on the back of the commode, hiked my skirt up to my waist, and yanked my pants down to my thighs.

Panting like an animal in heat, I sat down on the seat and spread my legs.

"Mmm," I muttered as I closed my eyes and placed my right hand on the crotch of my thin satin pants.

Yanking my pants to the side, I exposed my moist, partially-swollen bud and began to massage it. Another moan escaped my lips as I bucked my hips and rubbed my pussy faster and harder.

I imagined that Mr. Park was in the bathroom stall with me and that he had pulled my pants to the side. It was his lips and tongue against my throbbing, swollen bulb, causing sighs and moans of delight to escape my mouth and sending me into a frenzy of pleasure.

“Ohhh,” I murmured softly as I pictured him rubbing the head of his hard, pulsating cock against my slick, hot slit.

I imagined his hands grabbing my ass cheeks and squeezing them hard in a fit of primal, uncontrollable passion. I pictured him entering me slowly at first, until his rock-hard dick was deep inside my pussy, stretching me to the limit.

"Fuuuck," I whispered as I plunged my fingers as deep into my warm, wet tunnel as they would go. "Yesss! Fuck me, Mr. Park!"

I imagined his cock moving in and out of me, faster and harder, fucking like wild animals as we both got closer and closer to our climaxes. Completely and totally engulfed in how unbelievably good the sex felt, neither one of us even cared that we were fucking unprotected.

"I want you to cum inside me, Mr. Park,” I imagined telling him. “Oh fuck, yessss! Cum in my pussy! Fill me up with your cum."

I didn't even care if I got pregnant or not; I just needed to feel his hot cum inside of me.

I was right on the brink of my orgasm, and I could already tell it was going to be a really good one. As I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out in pleasure, I pictured myself biting down on Mr. Park's ear to stifle my passion-filled moans.

My legs began to shake, and my hips bucked uncontrollably as a powerful climax wracked my entire body. I imagined Mr. Park squeezing my ass cheeks hard as his cock squirted into my cunt, filling me to the brim.

"Ohhh," I whispered, uttering a sigh of satisfaction as my orgasm began to wane.

After taking a moment to enjoy the afterglow, I quickly cleaned myself up, left the restroom, and headed back down to the 25th floor to finish out my workday.

I had just finished putting on my makeup when I noticed it was 6:45. The dress I had selected for tonight's meeting was a long, form-fitting silver cocktail gown I'd bought last spring. It was elegant, with a touch of sex appeal. The back dipped below the waist, and the front wrapped around the neck.

At 6:54, I heard a horn blow outside of my apartment. I slid into a pair of silver stiletto sandals, grabbed a small silver purse, and headed outside.

"Wow!" I exclaimed when I saw the pearly white stretch limousine waiting at the curb.

A tuxedo-clad chauffer opened my door for me and helped me into the back seat.

The inside of the limousine was immaculate! There was a fully-stocked bar with liquor, wine, and champagne. There were wine glasses on a glass shelf next to the bar. There was also a small fridge with fruits, cheeses, and other exotic-looking snack foods.

I helped myself to a glass of champagne and turned on the satellite radio to listen to on the way to the restaurant.

When we arrived about twenty minutes later, the chauffeur helped me out of the limo, and I walked inside. An older male host in a black and white suit was standing at a podium near the entrance.

"Good evening, Madam. Welcome to the Italy Garden restaurant. Do you have a reservation?” he asked.

“Umm, yes. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here for a dinner meeting with Mr. Jay Park,” I replied anxiously, trying hard to hide how nervous I truly was.

The five-star dining facility was way out of my league and price range. I had never been in a place so upscale and fancy. There were scores of expensive-looking pictures hanging on the walls and exquisite artifacts and statues in and around the corners.

I followed the host to a luxurious VIP balcony area where Jay Park was already seated and waiting for me.

"You look amazing, Ms. Y/L/N," he said, flashing that billion-dollar smile that made me want to melt right where I stood.

"Thank you," I replied shyly, returning a smile his way.

The host pulled out my chair, and I sat down.

"I've taken the liberty to order us a bottle of the finest champagne this place has to offer,” he told me with a grin. “What are you in the mood for?”

I couldn't pronounce a single dish on the menu.

"I'll have whatever you're having," I said softly, closing my menu and setting it to the side. I didn't want to risk embarrassing myself in front of our waiter.

"This champagne is delightful," I exclaimed before taking another sip.

"Only the best for a woman as perfect as you, Y/N," Jay stated sweetly.

It was the first time he'd ever called me by my first name. I could feel my cheeks reddening as I smiled somewhat sheepishly.

"So where are the rest of the meeting attendees?” I asked inquisitively as I glanced around the area we were seated in.

"This meeting is just for you and me, Y/N," Jay said in a sultry tone of voice. "There's something about you, Y/N, that drives me crazy. Ever since you walked into my office, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

I felt the same way about him. He was definitely the most attractive, magnetic, and alluring man I had ever met. I was just too shy to tell him so.

Dinner was absolutely incredible. The food was delicious, and I'd probably had a bit more champagne than I'd actually intended to drink. After a perfect meal, Jay led me back out to the limousine, and we both got into the backseat.

As we talked about our backgrounds, childhoods, and future plans while drinking top shelf champagne, I suddenly remembered that I hadn't even asked him where we were headed. Before I could even form the words to inquire, the limo slowed to a stop.

"Where are we?" I asked, just as the chauffeur opened the door.

“My place,” Jay replied with a grin. “I hope that's okay with you. There's something I want to show you."

Normally, I would have thought twice about going to the home of a man I'd just met, but there was just something about Jay that made him all but irresistible to me.

His house was beyond magnificent. The outside of it took up damned-near an entire city block, and the front yard stretched out around the sides of the house. There was a huge, circular, paved driveway at the front, and the limo had stopped directly in the middle.

I couldn't even imagine what it was he wanted to show me. I felt both excited and anxious simultaneously.

Taking my hand inside his, he proceeded to lead me through his humongous residence, showing me all of the different paintings and other extraordinary decor and informing me of the countries from which they'd been ordered. Finally, we came to this nice, dimly lit room with a beautiful faux fireplace against the rear wall. My eyes widened in amazement as we entered the romantic-looking space hand-in-hand.

"Wowww!" I exclaimed, as I had done several hundred times since we'd first gotten out of the limo. "This room is so..."

“Enchanting? ”Jay stated in a questioning tone, finishing my exclamation for me.

"Yeah! Definitely!” I agreed as I looked around in bewilderment.

There was a bar counter in the far left area of the room and what appeared to be a fully-stocked mini bar behind it. A lavish-looking cream-colored sectional sofa was in the middle of the space, facing the fireplace, and there was a huge matching rug laid out in front of it.

Just as I was about to remove my shoes out of respect for the rug, the lights suddenly dimmed lower, and about a hundred faux candles all lit up simultaneously. Also, smooth, relaxing, slow music immediately began to play. The candlelight appeared to dance to the beat of the music.

I was totally speechless and utterly astonished. I had never seen anything like it before. I glanced over at Jay, who had already removed his own shoes and was filling two wine glasses at the built-in mini bar.

"Please, have a seat, Y/N,” he said amorously, nodding toward the sectional.

I sat down and continued to enjoy the ambiance of the supremely romantic setting until he soon came over to join me and placed a glass of champagne in my hand.

"So? Do you like it?" he asked after taking a sip of his drink.

"Like it? This is absolutely amazing!" I said with a huge grin.

"I'm glad you think so. I've never brought any woman into this room until tonight.

"I find that extremely hard to believe,” I said honestly."

I may be a lot of things, Y/N, but I am definitely not a liar,” he asserted. “Men like me don't have to be in order to get what we want."

“Now that, I absolutely do believe,” I replied with a grin. “So, what is it that you want with me? ”

"Ahh, the billion-dollar question," he said sultrily.

Just then, a very popular song began to play.

"Ohh, I love this song!" he said excitedly as he stood up and held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

I didn't refuse. He pulled me upward and into his strong arms, and I wrapped mine around his neck. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating. I closed my eyes and pressed my body against his as we swayed to the music. Caught up in the moment, I felt like I could stay in his arms like that forever.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away for a moment and looked deep into my eyes.

“Y/N, you have it all. I adore your womanly physique, your stunningly bright brown eyes, and the fact that you are a very intelligent young woman. You are damned-near flawless. From the very first moment you walked into my office, I have had an undeniable, overwhelming attraction to you, and I know you feel it too."

I was completely speechless. I mean, what was I supposed to say? How do you even reply to a statement like that?

In all honesty, I was just as attracted to him as he was to me, but with him being both my boss and such a wealthy, sophisticated man, I think I felt a little bit intimidated. I'd never imagined myself being wined and dined with a billionaire Adonis like him.

I just kind of stood there, gazing into his tantalizing eyes like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.

"Y/N,” he whispered as he suddenly spun me around so that he was behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Yes," I whispered back to him as the feeling of his warm breath against the nape of my neck instantly made me moist between my thighs.

I moaned as his soft lips brushed against the lobe of my him,. My body was instantaneously on fire for him and he had barely touched me.

"I want you," he whispered as his manly hands found my breasts and cupped them through the thin fabric of my cocktail dress.

The tips of his fingers found my nipples, causing another moan to escape my mouth. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, and then suddenly, my dress slid carelessly to the floor. I was braless, and this seemed to turn Jay on even more.

He groaned as I felt his manhood begin to stiffen against my ass.

"Y/N, you're fucking perfect,” he said gruffly, his voice raspy against my ear. “I want you. And you want me, too, don't you?

"Yes, Jay, yes," I moaned.

His hands squeezed my breasts, and I sighed loudly, arching my back. I felt his stiffening cock twitch in his pants.

"I'm twenty-eight years old, and I'm not getting any younger, Y/N. I've been looking for the right woman to bear my offspring, and you are the perfect specimen. I know you probably walked into the Park building today with your own plans and aspirations for your career and whatnot, but I have to be honest with you; I want you to bear my children.”

It was a lot to take in. He had certainly said a mouthful. I wasn't so sure about having kids with a man I'd just met, but he was definitely different from any other man I'd ever met, and odds were that I'd probably never meet anyone quite like him again.

His right hand slid down my midsection and into the front of my satin pants. I hissed with delight, biting down on my lip to stifle my cry of pleasure. He was applying just the right amount of pressure to my bud, and I was grinding my crotch against his hand.

"Don't hold back, Y/N,” he ordered in a breathy voice. “Let it all out!”

With that, he slid two fingers inside my dripping-wet pussy. I thrust my hips forward and let out a cry.

“Fuck, your pussy is already so wet for me! ”He declared with a grunt, pressing his erection against my ass.

Just as I was about to climax, he stopped, pulled his fingers out of my pants, and turned me around to face him. He put his fingers in his mouth and sucked my excitement out of them. My face flushed with need.

Then he pushed me down onto my knees as he undid his pants, releasing his stiff, throbbing cock. It was large—larger than I'd expected. It was definitely the biggest dick I'd ever seen in my twenty-four years on this earth. But I didn't care. I was going to try my damnedest to swallow it whole.

I caressed the shaft as I slid my tongue around the tip of his cock, teasing it gently, and then sliding it down into my mouth as far as it would go. I sucked it slowly and easily at first, and then I took my hand and used it with the rhythm of my mouth, sucking it as hard and fast as I could.

Groans fell from Jay's lips as he grabbed my hair and fucked my mouth. Then suddenly, he stopped me.

Easing the rest of the way out of his pants, he pulled me up toward him again and kissed me passionately, using his tongue to invade my mouth hungrily. I moaned as he began to trail his lips and tongue down my neck, pausing to lick, suck, and fondle both of my breasts, and then continuing down my belly until he reached the top of my pants.

With his teeth, he worked my pants down over my hips and buttocks, letting them drop to the floor near my dress. He parted my thighs slightly, using his fingers to slide my folds apart and massage my bud. Then, his lips replaced his fingers against my moist, pulsating pussy, and I cried out in sheer passion.

He was so skilled and talented—his tongue was like a fucking vibrating sex toy! He grabbed and squeezed my ass with one hand and used the other to slide two fingers back inside my pussy. I couldn't take it anymore!

"Fucckkk, I'm going to cum, Jay! I'm going to cum...so...fucking..." I couldn't even finish my sentence. His fingers pressed against my g-spot, and his tongue darted fast and hard against my pussy, sending me completely over the edge with the most powerful, intense, earth-shattering orgasm I had ever experienced.

My entire body shuddered and shook, and my legs tensed up. I grabbed his head as my crotch jerked forward uncontrollably against his face.

"Shiiiiittt! Oh fuuuuck!" I screamed loudly, unable to speak any other words.

When my climax finally began to wane, just as I was about to catch my breath, Jay suddenly lifted my legs up on his shoulders and gently pushed me down onto the soft, cream-colored rug lying me down on my back.

Not wasting a second, he slid his huge, hard cock into me slowly, with my legs still hoisted up on his shoulders.

I moaned long and hard as he stretched me to my limit, sliding deeper into my pussy than any other man had ever been.

“Fuck, Y/N, your pussy's so tight and wet! ," he exclaimed, moaning as he began to thrust in and out of me, going deeper with every stroke.

I was moaning so loudly that I could barely even hear the music playing anymore. His own groans became louder and longer with every thrust of his burly hips.

I reached up and wrapped my hands around his neck as he started fucking me harder and faster. It wasn't long before I felt a second orgasm building, getting closer and closer...

I still wasn't exactly certain about letting him impregnate me and make me the mother of his children, but the sex was fucking earth-shattering. I had never been fucked so good before! I felt his huge, stiff cock plunging in and out of me as I cried out in delirious pleasure.

Just as I was about to scream out loud, having reached my second powerful orgasm, he let out a loud, long groan, and I knew he was there, too. We were climaxing together simultaneously, and for a brief moment, it was like the two of us became one in our own world of bliss.

I felt his cock spurting his hot cum deep inside of me, filling my pussy to the brim, but it felt so fucking wonderful that I didn't give a shit. Besides, he was rich and handsome and could fuck like a damn machine.

As we finally came back to our senses, Jay kissed my lips as he slid out of me and plopped down on the rug beside me. The fake fire was still going, and the lights and music were still playing.

"That was, by far, the best sex I've ever had in my life,” I said breathily as I looked over at him.

"Me too," he said sultrily as he slid his arm beneath my neck.

With that, his eyes closed, as did mine, and we both drifted off into a satisfied slumber.

Jay and I continued to fuck like rabbits over the next few weeks, having hot, steamy, amazing sex every chance we got. And every time he came, he shot his hot cum deep inside of me.

Three weeks later, my pregnancy test came back positive. Jay was ecstatic, of course. At first, I had mixed emotions. I was going to become a mother. Was I really ready?

He immediately made me quit my job and put me in a beautiful condo with a view that overlooked the entire city. He found me the best doctors in the area and accompanied me to all of my prenatal appointments.

So I wouldn't be able to work for a while. I mean, babies don't stay babies. They eventually grow up into adults who can take care of themselves. Who knows? Once I've raised my kids, perhaps I'll still want to go back into the workforce.

For now, though, I think I'll just enjoy swelling with Jay's seed, growing rounder and riper by the day.