#Or just passing strangers if even that is too bold

[jkwrites-m]

Another Time (1)

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: soulmates, past life, thriller, smut, fluff, angst

Word Count: 7.9k

Summary: When Y/N and Jungkook begin sharing vivid dreams of each other, their connection feels too real to ignore. When tragedy from a past life begins bleeding into the present, they’re forced to unravel the mystery of love, betrayal, and fate.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, emotional child abuse, shitty ass parents, slight cursing, sexual tension, fluff, cigarettes, alcohol consumption (pls drink responsibly!!), kissing, heavy petting (??)

A/N: hi so this is my first ever fic (: I normally just read but one day (abt 3 months ago) I wanted to write something so I decided to try and it took me a that long bc I’m really lazy and suffer from perfectionism so I had to write then rewrite the entire thing first 😭 anyways please enjoy and let me know what you think and any criticism is welcome! - m 🫶

Notes : okay ONE more thing 🤧 anything in normal text is present day. Anything in BOLD is a dream-memory. Okay NOW you can enjoy 🫶

MASTERPOST

♡ next

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There are things in this universe no one can truly explain.

Not with science. Not with reason. Not even with faith. Some things simply are. They’re undeniable, inexplicable, scary. 

Like the way a stranger can stop you in your tracks with a single glance. You’ve never met them, yet something in you stirs like a memory. A flicker of recognition that doesn't belong in this moment, but somewhere before it. You feel it before you understand it: the quiet certainty that this person was never a stranger at all.

Or how a passing scent that carries the trace of something familiar. Cigarette smoke and spring rain, warm vanilla and leather, a perfume you haven’t smelled in years. Then suddenly, you’re not standing in the present anymore. You’re somewhere between then and now, in a place you remember too well.

And then, there’s the connection. The kind that you don’t form. It’s the kind that you remember. You meet someone, and it doesn’t feel like the beginning. It feels like you're returning. You speak in glances, in comfortable silences, in laughter of stories that have long since passed. As if your souls had been waiting, circling back through lifetimes just to find each other again.

═══════

You remember how your mother used to talk about love.

Not just in passing, clichés or fairy tales, but with the influence of someone who had lived it. She spoke about her father like he had been written into her story long before they ever even met. She’d say his name like it held her heart. And every time she did, you felt something hopeful bloom quietly inside you. 

On quiet days, coloring at the dining room table, where the sun would slip through the kitchen windows and the world outside felt calm, she'd tell you how she first saw him. How he wasn’t trying to be noticed. He didn’t have to be. He just was. A first glance on that blind date, a leap into the unknown from the suggestion of a friend, and somehow, she knew that he was the one.

“I loved him before he ever looked my way,” she would whisper over coffee, stirring the spoon slowly like she was turning back time. “It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t planned. But I just… knew.” She said it in a way that made you believe her. Not because it sounded magical, but because it didn’t. It sounded like the truth. Like something your own heart might recognize one day too, if it ever got the chance.

Somehow, it became the blueprint for my own dreams. I didn’t just want love. I wanted that. That unshakable certainty. That gentle breath of familiarity. But even before I could name it as love, before I ever heard her stories of fate and forever, there was him.

That funny-looking boy I saw every night in my dreams. His large eyes always had a hint of curiosity and playfulness. For as long as I could remember, he was always there. With eyes I never really understood but always trusted. The dreams weren’t centered on me, though they came through my eyes. He was always the focus, the center of every scene. I watched him grow alongside me, getting older with each year, his features maturing just as mine did. The way he would look at me with more love in every single dream. 

═══════

The playground smelled like sunshine and peanut butter.

The bell had barely finished ringing when the doors burst open and kids flooded the blacktop like bees from a hive. It was the kind of day where the air was crisp but the sun still made your cheeks warm. Rust-colored leaves dotted the corners of the chain-link fence and crunched under running sneakers.

Jungkook ran straight for the jungle gym, sneakers squeaking as he slid down the metal pole like a firefighter. He landed with a triumphant “Ta-da!” and turned, grinning wide when he saw her.

Y/N stood nearby, hugging her puffy red jacket close, watching him with a shy smile. She had a piece of bubblegum in her mouth and a Barbie band-aid on her left knee.

“You saw that, right?” Jungkook asked, bouncing in place. “I totally didn’t fall this time.”

“I saw,” she giggled, stepping closer. “You looked like a superhero.”

Jungkook puffed out his chest. “I am a superhero. Want me to save you from lava or something?”

Y/N grinned. “Only if the lava is pink.”

“That’s the worst kind,” he said seriously. “We’ll need snacks before we go.”

They made their way to the tire swing, spinning each other so fast that their laughs got tangled in the wind. At one point, Y/N stumbled off, dizzy, and landed in the grass.

Jungkook flopped down beside her, brushing dirt off his sleeves.

“Hey,” he said after a moment, poking her arm.

“What?”

“I like you.”

She blinked at him.

“Like a lot,” he added. “Like more than pizza.”

Her eyes widened. “That’s a lot.”

He nodded solemnly. “I think I’m gonna marry you one day.”

Her face went bright pink. She covered it with her mittened hands. “You can’t say that!”

“Why not?” Jungkook grinned. “You’re my favorite person.”

She peeked through her fingers. “Well... I guess I like you too. But I still like pizza.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “We can have pizza at the wedding.”

Y/N burst out laughing.

The teacher blew the whistle. Recess was over.

But as they lined up, side by side, Jungkook reached out and took her mittened hand in his.

Just for a second.

And neither of them let go too quickly.

═══════

The strange thing was, it never felt like now. It always felt like then. Like another time entirely. The clothes, the places, the colorful lights and blur of a different decade. When I was little, I thought maybe he was just in my imagination. My make-believe friend that night had brought to life. But as I aged, the dreams didn't fade. They grew sharper. Eventually, a bitter understanding settled inside of me: he was from the past.

And yet, knowing that didn’t make it any easier to let go.

I never stopped searching for his face. Even when I didn't realize it. My eyes would drift across train stations, cafés, bookstores, airports. Scanning crowds without meaning to. Not for anything in particular- just for him. That face I would know in an instant. That echo from my dreams that never left. 

Maybe it was my mother’s stories that kept the hope alive. Maybe it was something older, something deep within me. But even in the moments when I told myself to stop believing in things I couldn’t explain, the never ending search continued. 

And then one day, it happened.

Not in a dream. Not in memory.

In life.

═══════

Jungkook never believed in love.

Not because he didn’t want to. But because, in his world, love was nothing more than a hollow word people used when they had to. In his house, silence was more common than words, and cold glares were the constant norm.

His parents had never loved each other. At least, not in a way he ever saw. They moved around each other like strangers forced to share the same space. There were no soft touches. No laughter through the walls. No bedtime stories. No warm goodnights. Just clipped sentences, slammed doors, and the ever-present disdain beneath the surface.

And for him? Well, he was just existing. A fixture. An afterthought. Someone they were forced to provide for but never nurtured. No hugs or encouragement. Just expectations, rules, and dismissals that cut deeper than words ever could.

So when he would fall asleep and the dreams would happen, he hated them.

Every night, like clockwork, she would appear.

That same girl. That same face. Always glowing with a kind of warmth he couldn’t understand. Always smiling at him like he was someone worth loving. And the worst part? They were happy. Together. In love. He’d see them laughing, holding hands, growing together through many make-believe summers and cozy winters that didn’t belong in his world. He saw their first kiss. Their first time. The way she looked at him like she knew him more than he knew himself.

═══════

It was the Sadie Hawkins dance, and the lights had been dimmed just enough to feel like something important could happen—but not so dark that the chaperones couldn’t still see everything.

Y/N stood near the refreshment table, fidgeting with the hem of her pink dress, hands slightly clammy. Across the room, Jungkook was talking to his best friend, but he kept sneaking glances at her every few seconds, like his eyes had their own crush and weren’t good at hiding it.

She had asked him last week, stammering so badly that he hadn’t even answered at first. He just nodded really fast like a bobblehead, cheeks as red as a cherry slushie.

Now they were here. Together. At an actual dance. And it felt like the whole world had tilted just a little.

A slow song started playing.

Jungkook appeared at her side like a ghost in an ill-fitting button-down shirt.

“Wanna dance?” he mumbled, voice cracking a little at the end.

She smiled, heart pounding in her ears. “Okay.”

They moved to the middle of the floor, hands hovering before they finally found each other, his hands on her waist, hers on his shoulder. They swayed awkwardly. Off-beat. Too close, then too far. Her nose bumped his once.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s okay,” he whispered back, his smile crooked and nervous.

Their foreheads were nearly touching now. Everyone else had disappeared - their classmates, the disco ball, the terrible decorations made from crepe paper and glitter glue. It was just them. Two kids with too-big feelings and too-small words.

“I... um,” Jungkook started, blinking. “Can I... kiss you?”

Her eyes went wide. “Right now?”

He nodded, petrified.

She swallowed. “Okay.”

They both leaned in too fast and bumped noses again. She tilted her head the other way and Jungkook followed, and after a moment of complete, breathless chaos

Their lips meet.

It was clumsy. Quick. Barely there. But it was warm. And electric. And perfect in the weirdest, most middle-school kind of way.

Y/N pulled back, wide-eyed and stunned.

“Whoa,” she whispered.

Jungkook nodded slowly. “Yeah. Like... wow.”

She giggled, and he laughed too.

And for the rest of the night, they danced without saying much, just grinning like fools who’d discovered something the universe had been keeping secret just for them.

═══════

It was fucking infuriating.

He didn’t want to see her. He didn't want to want her. He didn’t want to wake up every morning with the ache of something lost. The dreams felt like a cruel joke. A taunt from the universe that seemed to mock him with everything he would never have, and worse, everything he didn’t deserve.

And still… she kept showing up. Always the same eyes. Always the same kindness. Never pushing, never judging. She was just simply there. A promise etched into his being. A truth he didn't ask for.

So he tried to ignore it and drown it out. Bury himself in a cold detachment, a trait he unfortunately inherited, in girls who didn’t remind him of her. He picked up habits that offered easy silence. Those became his comfort, his escape, his rebellion to the universe.

The drinking started as a way to sleep without dreams. The smoking was more about the waiting and something to do with his hands when the nights got too quiet. They numbed the edges of things, blurred out the longing, buried the ache beneath a haze he could control. He told himself the dreams meant nothing. She meant nothing. Just static in the brain. A side effect of loneliness and an overactive imagination.

But then he saw her.

He saw you. In real life.

In this life.

And all that anger, all that resentment, all those years of bitterness crumbled with just one look.

Because it was her.

The girl from the dreams.

The girl who’d haunted him in the corners of his mind, who he thought was nothing more than a fantasy.

And suddenly, he wasn’t angry anymore. He was infatuated . Completely undone in an instant. Not by what he remembered, but by what was standing right in front of him. Her, completely real, breathing, and even more beautiful than any dream he had ever captured.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to approach someone he’d loved and resented for so long. Someone he’d never met, yet somehow knew like a book he helped write. 

He just knew the moment he saw you, the universe stopped joking.

═══════

A neon sign buzzed faintly in the window of Vinyl & Bean, the downtown café tucked between a record store and a flower shop, with Bowie’s “Let’s Dance” playing low through the jukebox. Outside, snow drifted in soft spirals, glossing across the sidewalks in a glistening coat of white that made the world feel hushed and still.

Jungkook sat at a booth in the far corner, bouncing his knee beneath the table, fingers tapping the lip of a paper cup. His leather jacket squeaked slightly as he adjusted in the seat. The café smelled like cinnamon, espresso, and old books. It felt like something out of a movie.

She walked in, hands shoved into pockets, laughing at something the barista said as she stepped through the door.

And just like that, everything else blurred out.

She wore a denim jacket patched with band logos, hair a little damp, cheeks pink from the cold. There were tiny snowflakes clinging to her lashes, and a glint in her eyes that knocked the air out of Jungkook’s lungs.

She saw him and lit up like she always did.

“Well, well,” she teased, approaching the booth. “You waited for me.”

Jungkook stood too fast, knocking his knee on the table, cursing under his breath. “Always,” he said, trying to play it cool and utterly failing. “You’re my favorite person to wait for.”

She laughed, sliding into the seat across from him. “That was dangerously charming.”

“Was it?” he grinned. “Good. I rehearsed that one.”

She rested her chin on her hands, looking at him like he hung the stars. “You’re nervous. You only rehearse lines when you’re nervous.”

“Not true. I also do it when I want to impress someone wildly out of my league.”

“Smooth,” she giggled. “So, what’s the occasion?”

He shrugged, then handed her a folded napkin. “Just wanted to spend the day with you. Also… I wrote you a poem.”

She blinked. “You wrote me a poem? Are you trying to kill me?”

“You’ll live. Barely.”

Unfolding it, she read aloud: ‘Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are you’

 She groaned. “God, you're such a sap.”

Jungkook beamed. “And yet, here you are. Still dating the sap.”

She reached across the table, curling her fingers around his. “I’m dating you, Jungkook. The sap just makes it better.”

Outside, the rain kept time with the music inside, an old Prince song fading into Eurythmics, laughter buzzing through the café from a few tables over.

They talked for hours - remembering stupid inside jokes, debating the best love song of the decade (“It’s Endless Love,” she insisted, and he pretended to be horrified), and playing that game where they guessed what strangers were saying at other tables.

He watched her like she was a moment he didn’t want to blink through.

And the whole time, his hand in his jacket pocket fidgeted with the little velvet box.

Now, his heart whispered. Do it now.

But every time she laughed or looked at him with those soft, knowing eyes, the words tangled in his throat.

So he cleared it. Looked down. Looked back up.

“Hey,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

She tilted her head. “Sounds serious.”

“It is,” he said. “Kind of.”

She stares up at him, giving her full attention, wrapping her fingers around the mug for warmth. “I’m listening.”

Jungkook stood suddenly, heart pounding against his ribs like a drumline, and came around to kneel beside the booth. The whole café didn’t stop (this wasn’t a movie), but it sure felt like it did.

Her eyes widened. “Wait - what are you - ”

He opened the little box.

And there it was.

A ring. Delicate, gold, with a small round diamond in the center.

“I know it’s not the biggest ring and this isn’t the fanciest place. And I’m definitely sweating,” he laughed nervously. “But I’ve loved you since the first time you forgot my name at daycare. I’ve loved you through every mixtape, every late-night phone call, every time you made fun of my handwriting.”

He swallowed, eyes bright.

“I want every coffee with you. Every snowy day. Every slow dance in a parking lot after everyone else has gone home. I want this. I want you forever. So… will you please marry me?”

She just bursted out laughing. Not mocking, not dismissive. Just overwhelmed joy, bubbling out like a soda shaken too hard.

“Yes,” she breathed, nodding furiously. “Yes, yes, a million times yes.”

Jungkook blinked. “Wait, really??”

She pulled him up by the collar of his jacket and kissed him right there in the middle of the coffee shop, hands in his hair, the ring still in the box between them.

“Of course really,” she whispered. “You’re it for me.”

Jungkook kissed her like it was the first time all over again, grinning so hard he almost missed her slipping the ring on by herself.

He sat beside her after, heart still racing, holding her hand like it anchored him.

“You know,” she teased, “this better not be a dream.”

═══════

The scent of coffee beans drifted through the air, rich and comforting, clinging to the worn wooden beams of the café ceiling. It was a quiet Tuesday morning in Seoul. 

It was cold enough that my breath was still visible as I stepped inside, a scarf wrapped around my neck and the directions on my phone still running. The city was still unfamiliar. Fast and loud - it made me feel alive in a way that was both thrilling and intimidating.

I took a tentative step toward the counter, the soft chime above the door echoing faintly throughout the shop. I really didn’t mean to find this place. But it was warm, and something tugged in my chest, telling me to go into the coffee shop tucked on a quieter street near the subway station.

That’s when I saw him.

Sitting at the far corner table, dark hair tousled, sleeves pushed up, showcasing tattoos I’d never seen before. A black coffee steaming in front of him.

It was him.

The boy from my dreams. From the night before.

He looked older here. Real. Less like the soft, loving film reel I’d been watching in my sleep for years and more like someone the universe had dragged across decades just to place here, in front of me, in flesh and blood.

My pulse skipped. My hands went cold. But I couldn’t look away.

═══════

From his corner, Jungkook lifted his eyes and felt something punch the air from his lungs. A girl stood near the door- eyes wide, lips parted slightly, cheeks pink from the winter chill- and for a moment he thought he was dreaming again. It was her. The girl. His girl. He blinked hard, trying to shake you loose from his imagination.

But she didn’t disappear.

You didn’t disappear. 

Neither of us moved. The noise of the café faded into a soft hum, the way the dreams always dulled the background. It was just us now, and the heavy pounding of unspoken recognition.

I stepped forward slowly, with my heart in my throat.

Say something, don’t just stand there. 

I felt like a kid again, all awkward limbs and restless thoughts, but the pull was too strong to ignore. My voice came out softer than I wanted.

“Hi,” I said, brushing her hair behind one ear. “Sorry, this is going to sound weird, but… you look really familiar.”

Jungkook stared at her, startled, heart hammering. The dream version of her had always spoken first. And the real version? She was right here. She was real.

He panicked.

“Yeah?” he muttered, already pulling his gaze away. “Don’t think I know you.”

His voice wasn’t cruel, but it was clipped. Cold. Defensive.

I blinked. “Oh. I - sorry. I just thought…”

I trailed off, cheeks going red again. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything. He wasn’t the same person as the one in my dream. 

I quickly turned, my stomach sinking as I reached for the door.

Then came the scrape of a chair behind me.

“Wait.”

I paused, hand on the door, but I didn’t turn around.

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair and stepped closer, his voice softer now. “Sorry. That was… I’m not good at first impressions.”

I turned, eyes cautious. “You think?”

He gave a smirk. “Okay, I deserved that.”

I bit down on my lip, torn between annoyance and disbelief. “I was just trying to say hi. You looked familiar.”

“So did you,” he said quietly. “Too familiar.”

We stood there, the tension between them shifting- less sharp now, more curious.

“I’m Jungkook,” he said, giving a small bow before holding out his hand.

“Y/N,” I replied, copying the bow and placing my smaller hand in his. His grip was warm. Steady. Electrifying.

“You just moved here?” he asked.

I nodded. “That obvious? I’ve wanted to live in Seoul since I was a kid. Kind of surreal.”

Jungkook tilted his head, his eyes sweeping over me with more interest than he probably should’ve shown. “Dream city for a dream girl, huh?”

I laughed, caught off guard by the line and the sudden switch to flirtation. “Oh god, is that your idea of flirting?”

“It’s working, isn’t it?” he winked.

I shook my head, blush spreading up my neck. “Barely.”

“I know this is forward but, can I have your number?”

My brows lifted. “Why?”

“So I can text you bad puns and pretend it’s not an excuse to see you again, obviously.”

I smiled despite myself and handed my phone over. “Fine. But no attitude next time.”

He typed in his number, a giant toothy smile gracing his breathtaking face. “Promise.”

We parted with a lingering glance, both carrying a spark neither wanted to admit was fate.

I walked away feeling like the world had tilted just slightly into place. Mom’s stories whispering into my ear. 

And for the first time in years, Jungkook didn’t feel like running from his past - he felt like chasing the future.

Something that had been waiting for both of them.

In dreams.

And now, finally, in reality.

═══════

Morning light spilled across the bed in warm, golden stripes, slipping between half-drawn blinds and brushing over tangled sheets, tousled hair, and two grinning faces buried in each other.

Y/N blinked awake to the soft weight of Jungkook’s arm across her waist, his thumb lazily drawing circles against her skin.

She turned slowly, still not quite believing the sparkle of the ring on her finger.

“You’re staring,” she whispered, finding him already awake, already smiling.

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, voice husky with sleep. “I proposed to the prettiest girl on Earth last night. Kind of want to make sure it wasn’t a dream.”

She smiled, eyes fluttering. “If it was, we had the same one.”

Jungkook leaned in and kissed her. It was slow, lingering, the kind of kiss that tasted like shared futures and morning breath you didn’t care about. His hand slid to her hip, tugging her slightly closer.

She gasped quietly when he deepened the kiss, noses brushing, fingers finding bare skin beneath the covers.

“Hey,” she whispered, breath hitching. “You’re getting handsy.”

“I just got engaged,” he whispered back, lips grazing hers between words. “I earned it.”

She giggled, burying her face in his neck as he trailed kisses along her jaw.

“Slow down, Romeo,” she teased, pulling the blanket higher. “You already locked me in.”

“Just making sure you stay locked in,” he said with a wink.

And they stayed there just tangled in warmth, laughter, and love that felt like it had always been there.

═══════

The next morning, Seoul looked different.

I walked these same streets just yesterday, bundled in my coat, trying to memorize subway exits and the names of cafes, but now it all shimmered with a quiet kind of electricity. 

Maybe it was the coffee still lingering in my system. Or maybe it was the number saved in my phone. Jungkook . It looked strange seeing his name there, not scrawled across the edges of sleep, but real.

I haven’t texted him yet.

Every time I tried, I’d just delete it, too nervous to say the wrong thing, too thrilled to ruin this spell. Because what if it wasn’t real? What if he forgot me already? What if I only imagined the way he smiled when he typed in his number?

I clutched my phone tighter in my pocket.

Meanwhile, across the city, Jungkook hadn’t stopped thinking about you. 

He hadn’t smoked all morning, hadn’t even touched the bottle of soju his roommate left open on the counter. He didn’t know what the hell was happening to him, but something in his chest felt lighter. And heavier. All at once. 

He tried to distract himself with dumb things. Scrolling through his feed, lifting weights, cleaning his place, but his mind kept circling back to you. Your soft laugh. The way your voice caught at the start of every sentence, like you weren’t sure if you were allowed to speak. The way you looked at him like you knew him, even when you shouldn’t have.

He finally grabbed his phone and stared at your name.

Y/N.

He almost didn’t send it. But then,

Jungkook: you like coffee or was that a one-time thing?

He hit send before he could overthink it, then threw the phone across the couch like it was on fire.

Your phone buzzed while you were inside a convenience store picking up ramen and instant rice. I froze. Then read it. Then reread it three more times.

My lips curled up before I even realized I was smiling.

Y/N: i like coffee. just not assholes who sit in corners of cafes ☺️.

I sent it before I could overthink it, then grabbed a snack that I didn’t even want just to keep my hands busy.

Back on the other side of the city, Jungkook read your reply and barked out a laugh. He liked that you had bite. He liked that you remembered. And fuck, he liked that you even replied.

Jungkook: let me try again? same café? 2pm?

Your fingers hovered over the keys. Then:

Y/N: you better be nice this time

Jungkook: no promises 😉

═══════

Before 2pm, I was already there. I sat at the corner booth, the same one he had occupied yesterday, my nerves buzzing under my skin like tv static. I wore something simple (nothing crazy like the girls in the dreams wore) but I felt more real, more alive, than I ever had before.

Jungkook walked in five minutes late. On purpose.

He spotted you instantly. And when your eyes met, that same undeniable electric current passed between you again. 

He walked over, running a hand through his already tousled hair, doing his best to play it cool.

“You’re in my spot,” he said.

You raised an eyebrow. “I thought we weren’t doing attitude today.”

“Right,” he smirked, sliding into the seat across from you. “Hi, again.”

“Hi,” you replied, softer this time.

You ordered coffees and chatted about safe topics - your new job, the weirdness of grocery stores here, the best street food in Seoul. He asked questions, teasing ones, and you answered with playful half-lies and awkward truths.

I never brought up the dreams. I kept them a secret. Like if I said them aloud, he would disappear.

But I didn’t have to.

It was in every glance. Every pause between sentences. In the way we already moved around each other like we’ve done this before.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing just a little. “So, Seoul… is it really your dream?”

“Since I was eight,” I nodded. “I used to beg my mom to let me study Korean. She thought I was insane.”

“Smart mom,” he teased.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “You asked for this conversation.”

“I did,” he said, his tone softer now. “And I’m glad I did.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable. Curious. Like the pause before a kiss.

Eventually, Jungkook leaned forward, voice lower. “So… can I get your number again?”

“You already have it.” I said while tilting my head.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “But I needed a reason to ask for a proper date.”

I flushed and glanced down, biting my bottom lip.

“Okay,” softly. “Ask.”

“Would you like to maybe… hang out again sometime that doesn’t involve caffeine and attitude?”

I laughed. “Sure. But I’m picking the spot next time.”

He held out his pinky. “Deal.”

I locked mine with his.

This wasn’t the beginning of something.

It was the continuation of something our hearts had already started, long before we ever met.

In another life. In another dream.

And finally, finally, in reality.

═══════

Later that night, I stood by my apartment window, staring out at the distant city lights.

Fingers brushing over my phone, hesitating above Jungkook’s name in my messages. I didn’t have a reason to text him. Not yet. But I kept replaying every second of the afternoon, the way he looked at me, the way he smiled like he was holding back laughter and fear at the same time. It was disarming.

And confusing.

He was both familiar and foreign. Pieces of him still echoed the version I’d grown up with in my dreams - like his bunny smile, the way he tilted his head when listening, or the gentleness behind his sarcasm - but the real-life version was rawer. Edgier. There was pain in his eyes he didn’t talk about, and I didn’t dare ask

I wanted to. God, I really fucking wanted to. But this wasn’t a dream. I didn’t know the rules here.

Across town, Jungkook sat on his bed with a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers. The smoke curled toward the ceiling, joining the faint scent of old cologne and fabric softener. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you walked away from him earlier.

He was hooked.

He hated how fast it happened. How badly he already wanted to see you again. Not for lust. Not even out of curiosity.

He just missed you.

And that didn’t make sense.

You weren’t supposed to be real. You weren’t supposed to walk into his favorite café, all wide eyes and nervous smiles, looking like the answer to a question he hadn’t asked aloud.

He took another drag and exhaled slowly. His room was silent except for the hum of traffic from outside. He hadn’t told anyone about the dreams in awhile. But now you were here and that reality was breaking down every wall he’d spent years building. 

He grabbed his phone and typed something. Deleted it. Typed again.

Jungkook: you got a favorite place in the city yet?

He hit send and laid back, staring at the ceiling. 

Your reply came less than a minute later.

Y/N: my rooftop? does that count?

Jungkook: it counts. as long as i get to see it one day.

You hesitate.. Then type:

Y/N: you just might .

The words lingered between you, a silent promise neither was ready to define.

═══════

The next few days passed in a blur of texts and nervous anticipation. You didn’t meet in person again but talked constantly. Stupid jokes. Music links. Flirty texts that made you blush into your pillow and made him smirk like a schoolboy with a crush. 

It was easy.

Too easy.

And that scared you

One night, as rain drummed softly against your windows, you curled up in bed and let your mind wander back to the old dreams. The ones set in vivid tones. The ones where Jungkook wore vintage jackets and danced with you at candlelit dinners. Where he kissed you on sidewalks under flickering neon signs and would whisper secrets like you had all the time in the world 

He had been softer in those dreams. Safer. But maybe that was because dream-Jungkook didn’t have real scars.

This Jungkook, the one who smoked too much and apologized too little, wasn’t perfect.

But he was real. 

And you’re starting to think that maybe… just maybe… that was better.

Meanwhile, Jungkook sat on the edge of his kitchen counter, finishing his third beer and flicking ash into a cracked ceramic dish. The apartment was too quiet. Too heavy with thought. And his phone buzzed again.

Y/N: do you ever feel like we’ve known each other longer than we have?

His heart kicked hard in his chest. 

He stared at the message.

Typed:

Jungkook: all the time.

Deleted it.

Typed:

Jungkook: maybe we have.

He didn’t send that one either.

Instead, he turned off the screen and let the silence settle in around him.

Some things didn’t need to be said.

Not yet

Because this wasn’t a dream anymore.

This was the start of something terrifyingly, beautifully real.

═══════

The arcade buzzed with neon lights and synthy pop music, the air thick with the scent of popcorn, soda syrup, and adolescent adrenaline. Machines chirped and beeped, some blasting digitized explosions while others played victory jingles. Street Fighter II blared from the corner as kids huddled around it, cheering for pixelated punches.

Jungkook didn’t care about any of that. His attention was locked on one thing.

Y/N.

She stood in front of a claw machine, brow furrowed as she tried to snag a sad-looking plush dolphin trapped in the corner. Her tongue peeked out the side of her mouth in concentration, and Jungkook (leaning against the side of the machine) watched with an unrelenting smirk.

“You’re way too cute to be this competitive,” he teased, nudging her hip with his.

She elbowed him gently, not looking away. “If I get this thing, it’s going on our wedding cake.”

Jungkook leaned in close, his lips brushing just beneath her ear. “Then I hope it never comes out. I like watching you like this.”

She flushed instantly, eyes darting around to make sure no one was looking. “Jungkook,” she hissed, swatting at his arm. “We’re in public!”

“I know,” he said shamelessly, resting both hands on her waist and pulling her back against his chest. “You’re hot, we’re engaged, and I’m obsessed with you. Sue me.”

She wriggled free, barely holding in a laugh as she turned to face him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it.” He grinned and took her hand, spinning her once like they were dancing on a hardwood floor instead of sticky arcade carpet.

Her laughter was soft, nervous, delighted.

He caught her against his chest again, this time kissing her cheek so exaggeratedly loud she squealed and pushed him away. “Stop!”

“No.”

“People are watching,” she whispered.

“I don’t care. Let them stare,” he said, eyes locked on hers, voice dropping low. “You’re mine.”

Her heart stuttered. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’re marrying me.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, I’ll remind you,” he murmured, nuzzling into her neck. “Every hour. Every minute. Every second. Especially in public.”

She shoved him away again, cheeks blazing. “Play something. Go shoot aliens or save a princess or whatever.”

Jungkook gave her one last dramatic kiss on the hand before winking. “I’ll win you a prize.”

“You already did.”

He stopped, grinning like a fool. “God, I love you.”

And before she could hide her smile, he was off, coins in hand, yelling, “THIS ONE’S FOR YOU, BABE!” while running toward Time Crisis like a man on a mission.

She stood there, arms crossed, heart racing.

Totally his.

═══════

By the end of the week, you had memorized Jungkook’s texting habits.

He was dry in the morning, playful by late afternoon, and strangely sentimental around midnight. He sent voice notes when he was too lazy to type, used emojis constantly, and had a habit of ghosting for hours only to come back with something stupidly charming like “miss me?”

You had never smiled at your phone so much in your life.

And yet, you were terrified.

Because the closer you felt to him, the more you feared you were leaning into something one-sided. What if he was just like this with everyone? What if I was just a novelty, a foreign girl with big eyes and a soft laugh, here for a brief chapter in his much bigger story?

But still, I answered. Every time.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was battling his own storm of questions. He’d never wanted to know someone this fast. It made him restless, made him drink more, smoke more, then feel guilty for doing both. You had a calm to you that made his walls feel too high, too sharp. He wanted to tell you everything. And yet, he couldn’t tell you anything.

Not the truth. Not about the dreams. Not about why it scared him so much to see you in real life.

Still, he wanted to see you again. In person. He wanted to know what your voice sounded like when you weren't typing behind a screen.

Jungkook: friday. movie? there’s a rooftop one in hongdae. i’ll bring snacks.

Her reply came within seconds.

Y/N: only if you don’t bring attitude .

Jungkook: debatable.

═══════

Friday came too quickly.

You had spent way too long picking an outfit. You kept it simple - black jeans, white tee, oversized denim jacket - but somehow it felt like a costume. Like you were dressing for the version of him that lived in your dreams.

When you arrived, he was already there, leaning against the wall like he’d walked out of a magazine cover, a bag of snacks dangling from his hand and a smug grin on his face.

“You’re late,” he said.

“I’m three minutes early.”

“Exactly. I’ve been waiting.”

You rolled your eyes and followed him up the steps to the rooftop, where a projector flickered against a white brick wall and the city hummed beneath you.

You found seats in the back, away from the crowd. Close. Too close.

Jungkook offered you a pack of sour gummies. 

“Peace offering.”

You took it, smirking. “You’re forgiven. For now.”

You didn’t watch the movie. Well, not really.

You whispered throughout, your voices low and tangled in laughter.

He told you about his worst date ever: some girl who brought her ex to the restaurant by mistake. And you told him about your first week in Korea, how you accidentally thanked a store clerk by calling him your brother.

“I panicked!” I said, laughing into my hands.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

I looked at him, smile fading slightly.

“You really think so?”

He leaned in closer, his voice low and sure. “I think you’re beautiful. Even when you call people your brother.”

I blushed, looking away.

And in that moment, he realized something dangerous- he was falling for you.

Hard.

He tried to pull back. Tried to play it cool. But your hand was resting just close enough that his fingers ached to touch yours. So he did. Lightly. Testing.

You didn’t move.

Your hands stayed there, quietly touching, while the movie played on.

And for a few stolen moments, everything felt perfect.

But deep down, Jungkook’s chest still carried a quiet warning. A whisper from the dreams that always ended in goodbye.

Still, he held your hand.

Still, you let him.

Neither of you said what you were thinking.

But both of us felt it.

This wasn’t just attraction.

It wasn’t even just fate.

It was something older. 

Something deeper.

And it terrified them both.

═══════

The wind outside whispered through the trees, stirring the last golden leaves loose.

Fall had settled over the city like a thick, cozy blanket. Inside their apartment, the glow of candles flickered against the walls, casting shadows that danced with the soft, rhythmic hum of the heater. The TV played faintly- an episode of The Wonder Years flashing across the screen like a memory too old to belong to them but too familiar not to feel.

Y/N was nestled between Jungkook’s thighs on the couch, her back pressed to his chest, the two of them cocooned under a heavy throw blanket. Her socks were mismatched. His hands were tucked beneath the blanket, warm and resting low on her stomach, his thumbs brushing soft circles across the cotton of her shirt.

“You know,” he murmured near her ear, “for someone who claims to hate cheesy shows, you’ve been totally quiet for twenty minutes.”

“I’m studying,” she said, eyes still on the screen.

“Studying what? Kevin Arnold’s tragic boyhood?”

“I’m studying your taste in TV.”

Jungkook laughed, his voice deep and warm, the sound sending a ripple of heat across her skin. “Dangerous subject,” he murmured. “You might fall for me all over again.”

She tilted her head slightly to glance at him. “You think I ever stopped?”

His gaze dropped to her lips. “Not for a second.”

Something shifted in the air then- not awkward, but charged. The space between them was nothing, and somehow that made it everything. Her body was molded to his, hips resting snug against his, the kind of closeness where even breathing felt deliberate.

“Careful,” she said lightly. “You’re being smooth.”

“I’m always smooth.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re chaotic at best.”

“And yet…” He leaned in a little, brushing his nose along the shell of her ear. “You keep coming back.

She didn’t answer, but her breath caught just enough for him to notice. His smirk widened.

Outside, wind rattled the windows slightly. A few branches tapped against the pane, but the real storm was happening on the couch- quiet, warm, and buzzing with tension.

“You cold?” he asked.

“A little.”

He slid one hand under her shirt, fingertips grazing her bare stomach. “Better?”

She stiffened slightly, but not because she wanted him to stop. “Your hands are freezing.”

“Liar,” he murmured, lips ghosting against the curve of her neck now. “You just got goosebumps.”

She tried to wriggle away, but it was no use as he tightened his arms around her playfully, pulling her back flush against him.

“You’re terrible,” she whispered.

“You love it.”

“I tolerate it.”

“Babe,” he drawled, the word like a slow grin. “You’re literally in my lap. With my hand under your shirt.”

“That was your doing,” she argued, barely breathing.

He chuckled again, slow and low. “You didn’t exactly protest.”

His fingers were still light on her skin, not moving much, just enough to be noticed. Every now and then he’d sweep a thumb just above her navel, barely there, like he wasn’t even thinking about it. But they both knew he was.

The episode on TV faded into the next one. Neither of them noticed.

She shifted slightly, trying to regain some sense of composure but her movement just ground her hips deeper against his, and then she noticed. Jungkook stilled behind her, then exhaled through his nose sharply.

“You’re playing with fire,” he said.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” she murmured, cheeks flushed.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice suddenly rougher, quieter. “You feel what you’re doing to me?”

Y/N didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The weight of his words landed heavy and electric, her breath hitching as his hands finally did move, traveling slowly up her ribs to just beneath her bra, then back down again, teasing but never crossing the line, but standing right at the edge of it.

“You gonna keep teasing me like this?” he asked.

She turned her head just enough to meet his eyes. His gaze was dark, heated, but his lips still wore that maddening smirk.

“I think you’re the one doing the teasing.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jungkook said, shifting just slightly behind her. “If I were teasing, you'd be trembling.”

She was, a little.

He pressed a kiss to her neck - soft, deliberate, lips lingering.

She gasped.

And then he stopped.

Pulled back.

Just a breath’s distance.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice now light again, smug. “It’s still fall. Gotta save something for winter.”

She whined in frustration, smacking his thigh without heat. “I hate you.”

“You adore me,” he corrected, wrapping his arms tighter around her. “Also, you make this adorable little sound when I kiss your neck. It’s like a hiccup and a sigh.”

“Jungkook.”

“Say it again.”

“Say what?”

“My name. You always sound like you’re mad when you say it, but it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Jungkook.”

He groaned softly. “There it is.”

“You’re actually insane.”

“You’re literally blushing through a flannel right now.”

She grabbed a pillow and shoved it backward towards his face, but he dodged, laughing.

“C’mere,” he said, turning her slightly so she was straddling his lap, the blanket slipping down pooling at their sides. His hands slid to her hips, warm and confident. “Let me look at you.”

Her heart pounded as she steadied herself against his chest. His eyes were soft now but still dark, still heavy with the energy hanging thick between them.

“You look like a dream,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Like something I’d remember if I woke up too soon.”

“You can’t say things like that,” she whispered, barely holding eye contact.

“But I mean them.”

He let his thumb graze her jaw. “And you like it.”

“I hate how much I like it,” she admitted.

“Good,” he murmured. “I want you to hate it. I want it to wreck you.”

The room was too quiet. Too warm. Too close.

She leaned in a little. Just enough to feel his breath against her lips.

His voice was barely audible now. “You gonna kiss me?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” he teased, raising a brow. “You’re sitting in my lap.”

“You said we’re saving things for winter,” she whispered, breathless.

Jungkook chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re cruel.”

She smiled. “You love it.”

“God, I really do.”

The moment hovered, their lips close enough to share a secret, but neither one moving quite yet like if they kissed, it’d break something open they wouldn’t be able to close again.

“I want you,” he said softly, finally. “Not just tonight. Every damn day.”

She pressed her forehead to his, eyes fluttering shut.

“You have me,” she whispered. “You always do.”

You didn’t need to kiss after that.

Because the tension, the pull between you, was the kiss.

═══════

♡ next

MASTERPOST

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

[backgroundnoisewithaview]

How do I say this with words...?

Watching a show where they predominantly use surnames and then suddenly start calling each other by their first name is like reading some sort of repressive georgian to edwardian classic tale except with missing scenes, and CAN YOU IMAGINE the conversation? The courage it takes to switch when there hasn't been a precedent? But in MODERN DAY?

AM I OVER THINKING THIS? Yes. Absolutely yes.

Do I want fic of this anyway? Yes.

Does this even make sense? Probably not.

[flux1563]

Best choice of my life ft tzuyu

Something new part 2

Words: 25k

The digital clock on the nightstand flickered to life, casting a blueish hue over the room. 6:00 AM. The time had come for him to rise and prepare for the day ahead. With a gentle sigh, her husband's eyes fluttered open, his gaze immediately finding hers in the dim light. He offered a sleepy smile, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "Morning, love," he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. Tzuyu sat up in bed, the sheets slipping down to reveal the swells of her breasts. She returned his smile, trying to ignore the heaviness in her chest. "Already time to go to work?" Tzuyu ask. Her husband nodded and stretched, his muscular body flexing with the motion. "Yeah," he yawned. "Big meeting today. I'll be home as soon as I can." He leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

As he padded towards the bathroom, Tzuyu couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anxiety build within her. She quickly grabbed her phone from the nightstand, her thumbs flying over the screen. Her heart raced as she typed out the message to y/n: "I want to feel you again this time. Can I come to your house?" She hit send before she could talk herself out of it, her stomach flipping with anticipation. She watched her husband's back as he disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

Y/n's response is swift: "Just come to my house, Tzuyu." The simplicity of his message sends a thrill down her spine. She knows she shouldn't, that it's wrong, but the memory of his touch is too potent to ignore. Her mind wanders to what she should wear, something that would drive him wild with desire. She opens her closet, her eyes scanning the rows of clothes. Her fingers glide over the fabric of her usual attire, but she knows none of it will suffice for what she has in mind. Instead, she reaches for the drawer at the bottom, where she keeps her secret collection of lingerie. Her heart races as she pulls out a sheer, black set. The lace is intricate, leaving nothing to the imagination. The thong is so thin it might as well not be there, and the bra is designed to expose her nipples, the fabric barely covering the sensitive peaks. Tzuyu's body flushes with excitement and nerves as she dresses in the seductive ensemble. She looks at herself in the mirror, her reflection looking like a stranger, a woman bold and hungry for desire. With one last, deep breath, she grabs an oversized hoodie from her husband's side of the closet to cover herself. The softness of the fabric feels like a comforting embrace, a stark contrast to the naughty secrets it conceals. The short walk to y/n's house feels like an eternity. Each step is a silent confession to the betrayal she's about to commit. Yet, the anticipation is intoxicating, making her heart race and her breath come in shallow pants. The early morning light casts long shadows across the lawn, and the dew on the grass feels like a kiss from the cool, indifferent world outside her tumultuous thoughts. She tries to calm herself, focusing on the familiar squeak of the gate and the comforting scent of her garden as she passes by.

When she reaches y/n's door, she takes one final, deep breath before raising her hand to knock. It's a soft sound, barely louder than the whisper of the wind through the leaves. Yet, almost immediately, she hears the sound of the lock turning, and the door swings open. He's waiting for her, dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts that hang low on his hips, showcasing the trail of hair that leads down to the promise of his cock. His eyes widen with lust when he sees her, taking in the barely concealed allure of her attire. Before she can even say a word, he's on her, pulling her into his arms and claiming her lips in a kiss that's both fierce and passionate. His hands roam her body, tracing the curves of her waist and the swell of her hips. Tzuyu melts into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. It's as if her body has been waiting for this, craving the feel of his touch like a plant craves the sun. With a sudden jerk, y/n pulls her hoodie open, exposing her lingerie-clad breasts to the cool morning air. The contrast between the soft fabric and the roughness of his calloused hands sends a jolt of electricity through her, making her nipples peak into tight buds. He breaks the kiss to look down at her, his eyes dark with desire. "You came to me," he murmurs, his voice low and thick with need.

"Yeah," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I couldn't wait for you to take me again." His eyes flash with a primal hunger that makes her knees weak. Without warning, he rips her lingerie from her body, the fabric tearing like paper beneath his powerful grip. Tzuyu gasps, feeling the cold air against her bare pussy. He smirks at her, the sound echoing through the house like a declaration of his dominance. "If that's what you want, then that's what you'll get," he says, his voice a low growl. He grabs her by the waist and lifts her onto the kitchen counter, her legs wrapping around his hips. She gasps as she feels the tip of his cock, thick and insistent, press against her opening. Without further ado, he slams into her, his length filling her in one swift motion. The suddenness of it makes her eyes roll back in her head, a high-pitched moan escaping her lips. He doesn't stop, pounding into her with a ferocity that leaves her breathless. 

His grip on her hips is like iron, holding her in place as he claims her body without mercy. "Yeah, fuck my pussy like that," Tzuyu pants, her nails digging into his shoulders. The wetness she mentioned was indeed still present, a testament to the longing she'd felt for him since their last encounter. She could feel her juices coating his cock, making each stroke smoother, deeper. "You like that, don't you?" He grunts, his eyes dark with lust. "You want me to make you squirt again?" Tzuyu nods frantically, her pussy clenching around him in anticipation. She's never felt anything like this before, the feeling of his cock hitting all the right spots, the way her body responds so eagerly to his touch. She feels a familiar pressure building within her, and she knows she's close. "Ajh, yes, y/n, I'm going to squirt," she moans, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation. He quickens his pace, driving into her harder and faster, his grip on her hips tightening. The kitchen counter digs into her back, but she doesn't care. All that matters is the feeling of his cock inside her, the promise of the release that's just within reach.

Her pussy clenches around him, and suddenly, it's there. The intense pressure builds up, and then releases in a powerful spurt of liquid that soaks his cock and the counter beneath her. She throws her head back, her eyes squeezed shut as she rides the waves of pleasure that crash through her body. She feels it from her toes to her fingertips, a rush of euphoria that makes her tremble and shake uncontrollably. He watches her with a mix of amazement and hunger, his eyes never leaving her face as he continues to pound into her. "How long can I fuck you this day, Tzuyu?" he asks again, his voice strained with effort and desire. "Until 6 PM," she gasps, her voice barely a whisper. The thought sends a new wave of heat through her body, the anticipation of hours of passionate fucking making her pussy clench even tighter around his thick cock. Y/n smiles wickedly, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He glances at the clock on the kitchen wall, the hands pointing to the 7 AM position. "Eleven hours," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Eleven hours of pure pleasure, just for us." With surprising strength, he flips Tzuyu over onto her stomach, her legs dangling off the edge of the counter. He grips her hips, pulling her back so that her ass is in the air, her pussy wet and begging for his cock. The sudden change in position makes her gasp, her breasts pressing against the cool countertop. He doesn't miss a beat, lining himself up with her soaking wet entrance and sliding back in, filling her completely. Her moans echo through the kitchen as he starts to fuck her in standing doggy style, his powerful thrusts sending her hips slamming into the counter. She can feel the bruises forming, but the pain only adds to the intense pleasure that is consuming her. Each time he hits her g-spot, she squirts a little more, the wetness making his movements even smoother, even more delicious.

"Already squirting countless times, Tzuyu?" he says with a smug chuckle, his grip tightening on her hips. "It's only been a few minutes. You're going to be a mess by the time I'm through with you.". Tzuyu can't help the moan that escapes her as she nods, her voice strained with pleasure. "It's your fault," she whispers, her words barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin. "Your cock is so good inside my pussy.". Y/n's smug grin widens, and he starts to fuck her harder, his movements more deliberate as he watches the pleasure wash over her face. She's lost in the sensation, her body responding to his every touch with a desperation that she's never felt before. "Beg for it," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "Beg for me to fill you up again." Tzuyu's eyes roll back in her head, and she can't help but whimper. "Please, y/n," she says, her voice needy. "Please, I need your baby in me." It's a heady feeling, saying the words out loud, and she feels a new wave of arousal crash over her. She's never talked like this before, but with him, it feels so right. He grabs her hand, interlocking their fingers behind her back, pulling her closer to him. His other hand snakes up to her hair, gripping it firmly as he fucks her even harder. The tug on her scalp sends a bolt of pleasure through her, making her toes curl. She moans loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet of the kitchen. "You're such a good slut," he whispers, his breath hot against her ear. "Ask for it."

Her eyes widen, the pain mixing with pleasure as she begs, "Please, y/n, fuck me harder. Make me squirt again." He obliges, his hand moving faster, his cock pounding into her with a ferocity that borders on brutal. She feels the pressure building inside her, her pussy clenching around him like a vice. And then it hits her, the most intense orgasm she's ever felt, her body shaking as she squirts all over the kitchen counter, soaking his hand and the floor beneath them. He groans with satisfaction, feeling her walls tighten around his cock, the sensation of her release pushing him closer to the edge. Without warning, he pulls out and spins her around, slamming her back against the fridge. His grip on her hand tightens as he pins it behind her back, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies. His other hand tangles in her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck, which he kisses hungrily, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. He enters her again, his movements now erratic, driven by his own need to release.

Tzuyu's eyes roll back as he fucks her relentlessly, his cock hitting that spot deep within her that sends waves of pleasure crashing through her body. She feels his desperation, his need to claim her fully, and it only serves to increase her own desire. Her body responds, her pussy clenching around him, begging for more. With a final, primal roar, y/n releases himself inside her, filling her to the brim with his hot, sticky cum. Tzuyu gasps, her body spasming with the force of her own orgasm, her walls milking him for every last drop. She feels him swell and pulse, his seed painting the walls of her pussy with his brand of ownership. For a moment, they stand there, chests heaving, bodies entwined. But the reality of their situation crashes down on her like a tidal wave. She's just cheated on her husband with her neighbor, a man she's known for years but never felt this intense connection with before. Her legs threaten to give out, and she's certain she would have fallen if not for his iron grip holding her upright.

"Is so good, y/n fuck," Tzuyu whispers with trembling voice, her eyes fluttering shut as the aftershocks of pleasure wash over her. Her words are a mix of English and her native language, a testament to the overwhelming nature of their encounter. She leans into him, her naked body pressing against his, desperate for his warmth and the illusion of safety that he provides. "You're amazing," he murmurs back, kissing the side of her neck gently. His voice is filled with genuine admiration and lust. He releases her hand, letting it fall to her side as he wraps his arms around her waist, holding her tightly as he slowly pulls out of her. The feeling of emptiness is stark, and she can't help but whine softly. He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down her spine.

They both take a moment to catch their breath, the only sound in the kitchen the ticking of the clock on the wall, a constant reminder of the time slipping away. Tzuyu opens her eyes to find y/n looking at her with a smug smile, his chest still heaving from exertion. "Are you okay?" he asks, his eyes searching hers for any signs of distress. She nods, still trying to process the intensity of what just happened. "Yes," she manages to murmur, though her voice is hoarse from the screams of passion. He releases her from his embrace, and she wobbles slightly, her legs still unsteady from the powerful climaxes. He chuckles again, and this time it's a gentle sound that doesn't make her want to run away. Guiding her to the living room, he pulls a soft blanket from the couch and wraps it around her shoulders, leading her to the plush cushions. They sit down, their bodies still touching, the heat between them palpable. "I don't usually do this," Tzuyu says, her voice still shaking. "But I couldn't resist you." Y/n nods, stroking her cheek gently. "I know. It's like we were made for each other." His words hang in the air, filled with an unspoken understanding that this wasn't just a one-time thing. They share a knowing look, their eyes locked in a silent promise of more to come.

"Are u want to take a rest first?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down her spine. She nods again, her body aching from the intense passion they've just shared. They move to the couch, the plush cushions a welcome respite from the hard kitchen counter. He settles her into his arms, the warmth of his bare skin a stark contrast to the chill in the air from the open refrigerator door. Tzuyu takes a moment to appreciate the sight of her sprawled across his couch, the blanket barely covering her splayed legs and the wetness between them. He traces a finger along her collarbone, watching as goosebumps rise along her skin. "No, just fuck me like a slut I am," she whispers, her voice needy and raw. He leans in, his breath hot on her ear as he says, "Are u sure? U can't take back what u say tzuyu." His words hang in the air, a challenge and a warning. She nods, eyes blazing with desire. "Yes," she murmurs, her voice thick with lust. "I want it all. Every part of you, every dirty word, every rough touch." He stands up, towering over her, his cock still hard and glistening with their combined juices. "Which room do you want me to fuck you, Tzuyu?" he asks, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. She swallows hard, her heart racing. She's never been so brazen, but with his, she feels like she can be anyone, do anything.

"Maybe the work room first," she says, her voice low and sultry. "Fuck me above your desk." The thought sends a thrill through her body, a delicious mix of excitement and naughtiness that only fuels her desire. She watches as his eyes darken with lust, the challenge accepted. With surprising gentleness, he picks Tzuyu up, his arms cradling her against his chest as he carries her through the house. Her legs wrap around his waist, the blanket slipping away to expose her nakedness to the cool air. She nuzzles into his neck, her lips leaving a trail of kisses along his collarbone as he navigates the hallway. The anticipation builds with every step, her pussy clenching with need. He kicks the door to his work room open, the sound echoing through the house. The room is cluttered with paperwork and the faint scent of ink and leather, a stark contrast to the garden's serenity. He lowers her onto the sturdy desk, the wood cool against her skin. His eyes are dark with desire as he takes in the sight of her laid out before him, her legs open and welcoming.

"Fuckk, so wet and tight," he groans, the words escaping him like a prayer. Tzuyu feels a thrill at his crude language, the raw desire in his voice making her even wetter. He grabs her hips and aligns his cock with her entrance, his hands trembling with restraint. The moment he enters her, she feels the familiar rush of liquid heat, her pussy squirting around him like a fountain. It's a sensation she's never felt with anyone else, a testament to the intensity of their connection. His eyes widen with surprise before a smug smile plays on his lips. "You're just too much," he says, his voice thick with lust. He starts to thrust, his movements powerful and commanding. She gasps with each stroke, her body bouncing on the desk with the force of his passion. The room is filled with the sound of their slapping flesh, the occasional squeak of the chair, and their ragged breaths. She looks down to see his cock disappearing into her over and over again, her juices coating his shaft with every plunge.

"You're not ruining anything," he growls, his eyes dark with desire. "You're just making it more interesting." He pulls out almost completely, only to slam back into her, making her cry out. His grip on her hips tightens, his nails digging into her skin as he finds a rhythm that makes her pussy pulse with each thrust. "Fuck, so fucking big," Tzuyu screams, her voice bouncing off the walls of the room. She can feel him filling her completely, his cock reaching places inside her that she didn't know existed. Each time he pulls out, she feels the emptiness keenly, only for it to be replaced with a wave of pleasure as he slams back in. "Yes, cum for me," she pants, her eyes fluttering shut as she feels the beginnings of another orgasm building deep within her. She can sense that he's close, his strokes becoming more erratic, his breathing more ragged. His hand snakes up to her throat, gripping it gently, and she moans, the sensation pushing her closer to the edge.

With a roar, y/n pulls out and sprays his cum across her face, painting it in thick ropes that cling to her skin. She opens her eyes, watching in fascination as he marks her, claiming her once again. The sight of his release on her face sends her over the edge, her pussy convulsing around emptiness as she squirts uncontrollably.

The room is a chaotic symphony of moans and wet sounds, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. His desk, once a bastion of order and productivity, is now a canvas of their desire, papers and files scattered haphazardly, drenched in the evidence of their passion. Her squirt covers the leather surface, pooling in the indentations of his chair, creating a mess that mirrors the tumult in her heart. Without a word, y/n picks her up, her legs still trembling from the intensity of their last encounter. His eyes burn with a primal hunger that makes her insides quiver.

He carries her to his bedroom, his strong arms a stark contrast to the softness of her curves. The room is bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, the shadows playing across the walls like a silent film of their carnality. The bed is unmade, the sheets tangled from his last encounter with his right hand. He lays her down gently, his cock still rock-hard and glistening with their combined juices. She looks up at him, her eyes glazed over with lust, and straddles him. Her pussy is a slick, swollen mess, begging for more of his thick, delicious cock. He watches as she slides down onto him, her walls stretching to accommodate his girth.

"Ahh...fuck," she gasps, her nails digging into his shoulders as she feels him fill her completely. She starts to ride him, her movements erratic at first, a mix of pleasure and pain. His hands roam her body, cupping her breasts, squeezing her ass, his fingers leaving trails of fire in their wake. His cock hits all the right spots, and she feels herself spiraling towards another orgasm. "Your dick is everywhere," she cries out, her voice hoarse from the screams of ecstasy that have already left her throat. She's lost in a sea of sensation, her body moving on instinct as he takes her to new heights. Her pussy clenches around him, and she feels the warmth of her squirt, the liquid proof of her desire. He takes control, thrusting into her with a ferocity that steals her breath away. His strokes are deep and demanding, each one pushing her closer to the edge. "Cum for me," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "I want to feel your sweet cunt milk my cock." Her eyes roll back in her head as she feels it building again, the pressure in her core threatening to explode. Her pussy clamps down on him, and she squirts uncontrollably, her juices coating his shaft and their skin. He doesn't let up, his rhythm never faltering as he continues to pound into her.

Finally, with a roar, he pulls out and covers her back in his cum, his seed spraying across her skin like a declaration of war. But it's not war she feels, it's a strange sense of belonging, of being claimed by this man who brings her such exquisite pain and pleasure. And just as she thinks she can't take anymore, he turns her onto her back and slams into her again, her legs splayed wide. His cock is a beast, demanding and relentless, and she's helpless to resist. Her pussy clenches around him, and she feels another orgasm building, her body a live wire ready to snap. He fucks her with a brutal efficiency, his eyes never leaving hers. She can see the darkness in them, the desire that fuels his every thrust. And she knows that she's just as lost in this as he is, her own needs driving her to match his ferocity. "Cum inside me," she begs, her voice a desperate whisper. "I want to feel you fill me up." He grunts, his strokes becoming more erratic as he gets closer to his own release. And when it hits him, it's like a dam bursting. He fills her with his cum, each spurt a hot, thick reminder of his power over her. Her pussy clenches around him, eagerly drinking him in.

They lay there, panting and spent, their bodies entwined. The world outside their bubble of passion doesn't exist, and she's never felt more alive. She knows that this is wrong, that she's playing with fire. But she can't help craving the burn.

"Again," she whispers, and he's only too happy to oblige. He rolls her onto her stomach, her breasts pressed into the damp pillow. His hand traces the curve of her ass before he slides into her from behind. Her pussy is still sore, but the pain only heightens the pleasure, making her squirt uncontrollably with every thrust. "Ahh, yes," she moans, her voice muffled by the pillow. "Your dick is so deep. " She can feel him stretching her, filling her completely. It's a sensation that's both terrifying and exhilarating, like riding a rollercoaster with no safety bars.

He fucks her with a fierce determination, his strokes deep and punishing. Each time he hits her g-spot, she feels her body shudder, her juices soaking the bed beneath them. The sound of their skin slapping together fills the room, a testament to their carnality. His grip on her hips tightens, and she knows he's close, his thrusts growing more erratic.

He pulls out, and before she can even register the loss, he's flipped her onto her back. He's still hard, his cock glistening with their combined arousal. He looms over her, his eyes dark with lust. "Look at me when I cum," he commands, and she can't help but obey.

He starts fucking her again, his strokes slower this time, more deliberate. She can feel him savoring every moment, every inch of her. His cock slides in and out of her, the friction setting her nerves alight. And then he explodes, his seed spraying her body like a fine mist. She can feel it on her face, her neck, her chest, a warm, sticky mess that only makes her want more.

They lay there for a moment, their breathing the only sound in the room. Then he leans in, kissing her softly, his cock still semi-hard between her legs. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice hoarse. Tzuyu opens her eyes, meeting his gaze. She can't find the words to respond, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She's torn between the guilt that weighs on her and the intense desire that still thrums through her body. "For what?" she finally asks, her voice a mere whisper. "For letting me be the one to give you what you truly crave," he says, his eyes searching hers. "For letting me be the one to make you squirt like a fountain."

The truth of his words hits her like a sledgehammer, and she feels a mix of shame and excitement. She's never felt so used, so owned. And she can't help but want more.

They move to the living room, the plush carpet beneath them a stark contrast to the harsh reality of their situation. He takes her from behind, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he pulls her back onto his cock. She's so wet that he slides in effortlessly, filling her up in one swift motion. The couch cushions sink under their weight as he starts to pound into her, each thrust sending her body rocking forward.

The TV flickers in the background, the mundane sitcom playing out its canned laughter as Tzuyu's own cries of pleasure echo through the room. Her pussy is a river, gushing around him with every push, and she knows that the sound of their fucking is only adding to the illicitness of the moment. She can feel her orgasm building again, and she tries to fight it, to draw it out as long as possible.

He's relentless, his hips moving like a piston as he fucks her with a ferocity that borders on the violent. She's lost in the sensation, her body moving with his, her mind a blur of need and desire. And when she does finally come, it's like a dam bursting, her squirt soaking the carpet beneath her.

Yet he doesn't stop. If anything, his movements grow more intense, his grip on her hips tightening as he speeds up. He's like an animal in heat, his need for release all-consuming. And she's his prey, willingly offering herself up to his every whim. The sound of their skin slapping together fills the air, punctuated by her cries of pleasure. She can feel him swelling inside her, his cock thickening as he nears his climax. And when he does finally come, it's with a roar that shakes the walls. He pulls out and sprays his cum all over her, painting her back and ass with his seed.

The warmth of his semen on her skin is the final straw, sending her over the edge once again. Her pussy clenches and spasms around his cock, her squirt mixing with his cum to create a sticky mess that she knows will be impossible to clean up. As they lay there, panting and covered in each other's juices, she can't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. This is wrong, she knows it, but it feels so right. And as she looks over her shoulder at the man who has just claimed her in the most primal way possible, she knows she's in too deep to turn back now.

He scoops her up, his cock still hard and covered in their combined arousal. She wraps her legs around his waist as he carries her to the balcony, the cool air kissing their sweat-slicked skin. The lights from the sun cast a soft glow over, and she can see the silhouettes of people going about their evening routines, oblivious to the depraved acts unfolding in her neighbor's house. Her heart races at the thought of being caught, but it's the thrill of the risk that fuels her arousal. "What if someone sees us?" she gasps, her voice a mix of fear and excitement.

He smirks, placing her on the edge of the balcony railing, her legs draped over his broad shoulders. "Just hope there's no one watching," he says, the challenge in his tone making her stomach flip. His cock, still slick with her cum, slides back into her pussy, and she gasps as he starts to thrust again. Each movement sends her a little higher, the railing digging into her back as she holds onto the railing for dear life. "AHHHHHH..." she screams, the sound echoing through the night air. She can feel the cool breeze on her face, the stars above seeming to pulse in time with her heartbeat. The world outside fades away until all that exists is the feeling of his cock inside her, the way he fills her completely and owns her body. She's lost in a sea of pleasure, her moans and cries the only sound in the universe. Tzuyu's nails dig into the wood of the railing, leaving deep grooves as she tries to hold on. Each thrust from he sends her closer to the edge, not just of the balcony, but of sanity itself. "FUCK Y/N," she moans, her voice hoarse and desperate. She's never felt so alive, so wanted, so utterly consumed by another person's desire. Her orgasms come in waves now, crashing over her like the tide, leaving her gasping for air.

He grunts in response, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he pumps into her with increasing ferocity. His cock hits her g-spot with each stroke, and she can't help but scream his name as she feels another squirt building inside her. "Cum for me, baby," he whispers in her ear, his voice a dark promise. "Show me how much you love it." Her eyes squeeze shut as she feels the pressure building, the world around her fading away until all that exists is the sensation of his cock inside her, the warmth of the sun on her bare skin, and the sound of their bodies slapping together. The orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, and she squirts again, the warm liquid spilling over the railing and down into the garden below. She gasps for air, her entire body trembling with the force of it. "Look at that," y/n says, his voice filled with dark amusement. "You're like a fountain of pleasure." He pulls out of her, his cock glistening with their combined juices. He strokes himself, watching as the last drops of her cum fall to the ground. "The world will know," he says with a wicked smile. "They'll all know how much you love my cock”.Tzuyu gasps, trying to catch her breath, her legs still shaking from the intensity of her climaxes. She watches him with a mix of fear and desire, knowing that she's lost control, that she's become the slut he's always wanted her to be. And yet, she can't find it in herself to be ashamed. Every time he fills her, every time he makes her squirt, it's like he's filling a void she never knew existed.

Her eyes widen as he takes her hand, guiding her to the bedroom, his grip firm yet gentle. He lays her down on the bed, and she can't help but whimper as he climbs over her, his cock still rock hard. "Please," she whispers, "please fill me up."

Y/n grins, his eyes gleaming with lust. He lines up his cock with her entrance and pushes in, filling her to the brim. She gasps, her eyes rolling back in her head as she feels him stretch her open once more. He starts to fuck her slowly at first, drawing out her moans, her pussy still quivering from her previous orgasms. He picks up the pace, and she feels herself building again, her body responding to his every touch. She begs him to go harder, faster, to fill her up until she can't take anymore. He obliges, pounding into her with a ferocity that makes the bed shake. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by her desperate cries. Her orgasms come in waves, one after the other, each one more intense than the last. She can feel him swelling inside her, his cock pulsing with the promise of release. "Cum inside me," she whispers, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I want to feel your seed." His eyes narrow, and he gives one final, powerful thrust. With a roar, he empties himself into her, filling her womb with his hot, thick cum. She clenches around him, her body milking every last drop as she squirts uncontrollably. Her pussy spasms, gripping him tightly, and she arches her back, lost in the sensation of his seed flooding her.

For a moment, they lay there, panting, their bodies slick with sweat and cum. He pulls out, and she feels the warmth of his release spilling out of her, down her thighs. It's a messy, delicious mess, a testament to their carnality. She can't help but smile, even as guilt starts to creep in. This isn't who she is, but she can't deny the thrill of it all.

"Tzuyu, the next of tomorrow, I will go to the Maldives for two weeks" he says, his voice breaking the silence like a sledgehammer through glass. Her eyes widen, and she sits up, pushing her hair out of her face. "What?" she asks, not quite understanding what he means.

"I want you to come with me," he says, his eyes searching hers for a hint of what she's feeling. "I know it's sudden, but I can't bear the thought of being apart from you for so long."

Tzuyu's heart skips a beat at his words. She had never felt this way before, not even with her husband. The idea of being with him for two weeks, just the two of them, is both thrilling and terrifying. "But what about your job?" she asks, already knowing the answer. "I can work remotely," he says, his eyes never leaving hers. "All I need is you."

Tzuyu's cheeks burn with a mix of excitement and fear. "But what will I say to my husband?" she whispers, her voice trembling. "Tell him you're going on a gardening retreat," y/n suggests, his tone casual despite the gravity of his words. "You can say you need some time to yourself to focus on your hobby. He won't suspect a thing."

Tzuyu nods, her mind racing. It's a flimsy excuse, but desperation has a way of making the impossible seem doable. She looks up at y/n, her eyes filled with a mix of excitement and fear. "Okay," she whispers, her voice shaky. "But I need to make sure he believes me."

He leans in, his breath hot against her ear. "Just give him a little show," he murmurs. "Let him think you had the best sex of your life. He'll never question it." His words are a challenge, and she feels a thrill run through her body at the thought of deceiving her husband. It's wrong, but the temptation is too great. Tzuyu nods, her heart racing. "Okay," she whispers, the word hanging in the air like a declaration of war. She knows what she's agreeing to, but she can't bring herself to care. All that matters is the feeling of y/n's cock inside her, the way he makes her body sing with pleasure. She's addicted to it, and she's willing to do whatever it takes to get her fix.

He stands up, pulling her to her feet with him. "Let's go," he says, his voice gruff. "But remember, you're still my little slut." He grabs her by the arm and leads her out of the house, not bothering to dress her. She's naked and vulnerable, but she doesn't care. The thrill of being seen is a part of the game now, a part of the thrill. The short walk to her house feels like an eternity. Each step she takes is a silent confession of her infidelity, her bare feet leaving a trail of wetness on the ground. She can feel the cum trickling down her legs, and she knows that y/n is enjoying the sight of her vulnerability. His eyes are dark with lust, and she can see the smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at her. As they reach her door, he leans in and whispers in her ear, "Remember, this is our little secret." He kisses her, hard and possessive, leaving no doubt in her mind who she truly belongs to. His hand slides down to her ass, giving it a firm squeeze. "Now, go inside and get ready for your husband. I want you to think of me every time he touches you."

Tzuyu quickly dressed and returned home, her mind racing with thoughts of y/n's possessive words. She knew she had to clean up and compose herself before her husband returned. As she stepped into her bathroom, the smell of their combined lust still clung to her skin, a potent reminder of the carnality she had just indulged in. With trembling hands, she turned on the shower and stepped under the hot spray, the water washing away the evidence of her infidelity. She scrubbed herself clean, trying to erase the feeling of y/n's touch, but his presence remained, etched into her very soul.

With a deep sigh, she stepped out and dried herself off, feeling the lingering ache in her muscles and the sensitive throbbing of her pussy. She applied her makeup with meticulous care, painting a picture of innocence over her swollen lips and flushed cheeks. Her eyes held a secret, a glint of the depraved desires that now ruled her.

Choosing a dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, Tzuyu slid it over her head. It was a deep crimson color, a stark contrast to the white dress she had worn earlier, symbolizing the shift in her nature. The fabric was soft and luxurious, whispering against her skin, a silent declaration of her sexual awakening. She knew that her husband would not suspect a thing, but the thrill of her secret made her pulse race. The dress ended just above her knees, leaving her long, slender legs bare. She slipped on a pair of matching heels, standing tall and confident, the woman she had always been, yet somehow changed. The neckline plunged low, revealing the swells of her breasts, a silent invitation to her husband to take her in his arms and claim her as his own. Yet, she knew that even as she presented herself to her husband, her thoughts would be consumed by the neighbor who had so thoroughly claimed her body and soul. As she made her way to the living room, Tzuyu felt a strange mix of anxiety and excitement. She knew she had to keep her secret, to hide the dark thrill that now consumed her. The house was quiet, the only sound the ticking of the clock, counting down to the moment her husband would walk through the door.

In those moments of solitude, she allowed herself to remember y/n's touch, his cock filling her up, his mouth on her neck. The guilt was a heavy weight in her stomach, but it was overshadowed by the desire to feel him inside her again. She took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts aside as the key turned in the lock. Her husband's footsteps echoed in the hallway, and she forced a smile to her lips, ready to play the role of the devoted wife once more. The door opened, and her husband walked in, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. "You look beautiful," he said, his voice filled with love and admiration. She felt a pang of guilt, but also a thrill knowing that she had just come from the arms of another man.

Tzuyu stepped closer, her heart racing. "Thank you," she said, her voice a soft purr. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his, and felt a shiver of anticipation. The taste of y/n was still on her, and she knew she had to be careful not to give herself away. But as she pulled away, she couldn't help but wonder if her husband would ever be able to satisfy her the way her neighbor had. The rest of the evening was a blur of forced intimacy and stolen glances. Dinner was a dance of deception, her husband's hand on her thigh sending shivers down her spine, but not the same as when y/n had claimed her earlier.

As the plates were cleared, Tzuyu leaned in, her eyes gleaming with a mischief that didn't quite reach her heart. "How about we have a little fun before bed?" she whispered, her voice low and seductive. She watched as his eyes lit up with excitement, oblivious to the dark desires that had been stirred within her. Her husband didn't need much convincing, his hand sliding up to cup her breast as they kissed, his tongue exploring her mouth. She responded mechanically, her body going through the motions of desire while her mind was elsewhere. In the bedroom, she undressed slowly, the crimson dress pooling around her ankles like a sea of forbidden passion. She felt his gaze on her, hungry and expectant, and she knew she had to perform. Their lovemaking was gentle, a stark contrast to the roughness she had experienced with y/n. His touches were tender, his kisses sweet, but they couldn't dull the ache inside her. She found herself imagining y/n's strong hands, his dominating presence, as her husband moved above her. She moaned and arched her back, trying to find the release she craved, but it remained elusive.

The act was a farce, a tragic play where she was the star, forced to hide her true desires. Yet she played her part well, her body responding to the familiar rhythm despite her heart's betrayal. She felt the beginnings of an orgasm, a pale shadow of the earth-shattering climaxes she had shared with her neighbor. She bit her lip, stifling a cry that was more frustration than pleasure. Afterwards, as her husband lay spent beside her, Tzuyu couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. She had once cherished these moments, but now they felt hollow. Her mind was a battlefield of guilt and lust, love and deceit, and she wasn't sure which side would emerge victorious. As the room grew quiet, she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts racing. She had agreed to go to the Maldives with y/n, but the reality of her decision was now sinking in.

Summoning her courage, she turned to face her husband, her voice a whisper in the darkness. "I've been thinking," she began, her heart pounding in her chest. "I need some time for myself. A vacation, maybe two weeks?" Her husband stirred, his eyes half-open. "Two weeks?" he repeated, his voice thick with sleep. "Where do you want to go?". Tzuyu took a deep breath. "I thought maybe I could go to Maldives," she lied, her voice trembling slightly. "Just to clear my head and relax a bit."

He propped himself up on one elbow, studying her. "You sure you'll be okay?" he asked, concern etching lines on his forehead. "You've been so busy with the garden and work."

"I'll be fine," she assured him, forcing a smile. "It's just what I need." His expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead. "If that's what you want," he said, his voice filled with love. "But don't overdo it."

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with relief. She had the green light for her illicit getaway, and she knew she had to use this opportunity wisely. The next few days passed in a blur of preparation and secrecy. She packed her bags, her mind racing with thoughts of what awaited her in the Maldives. Each item she placed in her suitcase felt like a piece of her soul being torn away from her husband and given to y/n. Yet she couldn't deny the excitement that bubbled up inside her. The anticipation of those two weeks of unbridled passion was a siren's song, luring her further into the depths of her own depravity.

When the day of her departure finally arrived, she kissed her husband goodbye, feeling the weight of her lie pressing down on her like a leaden blanket. "I love you," she murmured, her voice filled with genuine affection and a hint of sadness. He held her tightly. "I love you too," he said, his eyes searching hers for any sign of trouble. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

With one last kiss, she stepped out of the door, her heart in her throat. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm glow over the neighborhood that felt eerily deceptive. As she walked to y/n's house, her thoughts swirled like a tornado. Was she making a mistake? Could she really go through with this?

But when she saw his car parked out front, her doubts evaporated. He was waiting for her, a dark figure silhouetted against the early morning light. His eyes met hers, and she knew she had made her choice. With a final look back at her house, she stepped into the car, leaving her old life behind. The drive to the airport was tense, filled with unspoken words and heated glances. His hand found hers, and she felt a spark of electricity run through her body. It was wrong, she knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help the way her body responded to him. The thought of two weeks of unbridled lust was intoxicating, and she was already drunk on the anticipation.

As they boarded the plane, she felt a sense of excitement that she hadn't felt in a long time. This was it, the start of her secret life. A life filled with passion, danger, and a love that she knew she could never confess. She was about to embark on a journey that would change her forever, and she couldn't wait to see where it would take her. The flight to the Maldives was long, but the anticipation kept her awake. Every bump of the plane brought her closer to y/n, and she found herself leaning into him, craving his touch. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, his breath warm and tantalizing. His words painted a picture of what awaited her when they arrived at the homestay, and she couldn't help but let her imagination run wild.

"When we get there, Tzuyu," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down her spine, "you won't be able to wear a single fabric. You'll be mine, to do with as I please." His hand slid down to her thigh, his fingers tracing the line of her panties, and she couldn't help but gasp at the sudden intrusion. The promise in his eyes was clear: she would be his plaything, his personal sex doll to use and discard at his will. Her heart raced at the thought, a delicious blend of fear and excitement coursing through her veins. She knew she should be scared, that this was wrong on so many levels, but she couldn't help the way her body responded to his touch. She was a moth to his flame, and she knew that she would burn if she got too close, but she couldn't resist the pull.

The homestay was more luxurious than she had ever imagined, a private villa on a secluded island, surrounded by crystal clear waters and lush vegetation. It was a paradise, and she knew that she was about to experience the kind of passion that most people only dreamed of. As they stepped into the villa, he grabbed her hand, pulling her into the bedroom. "Now," he said, his voice low and demanding. "Strip." She knew what was expected of her, and she didn't hesitate. Her clothes fell to the floor in a heap, leaving her naked and vulnerable before him. His eyes devoured her, and she felt a thrill of power knowing that she had this effect on him.

He approached her slowly, his own clothes disappearing piece by piece until he stood before her, his erection proud and thick. "Now let's go sleep first," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. It was clear that his idea of 'sleep' was anything but innocent. Tzuyu felt a thrill at his words, her body responding to his dominance in ways she hadn't thought possible. They climbed into the large, plush bed together, the softness enveloping them like a warm embrace. He pulled her into his arms, her back pressed against his chest as he spooned her, his cock nestling between her thighs. His breath was hot on her neck, and she shivered with anticipation. As they lay there, she felt a strange sense of peace. Despite the guilt and fear that plagued her, she knew that she had made the right choice. This was what she needed, what she craved. The gentle stroking of his fingers along her skin was like a balm to her soul, calming the storm of emotions that raged within her. She closed her eyes, letting herself drift off to sleep in the safety of his arms.

When she awoke, it was to the sound of waves crashing against the shore outside their window. The room was bathed in soft, early morning light, and y/n's arms were still tight around her, his body spooning hers. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, and she knew that he was already awake, waiting for her. Slowly, she rolled over to face him, his eyes opening to meet hers. They were filled with a gentle, almost tender expression that she had never seen before. He leaned in, his breath warm against her face, and kissed her softly. "Are you happy, Tzuyu?" he asked, his voice low and thick with sleep. The question hung in the air, and she felt a lump form in her throat. How could she answer that? Was she happy? She had a husband who loved her, a beautiful home, and a life that was the envy of many. Yet, here she was, in a foreign country, in the arms of a man who was not her husband, feeling more alive than she had in years. She looked into his eyes, searching for a hint of what he was truly feeling. The tenderness in his gaze was unmistakable, and she knew that he cared for her. But was it enough? Was this fleeting passion worth the risk of losing everything she had built with her husband? "I... I don't know," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I know that when I'm with you, I feel alive."

Y/n's smile grew, and he kissed her again, deeper this time. His hands roamed over her body, reawakening the desires that had kept her up half the night. "Good," he murmured against her lips. "Let's enjoy the beach from our terrace," he said, standing up and holding out a hand to help her to her feet. Tzuyu took it, the warmth of his touch sending a thrill through her. She allowed him to lead her to the large, open-air balcony that faced the sea. The view was breathtaking, the sun rising over the water, casting a warm glow over the white sand and the palm trees that swayed gently in the breeze.

He handed her a glass filled with a fruity concoction, the aroma of tropical berries and mint filling her nose. "It's a Maldivian specialty," he said, watching as she took a sip. The drink was cool and refreshing, a perfect balance of sweetness and tartness that made her taste buds tingle. In his other hand, he held a plate piled high with breakfast: fluffy pancakes, crispy bacon, fresh fruits, and a dollop of cream. "Thank you," Tzuyu said, her voice thick with emotion. The gesture was so simple, yet it felt like a declaration of his affection. They sat at the small table on the balcony, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore acting as a soothing backdrop to their conversation. They talked about everything: their hopes, their fears, their secrets. The air between them was charged with the electricity of their shared confessions, and she found herself opening up to him in ways she never had with her husband.

"When we arrived, you told me to always be naked," she said, looking down at her plate, her cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink. "Until now, you didn't tease me. What do you actually plan?" Y/n's eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned back in his chair. "Oh, I plan to enjoy every moment with you, Tzuyu," he said, his voice dropping to a low, seductive tone. "But I want us to savor this time together. To remember it for the rest of our lives." He took a sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim of his cup. "Life is not just about sex, as amazing as it is. It's about the connections we make, the experiences we share."

Her heart fluttered at his words. She had never heard anyone speak to her with such tenderness, such raw emotion. It was as if he saw right through her, into the very core of her soul. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice a whisper. He placed his hand over hers, his thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles. "I mean that I want to know you, Tzuyu," he said, his eyes searching hers. "Your thoughts, your dreams, what makes you happy, what makes you cry. I want to be the one who brings you pleasure, not just physically, but emotionally and mentally as well." The sincerity in his voice took her by surprise. She had never expected their relationship to evolve into something so profound. Yet, as she looked into his eyes, she could see that he meant every word. She felt a warmth spread through her chest, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time. "I... I want that too," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

They spent the rest of the morning exploring the island, hand in hand. The turquoise waters of the ocean sparkled in the sun, and the gentle breeze played with their hair. They talked and laughed, sharing stories of their pasts and dreams for the future. It was as if the weight of the world had lifted from her shoulders, and she could breathe again. Tzuyu felt free, truly free for the first time in what felt like an eternity. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, they made their way back to the homestay, their stomachs rumbling with hunger. The scent of the sea lingered on their skin, a tantalizing reminder of their adventure. Inside, the room was cool and inviting, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the disheveled bed where their passions had unfolded earlier that morning.

Y/n pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her waist as he leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss that spoke of love and passion intertwined. His mouth moved with purpose, his tongue exploring the depths of hers with a hunger that had only grown with time. The tender way his fingers traced the contours of her face made her heart flutter, a stark contrast to the fiery need that had driven their earlier encounters. Tzuyu's breath hitched as he gently guided her to the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. She could see the love and desire swirling within him, and it filled her with a warmth she had never known. His touch was like a balm to her soul, soothing the ache that had been festering since her wedding day. As they lay down, she felt the coolness of the sheets against her skin, a stark reminder of the heat that they had generated together. He took his time, his lips tracing a fiery path down her neck, across her collarbones, and finally reaching the swollen mounds of her breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth before switching to the other, making her gasp with pleasure. His hands roamed her body, relearning every curve and dip, as if committing them to memory for the long nights when she wouldn't be by his side.

"Make me feel good, y/n," she begged, her voice a breathy whisper. "Please, suck my pussy until I can't stop squirting." Without a word, he complied, his eyes dark with desire as he positioned himself between her legs. He took a moment to admire her bare pussy, glistening with arousal, before lowering his head and pressing his mouth to her clit. Tzuyu's body arched off the bed as he began to suck and lick, his tongue flicking and swirling in a way that made her vision swim with pleasure. He was relentless, his mouth a vortex of sensation that she couldn't escape from, even if she wanted to. 

Her hips began to rock against his face, her movements growing more erratic as the tension built within her. The feeling was exquisite, a symphony of pleasure that grew more intense with every passing moment. She could feel the beginnings of her squirt, the dam threatening to burst, and she knew that when it did, it would be a flood unlike anything she had ever experienced before. The first wave hit her like a surprise summer storm, her pussy gushing wetness into his mouth. He groaned, the vibration of his pleasure sending shockwaves through her body. She looked down at him, his eyes locked onto hers, and she felt a strange sense of power. Her body was responding to him in a way she had never thought possible, and she reveled in it.

As her orgasm subsided, y/n didn't stop. He continued to stroke his cock, the sound of his hand moving up and down his shaft a rhythmic counterpoint to the soft cries of pleasure that escaped her lips. His eyes never left hers, and she felt a strange sense of vulnerability in that moment. He knew her body better than anyone else, and the thought made her pussy clench around his tongue. He pulled away, and she felt the cool air of the room kiss her sensitive flesh. His hand was a blur as he stroked himself, the head of his cock shiny with pre-cum. She watched, mesmerized, as he brought himself closer to the edge, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The sight of his barely contained desire was intoxicating, and she found herself eager for what was to come.

"Do you want it?" he growled, his eyes never leaving hers. "Do you want to feel me inside you again?" Tzuyu nodded, unable to form the words that would express the intensity of her need. She watched as he began to stroke his cock, the motion of his hand a mesmerizing dance that had her pussy pulsing with anticipation. He stood up, his erection bobbing with every step as he approached her. The head of his cock was a deep shade of red, a stark contrast to her pale skin.

Without a word, he leaned in and placed the tip of his cock at her entrance, the precum glistening in the soft light. He pushed in slowly, savoring every inch of her, making sure she felt every part of him. Tzuyu moaned, her body stretching to accommodate his girth. It was as if her pussy had been made for him, a perfect fit that sent sparks of pleasure through her with every movement. Their bodies moved in harmony, a symphony of passion that resonated through the quiet room. Her walls clenched around him, begging for more as he thrust deeper, filling her completely. The sound of their flesh slapping together was a sweet music that only they could hear, a testament to their illicit bond. The scent of their desire filled the air, a heady aroma that made them both drunk with lust. 

Tzuyu felt so loved in that moment, the sex was different from what they had experienced before. It was no longer just about the raw, animalistic need to be filled. There was a tenderness in his touch that she hadn't felt previously, a gentle caress that sent shivers down her spine. His kisses were no longer just about claiming her, but about expressing the depth of his feelings. It was as if the walls between them had crumbled, and she could feel the love that had been simmering beneath the surface all along. As they lay on the bed, their bodies entwined, she watched him with a newfound admiration. His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign that she felt the same way he did. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, words that seemed to hold the power to heal her soul. The passion grew with every breath they shared, and she felt herself climbing to a peak that she had never reached before. Tzuyu's body arched as y/n's cock slid in and out of her, their movements slow and deliberate. He knew her body like a maestro knew their instrument, playing her to perfection. She felt the pressure building, the familiar feeling of her pussy clenching around his shaft. And then, it happened. The dam broke, and she squirted again, her juices soaking the bed beneath them. The intensity of her orgasm took her by surprise, and she screamed his name into the quiet night.

Y/n felt her pussy contract around him, the warmth of her squirt enveloping him, sending waves of pleasure through his body. He had never felt so connected to someone, so in sync with their desires. As she came down from her climax, her eyes searched his, and he knew that she felt it too. The bond between them was unbreakable, forged in passion and desire. He continued to move inside her, the sound of her squirt mixing with the slap of their skin. With each stroke, Tzuyu felt herself falling deeper into the abyss of pleasure. It was as if every nerve ending in her body was alive, singing with the sweet agony of ecstasy. Her pussy was still spasming, trying to milk every last drop of cum from him, even though he hadn't come yet. The feeling was unlike anything she had ever experienced with her husband, and she couldn't help but crave more of it. Y/n's cock was like a living, breathing entity, a beast that demanded her full attention. Each time he pushed into her, she felt like she was being claimed, owned. His eyes never left hers, and she saw the same hunger reflected in their depths. The connection between them was palpable, a live wire that sizzled and crackled with each touch. Tzuyu's pussy clenched around him, desperate for release. She felt the pressure building, a dam ready to burst. "Again," she whispered, her voice hoarse from her screams. "Make me squirt again." Y/n grinned, feeling the challenge in her words. He knew her body better than she did, and he was eager to push her to new heights of pleasure. He picked up the pace, his cock sliding in and out of her with ease, the squelching sounds of their lovemaking echoing through the quiet room.

Tzuyu's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt the familiar sensation building within her. Her body tensed, her muscles tightening as she approached the edge. "Oh god," she moaned, her voice barely audible. "I'm going to squirt again." Y/n's grin grew wider, his strokes becoming more forceful. He could feel her pussy tightening around his cock, the walls contracting in anticipation of her release. He knew she was close, and the thought of her squirting all over him again was driving him wild. He thrust deeper, his own need for release growing with every passing second.

The pressure inside Tzuyu was unbearable, a dam ready to burst. With a guttural cry, she squirted again, her pussy spasming around his cock. The warmth of her juices coated his shaft, sending him spiraling into his own climax. He roared, his hips jerking as he pumped his hot cum into her, filling her to the brim. They both stilled, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, their bodies entwined in a sticky mess of sweat and cum.

Y/n leaned down, kissing her cheeks and forehead with gentle reverence. The tender gesture was a stark contrast to the brutal passion that had just taken place. His kisses were like a balm to her soul, soothing the guilt that had been gnawing at her. He looked into her eyes, and she saw a mix of satisfaction and something else, something deeper, something that made her heart clench in her chest. Tzuyu felt a single tear slip down her cheek. The emotions that were swirling within her were too much to contain. She had never felt so alive, so desired, so...free. His thumb brushed away the tear, his gaze never leaving hers. "What's wrong?" he murmured, his voice filled with concern.

"I don't know," she whispered, her voice shaking with a mix of love and lust. "It's just...you make me feel so much, y/n. More than I ever thought was possible." Her eyes searched his, looking for a hint of what he was feeling. Was it just lust, or was there something more? He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her in a warm embrace. "You make me feel alive, Tzuyu," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I've never felt this way before." His words echoed through her, filling her with a warmth that seemed to melt away the last of her inhibitions. She leaned into him, her body fitting perfectly against his, as if they had been made for each other. Their breathing grew synchronized, and the sound of the waves outside the window became a lullaby that soothed them into a deep sleep. The room was filled with the sweet scent of their love making, a potent reminder of the passion they had shared. In the quiet, Tzuyu felt safe, protected by the very arms that had brought her such pleasure.

As they lay there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the lines between reality and dreams began to blur. Her mind drifted to the life she had left behind, the quiet mornings in her garden, and the comforting warmth of her husband's arms. Yet, here she was, nestled against the very man she had been warned about, her neighbor whose intentions were anything but neighborly. Y/n's chest rose and fell rhythmically, his heartbeat a steady drum beneath her ear. His arms were strong and warm, holding her close as if she might slip away at any moment. Tzuyu felt a pang of guilt at the thought of her husband, but it was quickly drowned out by the delicious feeling of y/n's skin against hers, the memory of his cock still pulsing inside her.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the room grew dark, but the heat between them remained a constant presence. "Good morning, beautiful," He murmured into her hair, his voice a gentle rumble that vibrated through her body. The scent of sizzling bacon filled the room, a welcome intrusion on the cocoon of sleep that had wrapped around them. Tzuyu stirred, her eyes slowly opening to see y/n standing in the kitchen, already dressed in a simple white tee and shorts. She watched him move around the kitchen with the grace of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. His muscles flexed and relaxed as he cooked, a silent dance that was as mesmerizing as the passion they had shared just hours before.

"Good morning," she murmured, her voice thick with the remnants of sleep. Y/n glanced over his shoulder, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. "Morning, beautiful," he replied, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I hope you're hungry. I've made your favorite breakfast."

Tzuyu felt a rush of affection as she sat up, the sheets pooling around her waist. "You take care of me so well," she said, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. It was true; y/n had a way of making her feel cherished, even in the simplest of gestures. He had seen to her every need, both in the bedroom and out of it, and it was a stark contrast to the loveless routine she endured back home. As she slid out of bed, her eyes caught the time on the clock. "My husband always busy for his work," she said with a sigh, the weight of her words sinking into the quiet of the room. Her thoughts drifted to her husband, a man who had once been her rock, now a distant figure consumed by his career.

They enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, the sound of their laughter mingling with the clinking of cutlery. The taste of the crispy bacon and the sweetness of the pineapple juice seemed to amplify the joy bubbling within her. Y/n's eyes never left hers, his gaze a silent promise of the passion they had shared and the secrets they now kept together. After they had finished eating, they decided to take advantage of the Maldivian sunshine. They ventured out to the beach, where they set up a makeshift volleyball net with the ease of two people who had done this countless times before. The sand was hot against her skin, but Tzuyu didn't care. Each step she took was lighter than the last, as if the weight of her guilt had been washed away by the salty ocean air. Their games grew increasingly playful, the ball often forgotten as they chased each other around the beach, their laughter echoing across the shoreline. The warmth of the sun kissed her skin, and she felt alive, more alive than she had in years. Y/n's touch was like a brand, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched her, a stark reminder of the intensity of their connection.

As the sun reached its zenith, they retreated to the shade of the palm trees, their bodies sticky with sweat and saltwater. They talked for hours, sharing stories from their past and dreams for their future. For the first time, Tzuyu felt truly seen and understood. His every word was a balm to her soul, soothing the wounds that her marriage had left behind. Their conversation grew quiet as they lay there, the gentle lull of the waves providing the perfect backdrop for their shared silence. Tzuyu felt a warm hand slip into hers, and she looked up to find y/n's eyes on her, filled with a tenderness that made her heart ache. The rest of the day was a blur of laughter and exploration, their connection growing stronger with every shared smile and touch. They swam in the crystal-clear waters, the fish darting around them like living jewels, and Tzuyu felt a sense of freedom she had long ago forgotten.

As the sun began to set, casting the sky in a symphony of pinks and oranges, they returned to their homestay, their bodies exhausted but their spirits soaring. They showered together, the water cascading over their entwined forms as they washed away the remnants of the day's adventures. Their night was spent in each other's arms, their bodies moving in a dance as old as time. The guilt had receded to the back of her mind, replaced by the all-consuming need for his touch. His cock filled her once again, stretching her to the limits of pleasure and pain, making her squirt uncontrollably. Each thrust was a declaration of his ownership, and she reveled in it, her cries of ecstasy a testament to their shared passion.

Their bodies finally stilled, their hearts pounding in unison. Tzuyu looked into y/n's eyes and knew she was lost to him, body and soul. Her marriage was a fading memory, replaced by the vibrant reality of their affair. As they lay there, basking in the afterglow, she knew she had made her choice. The question now was how she would face the consequences when she returned home. But for now, all that mattered was the warmth of his embrace, the sound of his heartbeat, and the feeling of his seed still warm inside her. Their days in the Maldives were numbered, but their bond was unbreakable, forged in the heat of passion and tempered by the salty sea air. As they drifted off to sleep, she whispered the words she had been too scared to say aloud. "I love you, y/n." His reply was a gentle kiss on her forehead. "And I love you, Tzuyu." It was a simple declaration, but it held the weight of the world. They had crossed the point of no return, and she knew that she would never be the same again. The quiet night outside their window held the promise of tomorrow, and all the secrets it would bring. They decided to watch a movie, a romantic film that mirrored the tumultuous emotions swirling within them. As the plot unfolded, their eyes remained locked, the unspoken understanding between them speaking louder than any words on the screen. His arm was around her, her head resting on his chest, and she could feel the steady thump of his heart. It was a comforting rhythm that seemed to sync with her own erratic beat. The movie's soundtrack swelled, and Tzuyu felt the warmth of his breath against her ear as he whispered sweet nothings, his voice a gentle caress that sent shivers down her spine. She was lost in the moment, her hand playing idly with the soft hairs on his chest as she listened to the soothing lilt of his voice. It was a stark contrast to the silence she had grown accustomed to in her own home, and she found herself craving more of it. As the credits rolled, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV, casting flickering shadows across their entwined bodies. Without a word, y/n turned off the screen, and the darkness wrapped around them like a velvet blanket. She could hear the gentle crash of the waves outside, a lullaby that sang of passion and freedom.

Tzuyu shifted in his arms, her head resting on his bare chest. His heartbeat was steady and strong, a comforting rhythm that seemed to sync with the ebb and flow of the ocean. She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the day's events pressing down on her eyelids. Her body was sated, her mind a whirlwind of emotions that she didn't dare untangle just yet. With a gentle sigh, y/n lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as if they belonged there. He carried her through the villa, their steps silent on the cool marble floor. The moon cast a soft glow through the windows, painting the room in a palette of blues and grays. The air was thick with the scent of their lovemaking, a heady mix of sweat and desire that clung to their skin like a second skin. He laid her down on the bed with the same care that he had shown in her garden, his movements smooth and precise. She curled into him, her body fitting against his like a perfect puzzle piece. His arms wrapped around her, cradling her to his chest as if she was the most precious thing in the world. For a moment, she felt like she could stay in this cocoon forever, protected from the storm that was brewing outside.

The next few days were a blur of passion, laughter, and stolen moments. They explored the island with a hunger that went beyond the scenic beauty that surrounded them. Each glance, each touch, was a silent promise of the nights to come. Y/n treated her like a queen, ensuring she was pampered from dawn to dusk. He took her to the best restaurants, where they feasted on exotic foods that danced on her tongue, and he whispered sweet nothings that made her heart flutter like a caged bird. 

In the afternoons, they would retreat to the villa, where the air was charged with a tension that could only be relieved by the fiery kisses and desperate embraces that led them back to the bedroom. He would take his time with her, exploring every inch of her body as if it was the first time, making her squirt with every stroke of his tongue and every thrust of his cock. Her screams of pleasure echoed through the walls, a siren's call that seemed to beckon the very ocean to their doorstep.

And when the nights fell, they would make love with a fervor that was both terrifying and exhilarating. Each orgasm was a declaration of their love, a secret shared only between them. He whispered sweet promises into her ear, and she clung to him as if he was her lifeline, her only source of oxygen in the vast sea of her own desires. The vacation was not just about fun and lust; it was about finding a part of herself that she had buried deep within, a part that only y/n had the power to unleash.

But with each day that passed, the shadow of their impending separation grew longer. The laughter grew a little less genuine, the kisses a little more desperate. They both knew that the end was approaching, and yet, neither of them dared to speak of it. Instead, they filled their days with a passion that was as intense as it was bittersweet, trying to memorize every moment, every sensation, as if it could somehow preserve the magic of their time together.

On their last night, they stood on the balcony, holding each other tightly as the waves crashed against the shore. The moon was a silver sliver in the sky, casting a gossamer veil over the world below. He whispered her name, and she knew that she had to tell him how she felt. The words tumbled from her lips, a confession that had been building for days. "I love you, y/n," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. He pulled her closer, his heart pounding in his chest. He had hoped, prayed even, that she felt the same way he did. But hearing her say it was like being struck by lightning. "Tzuyu," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I love you too."

They kissed, their bodies pressed together as if they could somehow merge into one. The wind whipped around them, carrying their whispers out to the sea, a silent testament to the love that had bloomed in the most unlikely of places. The night was theirs, a stolen treasure that they would hold onto for as long as they could. The bedroom was a sanctuary, their final bastion of passion before the cold reality of their lives would come crashing down on them. They made love, their bodies moving in a dance that was as old as time itself. Each thrust was a declaration of war against the world that sought to tear them apart, each kiss a silent promise to find a way to make it work.

But as the dawn approached, the inevitable truth dawned on them. This was not a fairy tale where they could live happily ever after. They were two people from different worlds, bound by a love that was as fierce as it was forbidden. With heavy hearts, they dressed in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The plane ride home was a stark reminder of the life that awaited her. The empty seat beside her was a gaping hole, a painful reminder of the man she had left behind. She knew she had to return to her husband, to her garden, and to the quiet life she had built for herself. But she also knew that she could never be the same.

The taste of y/n's kisses lingered on her lips, a sweet agony that she both cherished and despised. The vacation had been a gift, the best she had ever received, but it had also unleashed a beast within her that she could no longer ignore. Each day was a whirlwind of sensual delights, a buffet of carnality that she feasted on greedily. They had explored every corner of the island, every hidden cove and sandy beach, making love under the shade of palm trees and in the warm embrace of the tropical sun.

Yet, amidst the fun and lust, y/n had been more than just a lover; he had been a caretaker, anticipating her every need. He had pampered her, spoiled her, showered her with affection that she had longed for in her loveless marriage. He had taken her to the heights of pleasure, whispering sweet nothings that had her toes curling and her pussy gushing. He had treated her like a queen, and she had reveled in the attention, letting herself be swept away by the current of his passion.

The final night in the Maldives was a crescendo of their love. They made love with an intensity that was almost violent, as if trying to imprint every sensation into their very souls. The bed was a battlefield, their cries of pleasure piercing the quiet night. His touch was a brand, searing into her flesh the memory of his love. And when the final orgasm had left her trembling and spent, she knew that she could never go back to the way things were before.

The next morning, as they packed their bags, the weight of their impending separation was palpable. They had shared two week of unbridled passion, but now they had to face the cold, hard truth. They were not teenagers with endless summers ahead of them; they were adults with responsibilities, with lives that didn't include each other. The air was thick with unspoken words, a fog that clouded her vision and made her heart ache. He looked up from his suitcase and met her gaze, his eyes filled with a desperation that mirrored her own. "Can you be mine, Tzuyu?" he asked, his voice raw with emotion. The words hung in the air, a question that held the power to shatter the fragile world they had built together. She swallowed hard, her eyes filling with tears. She wanted to say yes, to scream it from the rooftops and let the world know that she belonged to him.

But she knew she couldn't. She had a husband, a life that didn't include y/n. A life that was safe, predictable, and utterly devoid of the passion that had come to define her existence in the last two weeks. She felt torn in two, her heart a battleground for love and duty. "I don't know, y/n," she said softly, her voice trembling with the weight of her words. "I'm married. I can't just leave him." His eyes searched hers, desperation and hurt fighting for dominance. "But you said you loved me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You said I was the best you've ever had." Tzuyu felt the truth of his words like a knife to her heart. She had said those things, and she had meant them in the throes of passion. But love was not just about passion; it was about a lifetime of shared moments, commitments, and trust. "I do love you," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I also love my husband, and I don't know how to tell him that I want a divorce."

Y/n's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flickering in his gaze. "How about we fuck in front of your husband?" he said, his tone cold and calculating. "Let him see what he's been missing out on." Tzuyu felt the blood drain from her face at the mere suggestion. "What are you talking about?" she stammered, her heart racing. "That's insane." Y/n shrugged, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "It's just an idea," he said, his eyes dark with a mix of anger and lust. "But think about it. He'd see how much you truly crave me, how much pleasure I give you."

Tzuyu's mind raced with the implications of his words. The thought of her husband watching as y/n claimed her body was both terrifying and arousing. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way, but she couldn't shake off the temptation that whispered sweet nothings into her ear. "I don't know if I agree," she said, her voice shaking.

"Why not?" he demanded, his grip on her wrist tightening. "You said you love me. You said you want me to fuck you every day. What's the difference if he watches?" Tzuyu's heart hammered in her chest. "I...I need time to think," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. The thought of her husband seeing her with y/n, of the pain it would cause him, was too much to bear.

Y/n's smile faded, replaced by a look of cold calculation. He released her wrist and took a step back. "Fine," he said, his voice clipped. "But don't take too long. I won't wait forever."

The tension in the room was palpable as they both dressed in silence. The magic of the Maldives had been shattered by the harsh light of reality. Tzuyu felt a deep sadness in her heart, knowing that their perfect bubble of passion was about to pop. They had to face the truth of their situation: two people in love, trapped in separate lives. They made their way to the airport, the weight of their secret hanging heavy in the air between them. The ride was tense, filled with unspoken words and furtive glances. The tropical paradise outside the window was a stark contrast to the turmoil in the car. Tzuyu's mind was a whirlwind of emotions, torn between the love she had just discovered and the life she was returning to.

At the airport, they checked in for their flights, the mundane process feeling like a slap in the face.  They found a quiet corner away from prying eyes, and Tzuyu reached for y/n's hand, lacing her fingers through his. He looked down at her, his expression a mix of love and desperation.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. "I don't know how to do this." He squeezed her hand tightly, his gaze intense. "Just think what I planned before, it's the only way." His voice was firm, a declaration of his resolve to claim her fully. Tzuyu felt a shiver run down her spine at his words. She knew the depth of his jealousy, the possessiveness that had grown within him during their time together. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to agree to such an extreme act. The thought of her husband watching, of the humiliation and pain it would cause, was too much to bear. But she also knew that y/n's love was like a tempest, unyielding and all-consuming. Her husband's arrival at the airport was a blur of smiles and hugs. She forced herself to play the role of the loving wife, while her heart was a tumult of passion and guilt. Y/n's gaze never left them, his eyes dark with unspoken anger and desire. She could feel his longing, his need for her to be his alone. As she walked away with her husband, she looked back over her shoulder, her eyes meeting y/n's. He mouthed the words "I'll be waiting." The car ride home was awkward, her mind racing with thoughts of the man she was leaving behind. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, that y/n's eyes were following her every move, even though he was miles away. Her husband noticed her distant behavior and attributed it to jet lag and the emotional strain of their vacation.

"Why are all your clothes clean?" he asked as they unpacked their suitcases in the bedroom, a hint of confusion in his tone. Tzuyu's heart skipped a beat. She had been so lost in her thoughts she hadn't realized she had brought back her dirty clothes from the Maldives. "Oh, I did a bit of laundry while you were away," she replied with a casual shrug, hoping her lie wasn't too transparent. The truth was she hadn't worn anything other than y/n's cum-stained clothes for the entire duration of their vacation. Each piece was a silent testament to their passionate encounters, and she had wanted to keep them close, a secret shrine to their love. But she couldn't risk her husband discovering her infidelity.

The days that followed were a blur of mundane routines and stolen glances at her phone, hoping for a message from y/n. She found herself replaying their moments in the Maldives, the way his hands had touched her, the sound of his moans in her ear, the feel of his warm cum filling her up. Her body ached for him, a craving that no amount of self-pleasure could satisfy. Her thoughts were consumed by the idea of y/n, his dominance, his love, and the intensity of their bond. Her husband noticed her distant gaze and the lack of enthusiasm in her voice when they talked. He attributed it to the post-vacation blues, not realizing that her heart was elsewhere, entangled in a web of guilt and desire for a man who wasn't him. Tzuyu forced a smile, going through the motions of a happy marriage, all the while feeling the emptiness of her bed, the coldness of the sheets that hadn't felt y/n's warmth in days.

Each night, she lay beside her husband, her body tense and unyielding. She tried to ignore the whispers of y/n's name that danced in her head, the memories of his touch that made her skin crawl with need. But the silence between them was a stark reminder of the passion she had left behind. She missed the way he had made her feel alive, the way he had claimed her, heart and soul. And as she stared into the darkness, she wondered if she could ever truly go back to the life she had before y/n. Her thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of her phone on the nightstand. She reached for it with trembling hands, her heart racing at the sight of his name. **"U have three days left,"** the message read, **"If you don't give me an answer, I will leave you."** She read the words over and over, the ultimatum sinking in like a dagger to her heart. She knew she had to make a choice, one that would change the course of her life forever.

For two agonizing days, she walked around in a daze, her mind consumed by the images of their shared passion and the fear of losing the love she had found in his arms. She felt like a moth drawn to a flame, unable to resist the allure of his dominance, his touch, his love. The guilt of her actions sat like a heavy stone in her stomach, but the thought of never feeling his warmth again was unbearable. The final day came, and with it, a strange sense of clarity. She knew she couldn't keep living a lie, torn between her duty and her desires. With trembling fingers, she typed out her response. **"Okay,"** she sent back, her heart pounding in her chest. **"I will do it."** It was a decision that would shake the very foundations of her world, a declaration of her willingness to embrace the forbidden.

The anticipation grew with each passing hour, her body thrumming with a mix of excitement and dread. She knew what was coming, the ultimate test of her love for y/n and her commitment to their illicit bond. The night of the dinner party loomed over her like a dark cloud, but she couldn't bring herself to back out. Her fate was sealed; she had accepted his plan.

With trembling fingers, Tzuyu sent the message: **"How is the plan?"** She watched the screen, waiting for his response with bated breath. **"Good, I've been waiting for this,"** y/n replied with a smug smile. **"When he leaves for work, send him a message."**

The next day, Tzuyu waited anxiously for the right moment. As her husband packed his briefcase, she took a deep breath and typed out the message. **"Come home right now, there's a mysterious guy outside, i'm getting scared."** She sent it and waited for his response, her heart pounding in her chest. The seconds ticked by like hours, and when she finally heard the notification, she couldn't bring herself to look.

**"Who is this?"** Her husband's reply was swift and filled with confusion. She had never played games like this before, and the risk was palpable. **"It's me,"** she replied, her voice quivering. **"Just come back. I need you."** She watched the screen, willing him to read the urgency in her words. As the time for his return approached, she felt a strange mix of fear and excitement. Her hand shook as she unlocked the door, her body tense with anticipation. Y/n had instructed her to wear something that would drive him wild, so she had chosen a sheer negligee that barely contained her curves. When she heard the sound of his key in the lock, she took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, her heart racing. 

The moment he stepped inside, y/n was on her, his kisses rough and demanding. He pushed her against the wall, his hands roaming her body as if claiming her once more. She gasped into his mouth, the fabric of her lingerie doing little to protect her from the heat of his touch. His hands found her breasts, squeezing them with a ferocity that made her moan, her nipples hardening under his palms. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. "You're mine," he murmured, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "I own every inch of you, Tzuyu. You know it, and now everyone will know it." Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of doubt or regret, but all she found was a fiery determination that mirrored her own. She nodded, her heart racing. "I sent the message," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. "He'll be here soon."

With a smirk, y/n scooped her up in his arms, the strength of his embrace leaving her feeling both protected and vulnerable. He carried her to her bedroom, the same room where she had shared countless passionless nights with her husband. The difference was stark, like stepping from a black-and-white photograph into a world of vibrant color. He placed her gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers, and she felt a strange sense of belonging. He began to tear at the fabric of her negligee, his movements swift and sure, as if he had done this a hundred times before. The sound of the delicate material ripping apart sent a thrill through her, the anticipation of what was to come making her wetter than she ever thought possible. He revealed her breasts with a flourish, the nipples already erect and begging for his touch. His eyes grew dark with lust, and she couldn't help but feel a thrill of power knowing she was the one who had brought that look to his face.

With a low growl, he leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste her. He started licking her body like an animal searching for food, his hot wetness leaving a trail of fire wherever it touched. His tongue danced across her skin, exploring every inch of her with a feral hunger that was both terrifying and exhilarating. He licked her neck, her collarbone, the tops of her breasts, and the sensitive skin of her stomach, his movements growing more urgent with every pass. Tzuyu's body arched off the bed.

"Oh god," she gasped, her hands fisting in the sheets. "Please, y/n, I can't take it anymore."

He looked up at her, his eyes gleaming with victory. "You're going to cum for me, aren't you?" he whispered, his voice a dark promise.

Tzuyu could feel the tension coiling tighter within her, her body a tightly wound spring about to snap. She nodded, unable to form coherent words, as the waves of pleasure grew stronger with every touch of his tongue. Y/n took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking hard while his hand found its way to her pussy. His fingers slid inside her with ease, the wetness of her arousal coating them instantly. He began to pump her, his thumb circling her clit with a rhythm that made her vision blur.

Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, and she screamed out his name, the word echoing through the room. Her pussy clamped down on his fingers, releasing a torrent of juice that soaked the bed. She thrashed against the sheets, her body a wild canvas of passion and desire. The intensity of her climax took her by surprise, and she could feel her cheeks flush with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment.

Y/n pulled away from her breasts, his eyes locked on hers as he slowly slid his fingers out of her. He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, licking the juices from her skin with a wicked grin. "You taste so sweet," he murmured before kissing her deeply, sharing the taste of her pleasure with her.

Her heart was racing in her chest, a wild drumbeat that seemed to echo the pounding of the waves outside their beachside villa. She knew what he wanted, what she had been craving since they had returned from the Maldives. The time for secrets was over; the time to face the consequences of their desires had arrived.

"Now is the time to fucked u," he growled, his voice thick with need. He didn't wait for a response, instead.

He lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist, arms tightly around his neck. Her heart raced as he carried her to the balcony, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she clung to him. She felt like a wild creature being claimed by its mate, the thrill of the forbidden mixing with the fear of being caught.

With one swift motion, he bent her over the railing, the wood biting into her skin. The world below was a blur of lights and shadows, a stark contrast to the intense intimacy of their union. His cock slammed into her, filling her up as the waves crashed against the shore, the rhythm of their passion mirroring the fury of the sea. The sound of their skin slapping together echoed through the quiet night, a secret symphony for their ears only.

Right now, he fucked tzuyu in flying squirrel position in front of the door of her bedroom,it makes tzuyu leg spread wide while his cock keep slamming into her g spot.

The world around them disappeared as they became one, lost in the throes of passion. Tzuyu could feel the eyes of the night on them, a silent audience to their clandestine dance. Yet, she didn't care. All that mattered was the feeling of he's cock inside her, the way he filled her up, the way he made her feel alive.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her mouth formed a silent "O" as he hit her g-spot with unerring precision. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through her body, making her quiver and moan. Her breasts bounced with every impact, and she knew that the sight of her exposed to the elements would only add to his excitement.

And then she heard it. The sound of the door opening, the soft murmur of voices. Her heart skipped a beat, and she pushed against him, trying to get away from the railing. "Y/n, my husband," she whispered frantically, her eyes wide open.

Y/n's grip tightened around her waist, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Let him see," he breathed into her ear, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "Let him know what a whore you are for me."

The sound of her husband's footsteps grew louder as he ascended the stairs, oblivious to the betrayal unfolding in the open. Tzuyu felt a mix of fear and excitement, the danger of discovery making her pulse race even faster.

The bedroom door swung open with a creak that seemed to echo through the house. Her husband's eyes widened in shock and disbelief, taking in the scene before him: Tzuyu's naked body bent over the railing, y/n's muscular frame pounding into her from behind. The sight of her eyes rolled back in ecstasy, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure, and the unmistakable gush of her squirt painting the floorboards was too much for him to comprehend.

Y/n didn't miss a beat, his rhythm never faltering as he continued to claim Tzuyu's pussy with fierce determination. He smirked at the shock on her husband's face, savoring the moment of victory. " she was a slut for my cock," he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and ragged. "did you know she squirts like a fountain when she's really turned on?"

Her husband's face was a mask of rage and betrayal, his fists clenching at his sides. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, the woman he had vowed to love and cherish being used so roughly by another man. But as Tzuyu's eyes met his, filled with a passion that had been absent from their own lovemaking for so long, a spark of doubt flickered in his gaze.

"What is this, Tzuyu?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous.

Her husband's words barely registered in the haze of pleasure that clouded her mind. "I just want to show you," she panted, her voice thick with lust, "that I crave for his big cock."

Y/n's grip on her hips tightened as he drove into her deeper, his own pleasure spiking at her blatant disregard for the consequences. He could see the rage in her husband's eyes, the betrayal etched deep, and it fueled his own desire. "Look how this big dick stretches you out," he murmured, his voice a dark caress that sent shivers down her spine.

Tzuyu felt the beginnings of another orgasm coil in her belly, her pussy tightening around him. "Yes, y/n," she moaned, the words slipping from her lips like a confession. "I want to squirt again. Please, don't stop."

Her husband's eyes bore into them, but she couldn't look away from y/n's, lost in the depths of her own betrayal and the overwhelming pleasure he gave her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice strained with the effort of speaking through the waves of pleasure. "I've been cheating behind your back."

The silence was deafening, only the sound of their breathing and the slap of skin on skin filling the room. Her husband's expression shifted from shock to anger, his fists clenching at his sides. "You what?" he roared, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I just can't, myself was begging to his cock from the first time we did," Tzuyu repeated, her voice a mix of apology and defiance. She felt the warmth of y/n's semen dripping down her legs, the evidence of her infidelity a stark reminder of the choice she had made. The words hung in the air like a noose around her neck, tightening with every passing second.

Her husband's face crumpled, the weight of her confession too much to bear. He stumbled back, his knees buckling as he sank to the floor. His hand came up to cover his eyes, as if to block out the sight of his wife's betrayal. A single tear traced a path down his cheek, a silent testament to the pain he felt in his heart.

Tzuyu watched him, her own body still trembling from her recent climax. She felt a pang of guilt, but it was quickly dwarfed by the fire of lust that burned within her. Y/n's cock was still deep inside her, his hips still moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. He speak to tzuyu husband"Did you know that she was with me two weeks in Maldives, with her body always naked and I could fuck her whenever I wanted?" His words were a taunt, a declaration of victory that echoed through the room.

Her husband looked up at them, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What?" he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. "Is this true, Tzuyu?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice steady. "It was in the Maldives. He made me feel things I've never felt before." She didn't bother to hide the raw emotion in her voice, the love and desire she had for y/n shining through like a beacon.

Her husband's eyes flicked to y/n, his face a mask of fury and pain. "You're a monster," he spat, his hand clenching into a fist. "How could you do this to me?"

"It wasn't just me," y/n said, his voice cold and unapologetic. "It was both of us. She wanted it just as much as I did."

Tzuyu felt his cock pulse inside her with each word, a silent declaration of his claim on her body and soul. She watched her husband's face contort with rage, his eyes flickering between her and y/n, unable to believe the man he had trusted could do this to him.

"Tzuyu, tell him," y/n demanded, his voice thick with his own release. "Tell him how I made you squirt for the first time. Tell him how good I made you feel."

Her eyes flicked to her husband's face, the anger in his eyes a stark contrast to the passion that had just claimed her body. She took a deep breath, the words sticking in her throat. "It's true," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Y/n was the one who made me squirt for the first time."

"How many times i made u squirt and how many times i came inside your womb ?" Y/n ask tzuyu.

Tzuyu felt the weight of his question, the reality of their transgressions pressing down on her like a heavy blanket. "Too many times," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears "maybe thousand or hundred times.".

Her husband's fists clenched at his sides, his eyes dark with betrayal. "Is that all you want from me?" he spat. "To be used like some kind of... some kind of whore?"

Y/n's grip tightened around her, his hips grinding into her. "Tell him," he murmured again, his voice a seductive whisper in her ear. "Tell him you want me, that you need me."

Tzuyu's chest heaved, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "I do," she admitted, the words tearing from her like a confession. "I want to marry you, y/n. I want to have your children."

The room was silent, the only sound the heavy thud of her husband's heart beating against the wall of his chest. Y/n's eyes gleamed with victory, his cock still buried deep within her, her pussy clenching around him in silent agreement.

"You can't be serious," her husband choked out, his voice thick with pain.

Tzuyu looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of regret and determination. "I am," she said softly. "I've never felt this way with you." The words were like a knife, twisting in the wound that had been festering for years.

Her husband's face crumpled, the realization of her betrayal and the depth of her feelings for y/n too much to bear. He pulled away from her, his hand slipping from her cheek. "I'll leave you two," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

He turned, his eyes avoiding the sight of his wife's nakedness, and walked out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Tzuyu and y/n in a heavy silence that was as thick as the scent of their mingled arousal. Tzuyu felt a tear slip down her cheek as she watched her husband's retreating back, the man she had once loved so fiercely now just a shadow of the life she once knew.

Y/n pulled out of her, his cock still hard and slick with her juices. He reached out, his hand tenderly cupping her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. "Don't worry," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "We'll be together now."

The words sent a shiver down her spine, and she nodded, unable to form coherent thoughts. Her body was a live wire, still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasms. She had never felt so alive, so desired, so utterly consumed by someone else's touch. Her marriage felt like a distant memory, a fading photograph that no longer held any significance in the vivid tapestry of her life.

Her husband's footsteps grew fainter as he retreated into the other room, the sound of his pain a stark reminder of the chaos she had just unleashed. But even as the guilt began to creep in, she couldn't deny the pull of y/n's embrace. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss that seemed to promise a future filled with passion and excitement. And she kissed him back, her body responding instinctively, as if it had always been meant for him.

As their kiss deepened, y/n's hand slid down her body, his fingers finding her still-sensitive clit. He began to stroke her again, his movements slow and deliberate, and she moaned into his mouth, her legs parting of their own accord. She didn't care if her husband heard them, didn't care if the entire neighborhood knew. All that mattered was the feel of y/n inside her, the way he made her squirt with every thrust, filling her up with his hot cum.

Their lovemaking was a symphony of desire, each movement in perfect harmony with the other. He took her again and again, their bodies a testament to the power of their connection. She felt him swell inside her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper. "Don't stop," she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. "Make me come again."

He complied, his strokes growing faster, his breath hot against her neck. She could feel her orgasm building, the pressure in her core growing tighter and tighter until she could hold it no longer. She screamed out his name, her body shaking with the force of her release. He followed her over the edge, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his seed. They clung to each other, their hearts beating as one, their bodies slick with sweat.

When the waves of pleasure finally receded, they lay there, their breathing ragged and their hearts still pounding. Tzuyu knew that she had made a choice, a choice that would change her life forever. She looked up at y/n, her eyes filled with love and regret. "What do we do now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze intense. "We do what we should have done from the start," he said, his voice a mix of passion and determination. "I want to claim every part of this house, to erase the stain of your husband's touch from your life." He kissed her again, his tongue exploring the depths of her mouth as if he could taste her soul.

They moved through the house, their bodies entwined, leaving a trail of passion in their wake. Every room held a memory of a mundane moment from her married life, and every time y/n fucked her in a new place, it felt like a declaration of war against the stagnation she had suffered. They were a whirlwind of desire, a force of nature that could not be contained.

In the living room, y/n bent her over the couch, his cock sliding into her from behind as she gripped the cushions. The sound of their flesh slapping together echoed through the space, a stark contrast to the quiet evenings she had spent watching TV with her husband. In the bedroom, she straddled him, her walls clenching around him as if trying to keep him with her forever. Each thrust was a silent promise that she would never again belong to anyone else.

And when they reached the final room, the office where her husband had spent so many nights ignoring her, y/n picked her up and placed her on the desk, her legs spread wide. He took her with a ferocity that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house, and with each stroke, she felt herself breaking free from the chains of her old life. The room was filled with the scent of sex and sweat, a potent mix that intoxicated them both.

As they reached their climax, y/n pulled out and painted her stomach and breasts with his cum, marking her as his. He then took out his phone, capturing the moment forever. The image of her, her pussy still spasming with the aftershocks of pleasure and his seed leaking out of her, was like a trophy of their conquest. Her face was a canvas of ecstasy, her eyes glazed over and her lips swollen from his kisses. She watched him through the reflection in the window, the moonlight casting a glow on their intertwined bodies.

"Send that photo to ur husband to make him envy," he whispered into her ear, his voice a dark caress that sent another shiver down her spine. The idea was thrilling and terrifying in equal measure, but she knew that it was a declaration of war, a declaration that she belonged to him now. Her hand trembled as she took the phone, her thumb hovering over the send button. The weight of the decision was like a boulder on her chest, but she knew she had to do it.

With a deep breath, she send out the photo with caption: "U never make me like this, only y/n can. That's why I choose him." She hit send, and the message disappeared into the digital ether, the final nail in the coffin of her marriage. The silence in the room was deafening as they both waited for a response, the only sound their ragged breaths and the distant wail of a siren outside.

The tension was palpable, but then, y/n leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Let's see what he says," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and malice. Tzuyu couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation bubbling up inside her. The sound was a strange mix of relief and hysteria, a release of all the pent-up emotion from the past few days.

The response was almost immediate. Her husband's furious message filled the screen, a torrent of anger and betrayal that only served to reinforce her decision. She read the words with a detached calm, knowing that she had chosen her path. The photo had been a declaration of her newfound freedom, a declaration of her love for the man who had taught her the true meaning of passion and desire.

Tzuyu looked up from her phone to find y/n watching her, his expression a mix of excitement and concern. She met his gaze, and in that moment, she knew that she had made the right choice. He was her future, the man who had brought color to her once-monochrome life. The man who had made her squirt like a teenager and brought her to heights of pleasure she had never before known.

With a shaky smile, she turned to him, her heart racing with anticipation. "It's done," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the thunderous pounding in her chest. "I've sent it."

Y/n's eyes lit up with triumph, and he pulled her into a fierce embrace. "You're mine," he murmured against her ear, his voice a low growl that sent a thrill down her spine. "Mine to fuck, mine to love, mine to marry."

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions. The divorce was swift and brutal, a battle of wills that Tzuyu emerged from with the victory she had sought. Her husband's disbelief and rage only fueled her resolve, and she walked away from the ashes of their marriage with her head held high, her heart filled with the promise of a life with y/n.

Their wedding was a small affair, an intimate gathering of those who truly mattered. As she exchanged vows with the man who had claimed her so thoroughly, she felt a sense of belonging that she had never known before. His hand in hers was a promise of forever, a promise she eagerly accepted.

Their honeymoon suite was a sanctuary of love, a place where y/n could continue to worship her body in every way imaginable. The walls echoed with her cries of pleasure, her pussy squirting in response to his relentless lovemaking. Every thrust of his cock was a declaration of his love, and she reveled in the feeling of being filled by him, over and over again.

In those passionate moments, time seemed to stand still. His love was an intoxicating force that consumed her, leaving her breathless and begging for more. Her body was his playground, and he explored it with a hunger that never ceased. Each orgasm was a testament to their connection, a shared secret that bound them closer than any vow could ever do.

Yet, amidst the passion, Tzuyu was acutely aware of the world outside their bubble. She knew that their love was not universally accepted, that there would be whispers and judgments. But as she felt his cum fill her once again, she also knew that she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the love they shared, the love that had set her free from the shackles of her old life.

Their love was a storm, wild and untamed, and it raged on unabated. Each day brought new heights of ecstasy, each night a symphony of moans and whispers of love. They were lost in a sea of passion that neither wanted to navigate out of. And as Tzuyu lay there, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure, she whispered the words she had been longing to say. "I want your baby," she said, her eyes shining with hope.

Y/n's smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, a smile that spoke of joy and love and a future filled with the sweet chaos of a family. He leaned in to kiss her, his cock still nestled inside her, and she knew that she had made the right choice.

Their love grew with each passing day, and soon, her belly grew too. The thought of carrying his child was a miracle she had never dared to dream of. Yet, as her stomach swelled with new life, she felt a sense of peace that surpassed all understanding.

But with the joy came the fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the judgmental eyes of the world, fear of the future. Yet, every time she looked into y/n's eyes, she found strength. His love was a bastion she could always retreat to, a force that could vanquish any doubt or insecurity.

Tzuyu had never felt more alive, more loved, more cherished. Her life was no longer a series of mundane routines but a tapestry of passion and excitement, woven together by the threads of their love. And as she watched him sleep, his hand resting gently on her rounded belly, she knew that she would face whatever the future held with the same fierce determination that had brought them to this moment.

For she was not just a woman in love; she was a woman transformed, a woman who had found her true self in the arms of the man who had claimed her heart and her body, forever.

Years passed, and with each season, Tzuyu felt y/n's love for her deepen. His cock had become a symbol of their union, a beacon of pleasure that pierced through the darkness of doubt and uncertainty. He gave her his essence, his very life force, with every creampie, filling her womb with the hope of new life. Yet, as the months grew into years, the absence of a child grew heavier, a question mark hanging over their love nest. Despite the relentless passion, the fertility tests remained negative, the doctors puzzled.

Tzuyu's mind swirled with questions, each more troubling than the last. Had she waited too long? Was there something wrong with her? Yet, y/n's love remained unwavering, his desire for her as potent as ever. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, promising her the world, and she believed him, for she had seen him move mountains with his love. His semen was a sacred elixir, a gift that she craved and revered, and she took it gratefully, her pussy swelling with each injection of his love.

Their lovemaking had become a ritual, a dance of desire and need that transcended the physical realm. He would fuck her until she was nothing but a trembling mess of pleasure, her pussy gushing with the evidence of her love for him. And then, he would fill her, his cock pulsing with life, his semen spilling into her with a warmth that seemed to reach the very core of her soul. Afterwards, they would lay entwined, her body a canvas for his adoration, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

But the whispers grew louder with time, the shadows of doubt creeping in. Why wasn't she pregnant? Was it the universe's cruel joke, to give them so much pleasure yet deny them the fruit of their love?.

After five long years, the miracle they had both been praying for finally happened. Tzuyu's belly swelled with life, a testament to their unyielding passion and love. When y/n heard the news, he was over the moon, his eyes shining with a joy that could outshine the stars. He took her in his arms, his cock already hardening at the thought of what they had created together.

He showered her with love and attention, preparing her favorite meals and rubbing her swollen belly with gentle strokes that never failed to elicit a contented sigh from her. He whispered sweet promises to the little life growing inside her, pledging to protect and cherish it as he did its mother. Every creampie now had a purpose, a sacred offering to the child that would soon be a part of them.

Their love grew even more intense with each passing day, the bond between them tightening like a coil about to spring. Y/n took her to the finest doctors, ensuring that she and the baby would receive the best care. He painted the nursery in soft pastels, filling it with plush toys and tiny clothes that made Tzuyu's heart swell with joy. The anticipation of their child's arrival was a constant presence, a drumbeat that grew louder with each passing week.

But the fear remained, a snake coiled around her heart. What if something went wrong? What if she lost the baby? She clung to y/n, drawing strength from his unwavering belief in her, in them. And with each squirt of his love, she felt a surge of power, a reminder that she was not alone in this.

Their love was a force to be reckoned with, a tempest that had weathered the storms of doubt and despair. And as she felt the first flutters of life within her, she knew that together, they could conquer any challenge that lay ahead. The future was uncertain, but in the arms of her lover, with the promise of a new life growing within her, Tzuyu felt ready to face it all.

Y/n was her rock, her anchor in the tumultuous sea of change that washed over her. He anticipated her every need, his gentle touch and soothing words a balm to her frazzled nerves. He knew her body was changing, knew the fears that haunted her dreams. He was there with her, every step of the way, whispering reassurances into her ear as he cradled her swollen belly. His eyes shone with a fierce protectiveness that made her feel like the most cherished creature on earth.

He pampered her, making her favorite meals with a care that bordered on the obsessive. He knew her cravings, her mood swings, and her ever-changing body like the back of his hand. He massaged her sore feet, her swollen ankles, and the small of her back, where the weight of their unborn child rested heavily. He talked to the baby, his deep voice a gentle rumble that made Tzuyu's heart melt. His love was boundless, and she felt it in every stroke, every kiss, every tender caress.

But even as they basked in the glow of their love, the whispers grew louder, the shadows stretching further. Her mind was a maelstrom of what-ifs and fears, her thoughts racing faster than the galloping heartbeat of their child. What if she wasn't enough? What if she failed as a mother? Y/n could see the turmoil in her eyes, the doubt that gnawed at her from within. He took her in his arms, his grip firm yet gentle, and whispered the words that had become their mantra. "We're in this together." And she believed him, because she had no choice but to.

The days grew longer, the nights shorter, and still, y/n was by her side. He held her hand through every doctor's appointment, every ultrasound, his face a mirror of her own excitement and fear. His cock was a symbol of their unity, a bridge that connected them to the life they had created. Whenever she felt overwhelmed, he would fill her with his love, his semen a warm embrace that reminded her that she was not alone.

And in those quiet moments, when the world outside had ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the rhythm of their hearts and the gentle dance of their limbs, she found peace. Their love had become more than just a passionate affair; it was a lifeline, a promise that no matter what the future held, they would face it as one.

Tzuyu felt the weight of his gaze on her, the love in his eyes a beacon that guided her through the fog of uncertainty. And in the stillness of those moments, she knew that she had made the right choice. Her body was changing, her life was transforming, but with y/n beside her, she was ready to embrace it all. For in the chaos of creation, they had found their sanctuary, their love a beacon that shone through the darkest of nights.

The last trimester of her pregnancy brought with it a new set of challenges. Her body had become a vessel for the life they had created together, and y/n's love for her grew in tandem with the child within her. Despite the fear that whispered in the back of her mind that her changing body might push him away, his desire for her only grew stronger. He worshipped her swollen belly, her heavy breasts, and the soft curves that had once been so toned.

Every day, he made love to her, his cock sinking into her swollen pussy with a reverence that brought tears to her eyes. His love was a force that transcended the physical, reaching into the very core of her being. And as they climaxed together, her body convulsed with a pleasure so intense it was almost painful, her juices spurting out like a fountain, soaking their bed, their bodies entwined in a dance of passion and creation.

The sight of her squirting brought him to his own peak, his face a mask of ecstasy as he filled her with his cum. And in those moments, she felt complete, whole. Her breasts grew heavy with milk, her nipples hard and sensitive. And when the sprays of white began, he was there, his mouth eager, drinking in the essence of her love. It was a ritual that bonded them in a way that nothing else could, a testament to their love and the life they had created together.

The sound of their love filled the room, echoing off the walls that had seen so much passion and pain. And as the tremors of their shared climax subsided, she looked into his eyes and knew that she had found her home. Her fears dissipated like morning mist, replaced by a fierce determination to face the future as his slut, as his wife, as the mother of his child. For in the end, it was not just her body that had changed; it was her soul, forever intertwined with the man who had claimed it.

The final days of her pregnancy were a blur of anticipation and fear, of joy and doubt. But through it all, y/n's love remained a constant, a beacon that guided her through the storm. And as they prepared for the birth of their child, Tzuyu felt a sense of peace she had never known before. The whispers of the past had been silenced by the roar of their love, and she knew that she had found her place in the world, nestled in the arms of the man who had claimed her heart.

The contractions began with the softness of a whisper, a gentle nudging that grew into a crescendo of pain and power. Y/n was with her every step of the way, his hand in hers, his eyes never leaving her face. He encouraged her, whispered sweet nothings into her ear, his love a balm to her soul. And when she felt the overwhelming urge to push, she knew that she could do it, because she had him.

Their love was a force of nature, unstoppable and all-consuming. And as she bore down, her body a battleground for the miracle of life, she felt the warmth of his love surrounding her, lifting her up. His encouragement was a symphony in her ears, his touch a lifeline that connected her to the world outside the pain.

And then, with a final, triumphant push, their child was born. A perfect little being that looked at them with wide, wondering eyes. Y/n's face was a picture of pure joy, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears as he cut the cord that bound them all together. They had done it, they had created life from love, and nothing could ever break that bond.

The midwife placed the squalling baby on Tzuyu's chest, and she felt a rush of emotion so profound it stole her breath away. This was the culmination of their love, the ultimate proof that they were meant to be together. And as she looked into the tiny face that mirrored hers, she knew that she had never been more loved, more complete, more alive.

In that moment, with their newborn child nestled between them, their love story was rewritten. It was no longer just about the passion that had brought them together, but the love that had grown from that fire, a love that had survived betrayal, doubt, and societal judgment. It was a love that had created life, that had transcended the physical to become something sacred and unbreakable.

Y/n took her hand, his eyes never leaving hers as they watched their child nurse at her breast. The sight of her, so vulnerable and beautiful, filled him with a love that was both fierce and gentle. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin, tasting the salt of her sweat, the sweetness of her love. And when she looked up at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears, he knew that she felt it too.

Their love had been tested, but it had not wavered. It had grown stronger, a testament to their resilience and the depth of their bond. They were no longer just lovers, but partners, bound together by the life they had brought into the world. As they held each other, the whispers of doubt and fear faded away, replaced by the soft cooing of their child and the gentle beat of their hearts.

Their future was a blank canvas, a tapestry of moments yet to be woven. They had no idea what challenges lay ahead, what joys or pains would come their way. But in that moment, as they lay entwined, surrounded by the warmth of their love and the new life they had created, they were ready to face it all. For in each other's arms, they had found their home, their sanctuary, their forever.

And so, as the sun set on the first day of their new lives, Tzuyu and y/n held each other tightly, their love a beacon in the night. They whispered promises of forever, of always being there, of never letting go. And as their child slept, the symphony of their hearts played on, a melody that would carry them through every storm, every heartache, every moment of pure, unbridled joy.

For in the chaos of creation, they had found their harmony, their love a force that could conquer any challenge. They were ready to face the world as one, to show the world that love was not bound by convention or expectation, but by the simple, unshakeable truth of two souls that had found each other.

In the days that followed, Tzuyu watched y/n with new eyes, his every move a declaration of his love and dedication. He was a doting father, his rough hands gentle as he cradled their child, his eyes soft with wonder as he watched their baby grow. He was a devoted husband, his love for her a constant reassurance that she had made the right choice.

Their love had not just survived the storm; it had thrived in it. It had grown from a passionate affair into a love that was unshakeable, a bond that nothing could break. And as they faced the world together, hand in hand, they knew that they had created something beautiful, something that would last a lifetime.

The whispers of their past had been silenced, the shadows of doubt banished by the light of their love. They had come through the fire, and emerged stronger, more in love than ever before. The world had not ended with their revelation; instead, it had opened up, revealing a path they had never dared to dream of.

Tzuyu knew that she had found her place in the world, not as someone's possession, but as an equal, a partner, a mother. And as she watched y/n playing with their child, his laughter ringing through the house like a bell, she knew that she had found not just love, but a life that was truly hers. A life filled with passion, with purpose, with the promise of forever.

And as she felt the warmth of his gaze on her, as his hand found hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, she knew that she had made the right choice. For in the end, it was not about societal norms or the expectations of others; it was about the love that burned between them, a love that had created a life that was more beautiful than any garden she had ever tended. A love that was wild, untamed, and utterly, completely theirs.

Y/n looked up from her breast, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Only one baby," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "But your breasts are definitely more than enough for the both of us." He took the other in his mouth, the suction causing her to arch her back and gasp. The sensation was exquisite, a reminder of the passion that had brought them to this moment.

The baby's cries grew louder, a symphony of need that pierced the haze of their desire. Tzuyu's laughter was breathless as she reached down to stroke his hair. "You're insatiable," she whispered, her voice a caress that sent a shiver down his spine. He pulled away from her, his cock standing at attention, and stood up from the bed. "Let's go take care of our little interrupter," he said with a grin, his hand outstretched to help her up.

They moved in unison, their bodies still attuned to each other's rhythms despite the chaos of their new life. The nursery was a soft glow of moonlight, their baby's tiny face scrunched in a frown. Y/n picked her up with ease, cradling her in his arms as he began to murmur sweet nothings that had always had a way of calming her. Tzuyu watched them, her heart swelling with love, her hand absently tracing the contours of her own body, marveling at the changes that had occurred.

Her breasts were full and heavy with milk, her stomach still rounded despite the baby's birth. Her pussy, so recently ravished, was now a soft, tender bud waiting to bloom once more. And as she watched her husband with their daughter, she felt the stirrings of desire once again, the hunger that never truly left her. The sight of them together was a reminder of the love that had started it all, the love that had created this perfect little being.

With the baby latched onto his finger, y/n turned to Tzuyu, his eyes dark with want. "Let's get her back to sleep," he said, his voice low and seductive. "And then, I want to taste that sweet cunt of yours again." She felt a thrill at his words, the ache between her legs growing more insistent. She knew that despite the interruption, their love was far from over.

They rocked the baby to sleep, their movements in sync as they had become in every aspect of their lives. And when the cries finally subsided into gentle snuffles, they laid her down in her crib, their eyes never leaving hers. Then, as if on cue, they turned to each other, the tension between them palpable.

He took her hand and led her back to their bedroom, the door clicking shut with a finality that seemed to seal them in their own world once again. The bed was a rumpled mess, the evidence of their love scattered around them like confetti. He kissed her, his tongue delving into her mouth, a promise of what was to come.

Her body responded immediately, her nipples hardening, her pussy growing wet. He pulled her nightgown over her head, his hands exploring her curves with a familiarity that sent shivers down her spine. His cock was hard and insistent, pressing against her stomach, leaving a trail of pre-cum that she eagerly followed with her finger.

He groaned into her mouth as she stroked him, the sound vibrating through her. Her hand grew bolder, her grip tightening as she felt him grow even harder. And when she finally led him to her waiting entrance, she moaned, the feel of him inside her a balm to the ache she hadn't realized was there.

Their lovemaking was slow and gentle, a sweet symphony of sighs and whispers. His cock filled her completely, his movements a tender exploration of her body's new landscape. And as they moved together, the whispers of their love grew louder, drowning out the cries of their past, the fears and the doubts.

Y/n could feel her milk let down, her breasts leaking with every thrust, and he couldn't resist the temptation. He pulled away from her kiss to lean down, his mouth closing over one of her erect nipples, suckling deeply. Tzuyu arched her back, her eyes rolling back in her head at the sensation. The taste of her milk was sweet and addictive, a flavor that seemed to hold the very essence of her love.

He groaned against her skin, his hand moving to her other breast, kneading and caressing as he drank his fill. Her milk soaked the bed, mingling with their sweat, creating a scent that was uniquely theirs. And as he fucked her, the rhythm of his hips a steady beat, he felt something inside him shift. It was more than just desire, more than just the need to claim her. It was a hunger that went bone deep, a craving that only she could satisfy.

Her walls tightened around him, her orgasm building like a crescendo. He could feel the warmth of her milk on his chest, the stickiness of their love coating them both. And as she came, her body shaking with the force of her release, he knew that he had found his heaven. This was where he belonged, inside her, surrounded by the proof of their love.

Her milk flowed freely, and he lapped it up with the same fervor that he had used to kiss her mouth, her neck, her breasts. It was a declaration of his love, a claiming of her body and her soul. And as they lay together, their hearts beating in sync, their bodies entwined in a tapestry of love and need, they knew that nothing would ever come between them again.

The whispers of doubt had been silenced by the roar of their passion, the shadows of fear banished by the light of their love. They had created a world unto themselves, a sanctuary where they could be free, where they could love without limits.

And as he pulled out, his cock still hard and slick with their combined juices, he watched her body with a sense of awe. She was more beautiful than any garden, more precious than any jewel. And as he reached for her hand, their fingers interlocking, he knew that he had found his home.

Their love had grown from a secret affair into a love that could conquer any storm. And as they lay there, their hearts open and raw, they knew that they had been given a gift. A child, a love that was pure and unshakeable, and a future filled with promise.

Their bodies were still slick with passion when they finally collapsed onto the bed, their breathing ragged and their hearts pounding. Y/n wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear. They were the same words he had whispered countless times before, but now they held a new meaning, a promise of forever.

Tzuyu felt a sense of peace settle over her, a warmth that started in her chest and spread throughout her body. She knew that she had made the right choice, that she had found her soulmate in the most unexpected of places. And as she drifted off to sleep, her body sated and her heart full, she whispered the words that had become their mantra.

"I love you, y/n," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "Forever and always."

He pulled her closer, his hand cupping her still-leaking breast, his thumb stroking her nipple gently. "And I love you, Tzuyu," he replied, his voice a soft rumble in the darkness. "With every beat of my heart, with every breath I take."

They lay together, their bodies a tapestry of love and trust, their hearts beating in a duet that was theirs alone. The taste of her milk still lingered on his tongue, a sweetness that seemed to echo the purity of their love. As he drifted off to sleep, the warmth of her body against his, y/n felt a sense of contentment that washed over him like a gentle rain.

The night was a canvas of shadows, the moonlight playing across their tangled limbs like an artist's brush. Their baby slept peacefully in her crib, a testament to the love that had created her. The whispers of doubt and fear had been silenced by the roar of their passion, the shadows of the past banished by the warm glow of their future.

As they slept, their bodies entwined, their love grew stronger, the bond between them unbreakable. Tzuyu dreamed of the days ahead, of watching their child grow, of the adventures they would share as a family. Y/n's arms were a warm cocoon around her, his breath steady and comforting. In the quiet of the night, she knew that she had found her home, her heart's true north.

The next morning, the sun streamed through the windows, casting a golden hue over the bed. Tzuyu stirred, the warmth of the sun caressing her skin. She looked down to find y/n still sleeping, his hand curled around her breast, his mouth open slightly. She felt a thrill of desire, her body responding to his touch even in slumber. Carefully, she lifted his head, the pillow of her arm giving way to the softness of the mattress.

He blinked sleepily up at her, a smile playing on his lips as he took in the sight of her. "Good morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning," she replied, her voice a soft purr that made his cock twitch. "How did you sleep?"

He chuckled, his eyes dropping to her breasts. "Like a baby," he said, his voice filled with mischief. "And speaking of babies..." His hand moved to the baby monitor, pressing the button to check on their daughter. Her gentle coos filled the room, a sweet melody that brought a smile to both of their faces.

They lay there for a moment, listening to the sound of their child's breathing, their hearts swelling with love. Then, with a yawn that stretched his whole body, y/n sat up, his eyes never leaving hers. "I have to admit," he said, his voice low and husky with desire. "I've developed quite a taste for your milk."

Tzuyu felt a blush creep up her neck, her nipples hardening under his gaze. "Well," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "I suppose I'll have to keep producing it, then."

He leaned down to kiss her, his mouth lingering on hers as he reached for her breast once more. "Oh, I have every intention of making sure you do," he murmured, his eyes dark with need.

Their love had grown from a secret to a garden that bloomed in the light of day, a testament to their strength and the depth of their feelings. And as they kissed, the taste of her milk mingling with the sweetness of their love, they knew that they had found their forever.

For in that moment, there was only the two of them, their bodies joined as one, creating a new melody that resonated through every fiber of their beings. They were no longer just lovers, but parents, a bond that went beyond the physical, beyond the confines of their own desires.

Their love had been tested, but it had not just survived; it had evolved, grown into something more profound, more meaningful. And as they lay entwined, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the night, Tzuyu knew that she had found her place in the world. A place filled with love, with passion, with the promise of forever.

[cbeargyu]

Ever you think about camboy!yeonjun? 🥺

just chillin'

summary: alone on a saturday night, you stumble upon a camboy's stream by pure accident. what begins as innocent curiosity spirals into an irresistible addiction, especially when he seems to notice you among the thousands. and when he reaches out to you personally... you realize that some fantasies are too tempting to leave behind.

pairing: camboy!yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: smut, strangers to lovers, slight angst (insecurity), heavy tension, slow burn turned fast, eventual public sex (streamed), slight exhibitionism.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), camboy themes, masturbation (m and f), sexting, sextalk, blowjob, vaginal sex, multiple positions, dirty talk, slight choking, spanking, use of sex toys, praise + possessiveness, masking identities (reader wears a mask, yeonjun wears sunglasses) during public stream, emotional insecurity (reader worried about appearance), reader is implied to be inexperienced or shy, mild degradation (very soft, mostly praise kink), slight breeding kink talk, heavy mentions of viewer comments/donations.

wc: 4,6k

notes: baby, thank you so much for this amazing request, i was blushing like crazy thinking about all the ways i could handle the story, wow, not gonna lie, my favorite request ever, bae, yeonjun camboy is such a concept 😭💗

it’s saturday night, and the house is dead quiet.

your parents left earlier for some family dinner party—you had no interest in small talk with distant cousins or watching your dad argue about politics over cheap wine. your brother, predictably, is out with his girlfriend, probably halfway into some movie or already making out in his car. either way, he’s not coming home anytime soon.

you’ve got the whole house to yourself. all night.

at first, it felt nice—freedom. silence. you curled up on the couch, made popcorn, browsed netflix like it was an olympic sport. but after an hour of half-watching three different movies, nothing could hold your attention. not even the romcoms with shirtless leads.

you switched to tiktok. scrolled. scrolled more. a couple thirst traps. a couple puppies. nothing hit.

you huffed and opened your laptop, fingers drifting without purpose. maybe a gameplay stream would help pass time. something soft. chill. maybe even fall asleep to it.

you searched “streamers live now” and clicked a random site link that looked slightly sketchy.

only—it wasn’t for gaming.

the homepage was dark. black background, bright red accents. pulsing icons and neon outlines. bold letters reading “18+ only. enter responsibly.”

you blinked. hesitated. your heart kicked once in your chest.

then curiosity won.

you clicked.

the page opened with a grid of livestream thumbnails. too many skin tones. too many soft moans bleeding through overlapping audio. most thumbnails showed women—arched backs, lace underwear, fingers between thighs. the kind of content you’d only ever dared to peek at by accident.

you licked your bottom lip without realizing. eyes glued to the screen.

and then you saw him.

a stream titled “just chillin’”. the thumbnail was cropped just below the neck, showing a toned chest in a tight black tank top, arms flexed casually as he leaned back in a gamer chair. loose, light-wash jeans slung low on narrow hips, exposing a hint of red boxers.

his username: yawnzzn.

something about it made your fingers freeze.

there weren’t too many viewers inside. only a few hundred, way less than the others. maybe that was better. maybe you wouldn’t get noticed.

you clicked the stream.

your screen went black for a moment—then it loaded.

he was talking already, laughing softly, the kind of voice that scraped low and slow against your ears. the room was mostly dark, lit only by the glow of his monitor and faint neon strips behind his desk. it cast shadows across his collarbones, the slope of his shoulders.

you quickly plugged in your headphones, pulse jumping.

he leaned forward, adjusting something on the desk, and that’s when the camera caught his chin. his mouth.

his lips were plush, pink, and curved into a lazy smirk.

your whole body froze when you heard it:

“huh,” he chuckled. “who’s ‘babygrl87’?”

your username.

your dumb, randomly chosen username.

you nearly slammed your laptop shut, face burning, heart jackhammering inside your chest.

“didn’t think we had new viewers tonight.” his voice dipped lower, teasing. “you shy, babygrl?”

you didn’t answer.

his chat was wild. emojis, donations, constant messages.

“take the tank top off!” “the new girl better tip if she’s gonna stare.” “yo, yawnzzn, we want the show.”

he ignored most of them. or teased them back.

“which one should go first?” he mused aloud. “shirt or pants?”

your thighs pressed together. he wasn’t even doing anything yet, and your body was already betraying you.

then—slowly—he stood up.

his tank top hugged his body in all the right places. tight against his chest, his waist slim. he stretched, letting his arms lift overhead, showing a sliver of skin above the waistband of his jeans. the v-line below his abs? obscene.

you didn’t even realize you were holding your breath.

then he reached down, thumbs hooking into his belt loops.

“you wanna see more?” he asked, looking directly into the camera. it felt like he was looking straight at you.

“say please.”

his viewers spammed please, but you stayed quiet.

and yet—you couldn’t look away.

he unbuttoned his jeans. dragged the zipper down slow. the denim slid off his hips, falling to his ankles with a dull thud.

your breath hitched.

tight red boxers. snug. low. the bulge underneath them? impossible to ignore. thick, heavy-looking. twitching slightly under the fabric.

you pressed your thighs tighter.

he sat back down, shifting slightly, letting one leg rest wide open on either side of the chair. spread just enough to show off the outline pressing against the boxers.

“you guys are fucking filthy,” he muttered with a smirk. “but lucky for you... so am i.”

his hand dipped under the waistband.

not all the way—just enough to tease.

his fingers brushed over himself, then pulled out, gripping through the fabric, pressing against the hardness. you watched the muscles in his arm tense.

he exhaled softly. deep. like he really needed to touch himself.

you couldn’t stop staring.

his palm moved slow at first, just rubbing the base, then stroking up and down along the outside. the fabric grew darker at the tip. he was leaking already.

you bit your lip hard, your own thighs twitching.

he kept going. breathing heavier. head tilted back, exposing his throat.

“fuck, babygrl,” he groaned suddenly. your eyes widened.

did he just—

“you’re still watching, right?” he said between shallow breaths. “don’t look away. i’m doing this for you.”

he reached into his boxers, finally pulling himself out.

thick. veiny. flushed red at the tip.

he spat into his hand. started stroking—slow at first, then faster.

the slick sound of skin on skin filled your ears through the headphones.

you were hypnotized.

his moans were low and filthy, hips shifting as he fucked into his hand. his tank top bunched up higher on his chest, exposing his abs, the muscles in his thighs tensing as he got closer.

his eyes were heavy-lidded now, lips parted.

“wish i had you here,” he muttered. “wish i could see you... touching yourself too.”

you were. not even sure when your hand slipped under your shorts. but it was there now. fingers rubbing, too fast, too needy.

he got louder.

he leaned forward, panting, fisting himself hard.

“you want it?” he growled. “want me to come for you?”

you gasped. the tension snapped.

you came first.

trembling, breath caught, hand soaked.

he moaned—loud, raw—and came a second after. cum spilling over his knuckles, streaking his abs. he didn’t stop stroking until every last drop was out, breathing like he’d run a mile.

for a second, it was quiet.

only his ragged breath. and yours.

then he talked to the camera again.

“thanks for watching, babygrl.”

you slammed your laptop shut.

you never meant to stay.

at first, it was just curiosity—an accident on a saturday night, when the house was too empty and the silence wrapped too tightly around your neck. you stumbled into his stream, yawnzzn, because it was late, and you were bored, and the thumbnail showed more skin than anything you were brave enough to click before.

you should’ve closed the window. you should’ve gotten up, made tea, gone to bed.

but you didn’t.

you stayed. wide-eyed and still, staring at the boy who leaned back lazily in his gamer chair, the room bathed in the low glow of his monitor, his body relaxed, his fingers moving with casual, devastating confidence over himself.

you didn’t even know his name.

all you had was a username. a voice. a body that looked carved by hands more careful than god’s. long fingers. full pink lips. shoulders wide enough to carry the whole damn world.

you never commented. not once.

you just watched.

he noticed, somehow.

your username would blink into the list of viewers and he’d smile, low and wicked.

“looks like babygrl87’s here,” he’d tease once in a while.

the chat would explode with laughter.

"silent watcher’s back." "she's loyal but shy." "say something, girl!"

but you never did.

you stayed hidden, frozen, cheeks burning, fingers trembling at the sight of him.

and he kept performing for you anyway.

stroking himself slow in the shadows, spreading his legs wide so you could see everything, moaning under his breath, letting his pleasure spill into the microphone until it felt like he was touching you through the screen.

sometimes he'd say things like—

"bet she's watching real close..." "wish she'd tell me what she likes..." "i'll just have to guess, baby."

every time he said "baby," something deep inside you twisted.

you touched yourself to him more times than you could count. memorized every shift of his hips, every flex of his thighs, every low curse that spilled from his throat. his face stayed mostly hidden—just his mouth, his jaw, the curve of his nose—but it didn’t matter.

he had you wrapped around his finger without ever seeing his whole face.

until tonight.

the notification buzzed on your phone and you didn’t hesitate. you flung your laptop open and clicked into his stream before your fingers could even register it.

live now: yawnzzn — "friday chill."

it was late. almost midnight. but it was friday, and you could stay up all you wanted.

the stream loaded—and immediately your breath caught.

yeonjun was different tonight.

he wore a black hoodie, the hood pulled up to shadow most of his face. only the sharp line of his jaw, the tempting curve of his lips, and the glint of an earring peeked out.

his posture was lazier than usual, sprawled low in his chair, legs spread wide.

and—

only two viewers.

just you. and someone who quickly left.

you were alone with him.

your heart pounded so loud you barely heard him speak at first.

“well, look who it is.” he smiled, a little softer this time. “thought you’d come."

you swallowed hard.

he leaned closer to the camera, tapping his fingers on the desk.

“guess it’s just you and me tonight, babygrl.”

your hands shook.

for the first time, you typed something.

hi.

the word looked tiny in the chatbox. pitiful. but yeonjun froze when he saw it.

his mouth parted.

then—

he laughed.

god, the sound was warm. real. his whole body tilted a little, like he couldn’t believe it.

“no way,” he said, eyes shining. “you’re real. you actually talk.”

you bit your lip so hard it hurt.

he grinned wider, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for a second. he looked—happy. excited. like you just made his whole night.

"fuck, i should do something special for you," he mused. "loyal watcher deserves a reward."

you hesitated. then, shaky fingers flying across the keys, you typed:

can i see your face?

for a second, the world stopped.

he leaned back, tapping his chin, pretending to think. then he smirked, eyes glinting under the hood.

"only because it’s you," he said, voice low. "only because you’ve been good."

he reached up, gripping the hood—and slowly pushed it back.

you forgot how to breathe.

he was beautiful.

no. beyond beautiful.

his face was unfair.

sharp, slanted cat-like eyes, framed by thick lashes, glinting dark and dangerous under the soft light. a high nose bridge, cheekbones cut clean enough to bleed on. his mouth, god, that sinful mouth—full and pink, curled into a smirk that promised ruin.

he was the kind of beautiful that wasn’t supposed to be real.

the kind that hurt to look at.

your stomach flipped violently. your whole body flushed hot.

he tilted his head, messy dark hair falling into his eyes, and smiled.

"what do you think, baby?" he teased. "worth the wait?"

you couldn’t even type.

he chuckled, low and raspy.

“i’ll take that silence as a yes.”

he leaned in closer, so close the camera almost fogged.

"don’t disappear on me now," he whispered. "you’re mine tonight."

and you knew—deep in your bones—you’d never escape him.

not now.

not ever.

you should’ve closed the laptop.

you should’ve logged off the moment he smiled at you like that—dangerous and sweet, like he already knew what you tasted like.

but you stayed. frozen in your seat, trembling, helpless.

yeonjun leaned back, dragging his palm down his chest, over his stomach, slow enough to make you whimper.

"you know," he said, voice dropping, "i've been saving something… just for you."

he reached under the desk and pulled out something unexpected—not just a toy, but a miniature torso made of soft, rosy pink silicone, barely the size of his hands.

it was shaped like a woman’s lower half, smooth thighs tapering into the curve of hips, and right between them, the detailed, glistening folds of a pussy. obscene. delicate.

lewd in a way that made your stomach twist. the soft rubber glinted under the light as he turned it in his hand, spreading lube over it like he was preparing you instead.

a thick stream of it spilled out—over his hand, over the soft pink opening of the toy, dripping lewdly.

your breath caught.

he grinned lazily at your silence, clearly enjoying the way you were glued to the screen.

"thought about using it a couple times," he murmured. "but it didn’t feel right without you here."

your thighs pressed together, trying uselessly to ease the heavy, aching heat between them.

your mouth went dry.

he groaned under his breath, squeezing some over his own cock. it was already hard, thick and flushed red at the tip, veiny and heavy between his thighs.

your whole body clenched at the sight of it.

yeonjun caught the way you froze.

he chuckled, low and warm.

"you like watching, don’t you?" he teased, voice velvet-soft. "such a dirty little thing, just sitting there all quiet for me."

you couldn’t even type back. your hands were gripping the edge of the desk, knuckles white.

he slicked himself up slowly, deliberately, hissing as his fingers wrapped around the base.

then he grabbed the toy.

"gonna pretend it’s you," he said, smiling in that way that made your head spin. "gonna fuck you so good, baby."

he eased the tip of his cock into the toy, slow, teasing.

the lube made everything shine under the dim light, making it look so wet, so messy.

a broken moan left his mouth as he pushed deeper.

"fuck..." he whispered, hips twitching. "you'd feel so fucking good around me."

he started moving, thrusting lazily into the toy, one hand gripping it tight, the other braced against his thigh. his head dropped back, lashes fluttering, mouth parting on soft, desperate sounds.

your name fell from his lips like a prayer.

"babygrl," he moaned, hips stuttering. "wish you were here... wish you’d let me hear you."

you pressed your thighs together harder, trembling, burning with need.

he moved faster now, fucking the toy like it was real—like it was you.

the wet sounds were filthy. obscene. echoing through your headphones like he was right there in the room with you.

"bet you’d be so tight," he panted, thrusting harder. "all hot and wet for me… fuck, i’d ruin you."

he gripped the toy tighter, biting down on a groan.

you watched every second—hypnotized, devastated.

watched his hips buck, watched the muscles in his arms flex, watched the way his stomach tensed up when he got close.

he didn’t look away from the camera once.

he fucked that toy like he was making love to you.

slow, deep, passionate.

like you were the only thing he ever wanted.

your chest heaved with every breath, nipples aching, panties soaked beyond salvation.

and when he finally shuddered, spilling hot and thick into the toy, moaning your username again in that wrecked, desperate voice—

you knew you were already ruined.

he slumped back in his chair, panting, hair a mess, lips swollen and wet from how hard he’d been biting them.

and then—

he smiled at you. soft. sweet. devastating.

"thanks for staying with me, baby," he whispered.

the screen went dark a few seconds later, leaving you staring at your own reflection, wrecked and trembling.

alone.

but never lonely again.

you hadn’t gone back.

not because you didn’t want to.

god—you did. more than anything.

but it was too much now.

something had shifted in you after that night. after watching him fuck that toy like it was yours—moaning your username like it was sacred, like he needed you to breathe.

you couldn't stop thinking about it.

the way his hand moved. the way his voice cracked when he came. the way he smiled right before the screen went black.

he ruined you, and he didn’t even know it.

you tried to forget him. muted the notifications. ignored the replays. avoided even opening the app, like a coward. like a girl who couldn’t trust herself not to break down and need again.

because now when you thought about him, it wasn’t just lust—it was hunger.

two weeks passed.

you didn’t watch a single live.

but you did think about him. in the shower. in your bed. in the quiet moments when no one was around. and every time, you pressed your thighs together and tried to chase the ghost of his voice in your head.

you thought you were safe. that this distance would protect you.

until the dm.

at first, you didn’t believe it. you were half-asleep, phone in hand, thumb swiping lazily through random memes—until the little red dot appeared in your inbox.

no one ever messaged you. even though you were kind of known in his chat, everyone respected the line. no dms. no creepiness. everything stayed inside the stream.

but this—this was different.

you opened it slowly, heart thudding.

yawnzzn [11:32 PM]: been kinda sad u haven’t joined the lives lately :( miss seeing ur name pop up every night.

your heart stopped.

it was him.

he messaged you first.

and now everything inside you was heat and panic and that same damn ache he always left behind.

you stared at the screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, your whole body on fire from just one line.

he missed you.

he noticed you.

and worst of all—he cared.

you stared at the screen for what felt like an hour.

your thumb hovered over the keyboard, mind racing, heart hammering. he’d messaged you. yeonjun—yawnzzn. the boy you’d been secretly watching for months, who moaned your username like a lover, who made you cum more times than you could admit.

and now he was in your inbox. waiting.

you breathed in, deep and shaky. then finally, you typed. slowly. carefully.

you [11:46 PM]: i’m sorry i disappeared… i’ve just been feeling a little overwhelmed lately.

your chest felt tight when you hit send.

you almost didn’t expect him to answer right away—but less than a minute later, the typing bubble popped up.

yawnzzn [11:47 PM]: overwhelmed? like… because of me?

your face burned.

fuck.

you should’ve lied.

but maybe it was the way he asked it—gentle, teasing, soft.

you hesitated for a second, then typed again. a little braver.

you [11:49 PM]: yeah. i think watching you became… a little too much for me.

you hit send before you could regret it.

then added one more line.

you [11:49 PM]: you make me feel things i don’t know how to deal with.

there was a long pause.

long enough to make your stomach twist. long enough for you to want to unsend everything and run.

but then:

yawnzzn [11:53 PM]: …fuck. that’s probably the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.

your breath hitched.

yawnzzn [11:54 PM]: i thought maybe i was imagining it. the way you looked at me. how you never talked but always stayed until the end. i always felt like… you were watching differently.

you swallowed hard, heart in your throat.

yawnzzn [11:54 PM]: can i ask what it is exactly i make you feel?

his words lingered on your screen, sweet and dangerous.

you could lie.

or you could tell the truth, even if it made your skin burn and your thighs clench and your whole body betray you.

you told him.

typed it all out, trembling fingers and flushed skin—how much he turned you on. how just watching him made you ache. how you’d touched yourself to the sound of his voice so many times it scared you.

he didn’t tease you.

he just replied:

yawnzzn [12:02 AM]: you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to hear that from you.

the next night, he asked if he could call you. just for a second. just to hear your voice.

you hesitated. but then said yes.

the screen lit up with his face—hoodie on, smile soft, and it was dark in his room.

you couldn’t show your face right away.

your camera stayed off while you whispered hello.

you expected him to sound different. more confident. more teasing.

but he didn’t.

he sounded gentle. nervous. warm.

“can i see you?” he asked softly. “just a glimpse?”

your heart pounded as you turned your camera on. you were in a hoodie. no makeup. hair a mess. you hated the way your stomach twisted.

but he smiled.

really smiled.

“wow,” he whispered. “you’re… so much prettier than anything i ever imagined.”

you only lasted five minutes before you panicked and hung up, stammering out an apology.

he didn’t push you.

he just texted:

yawnzzn [12:28 AM]: you looked beautiful. thank you for letting me see you.

the days after that were soft. messy. hot.

late-night texting turned into slow, sticky sexting.

he’d ask if you were touching yourself. you’d ask what he was wearing. sometimes, he’d send you voice notes, low and breathy, moaning your username until you were whimpering into your pillow.

eventually, he asked to see you again. in person this time.

you said yes.

but something about it scared you—the way your heart twisted at the idea of being real to him. what if you weren’t enough?

and then, the idea.

he texted you in the middle of the night:

yawnzzn [1:03 AM]: what if we did a stream together? i could blur your face. or you could wear a mask. sunglasses. anything. i just want them to see that i’m finally fucking the one person i actually wanted.

your heart stopped.

you said no, at first. embarrassed. shy. it felt too raw, too exposing.

but that night, in the dark, with your hand between your thighs and his voice playing in your head, you imagined it.

imagined being on his lap. riding him in front of the same camera that once made you weak. imagined hearing him moan your name into your neck while the whole world watched.

you texted him at 2:11 AM.

you [2:11 AM]: i’ll do it. but only if i wear a mask.

his room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of his monitor and a red led strip that cast everything in that deep, sinful color. your silhouette, perched on your knees between his thighs, looked unreal—masked, trembling, mouth parted in anticipation. he was already hard, the thick outline of his cock pressing against his grey sweats, and the stream had barely started.

yeonjun leaned back in his chair, lazy smirk on his lips as he brushed a thumb across your cheekbone.

“they’ve been begging for this,” he murmured low, his mic catching every syllable. “but they don’t get you. i do.”

your fingers tugged at the waistband of his sweats, dragging them down with teasing slowness. the chat was explodingalready—hearts, donation pings, horny messages flying too fast to read.

his cock sprang free, hard and flushed and leaking, and you didn’t waste time—your lips wrapped around the head while he hissed through clenched teeth.

“fuck—yes, baby. just like that,” he moaned, voice rough and trembling.

you bobbed your head slowly at first, tongue circling the tip, making sure to be loud about it—each wet suck and messy slurp caught by the mic, echoing through the stream like the soundtrack to a dream. he groaned and held your hair back, letting everyone see the way your lips stretched around his cock, eyes glossy behind the lace mask.

“look at her,” he murmured, gaze flicking to the camera. “taking it so good, like a perfect little slut. you’re so fucking pretty like this, baby.”

you moaned around him, the vibration making his thighs twitch. spit dripped down your chin as you took him deeper, and he let out a breathless chuckle.

“they wish they were me,” he said, licking his lips. “but only i get to feel this mouth. only i get to fuck it raw.”

you choked a little when he gently thrust into your throat, but you didn’t stop—you loved it. you loved knowing thousands were watching you drool and gag around him, craving something they could never have.

he pulled you up by your arms, lips crashing onto yours in a messy kiss. his cock was wet between your bodies, twitching, desperate.

“get on my lap,” he growled, voice thick with need.

you straddled him, one hand guiding him to your entrance as you slowly, so slowly, sank down.

the stretch was unreal, every inch of him filling you up, and you both moaned into each other’s mouths.

“oh my god,” you gasped, hips rolling instinctively.

he grunted. “fuck, baby… fuck, you’re tight—been dreaming about this cunt since the first time i saw your name in my chat.”

your hands clung to his shoulders, bouncing gently on his cock as he held your waist and thrust up, hard and deep.

“yeah? you like showing them what they can’t touch?” he panted. “you like knowing they’re all jerking off to you being mine?”

you nodded, dazed, flushed all over.

“say it,” he growled, slapping your ass.

“i’m yours,” you whimpered. “all yours, yeonjun…”

“that’s fucking right.”

he adjusted the camera angle, making sure it caught your pussy swallowing his cock over and over as you rode him in a rhythm that made your thighs shake.

“fuck, baby, i can see how wet you are,” he groaned. “dripping down my balls—look at this mess. they’re fucking jealous, huh?”

you moaned loud, thighs burning, your mask slipping slightly but you didn’t care—you were too far gone.

he dragged you up, twisted your body so your back was against his chest, legs spread wide as he pistoned up into you.

your head dropped back onto his shoulder, a string of helpless cries leaving your lips.

he reached down, thumb circling your clit fast and tight.

“you gonna cum like this?” he panted in your ear. “with all of them watching? gonna cream on my cock while the world sees who really owns this little pussy?”

your body jerked, climax rushing over you in a tidal wave of heat and noise, clenching hard around him as he grunted and chased his own.

then he flipped you over onto the desk, bending you forward, ass up for the camera.

“still not done,” he murmured, slipping back in. “they’re gonna watch me fill you up.”

he fucked you hard, fast, raw. each thrust loud and wet, your body shaking, hands gripping the edge of the desk.

“so tight, baby—gonna cum so deep—gonna knock you the fuck up on stream, yeah?”

“yes, yes, please—cum in me, yeonjun—fuck, i want it—”

he groaned, shuddering, cock pulsing deep inside as he came, buried to the hilt.

and right before he reached over to end the stream, he leaned in, kissing your masked cheek.

“mine,” he whispered.

then the screen went black.

but your moans still echoed in the dark.

[anundyingfidelity]

FREE PASS — Sam Winchester

Summary: Two men appear at your office to inspect a body from a lady who died under mysterious conditions. As a forensic, you are not letting strangers inside the morgue, but one of them is going too far to get your permission.

Pairing: Undercover!Sam Winchester x female reader.

Word count: 1.6k.

Warnings: smut, office sex, against the wall sex lol, sexual tension, p in v, unprotected sex, the dirty stuff, Dean being a dick (i love him he's a jerk).

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

“I said no.”

“If you could just give a call to our boss he’ll–”

“Sorry, I need proper documentation so you can check that up,” you repeated yourself for the tenth time as you took some piles of documents from your desk to save them into the archive.

Dean, undercover along with Sam for this new case, sighed, trying not to lose it right there. You were so insistent on getting those damn documents signed before they could inspect the dead woman’s body, who got reported as having all her blood drained with no trace. Why wasn’t this working? They’ve done it hundreds of times already, and not even his personal charms were enough to let them get inside.

“So, my partner and I really need to see this. We know there’s another woman that died, same conditions, in less than twenty-four hours after this one was found,” Sam intervened and interrupted Dean’s thoughts.

You looked surprised as to why they knew about the other body as well.

“I don’t recall mentioning the next one they’re bringing in for an autopsy,” you replied, eyes falling on Sam as you crossed your arms on your chest.

Dean observed your gaze attentively falling on his brother, your demeanor seemed to change abruptly every time Sam talked. Even your voice sounded different.

“How do you know that?” you asked, ignoring Dean’s presence.

“We know because we’re authority,” Sam sternly said.

“Well, I am the authority here. So you can either leave or bring the document from your boss.”

“Of course, doctor,” Dean interrupted your stare contest, smiling as best as he could given the irritating feeling you just caused him. “We’re bringing that up soon, thank you for your time.”

With that, both of them left your office.

“Damn, she was annoying,” Dean said, saving up his badge on his jacket.

“Yeah, but I think I have an idea,” Sam agreed as they made their way to the car.

“So what? You’re gonna sleep with her until she agrees?” Dean chuckled, but when he noticed Sam’s eyes illuminating, he stopped grinning. “Oh…”

Sam went back to the morgue late at night. He hoped you were gone to inspect the bodies and get the reports, meanwhile Dean stayed back at the motel room to do some more research.

‘She’s a bitch’ Dean had said before his brother left, you really had hurted the charm in him. Sam found it kind of funny, though. Dean was so used to ladies swooning for him, and there were a couple of times those cheesy lines and non-chalant flirting had worked in tough times like this, but you weren’t buying it. So sneaking in was by far the best option he had.

Before starting the inspection on the bodies and making sure there was no one at the place, Sam made his way to your office to check on the autopsy files. The lights were still on but it was empty. He searched the last files, skimming and scanning information before taking pictures with his phone. He was almost done, saving them up in place when the door opened.

“Agent?”

God, he was so screwed.

Sam finished closing the drawer and turned back to get a look at you, standing at the door frame clearly mad at him.

“I hope you have the document I clearly asked for earlier today.”

“Uhm, this is very-”

“There’s nothing funny going on here, agent Harrison. Is that your real name anyway?” you asked as you approached him, until you were just mere inches away from each other.

He smiled as best as he could, ignoring your last question. Dean was right, you were a bitch. A bold one.

“You don’t understand, doctor. We can’t keep waiting for a piece of paper to make an inspection,” Sam replied as politely as he could.

“Probably, but it is protocol. I ain’t letting that slip away and risk my job just because two assholes are trying to hit on me to get access to the morgue.”

“We’re risking getting more people killed under this same pattern. Tell me, do you even care about them dying? We need to do something now, doctor, before it’s too late,” Sam started to raise his voice, but not to the point where he could sound angry. He was just being authoritative, exactly like you were with both of them before.

You flinched slightly when he raised his voice. He has started to think of the way you would react differently with him than with Dean. You clearly didn’t like his brother, but Sam was another story. Dean had obviously noticed that, and now Sam was seeing it too. Whatever you were feeling right now, could be cut by a sharp knife. Dean’s not so subtle idea was suddenly good, not that he didn’t think you were hot being all bossy and bitchy with them. He decided to give it a try.

Sam pulled you quickly for a desperate kiss. He swallowed a sweet moan of yours against his mouth, and towered you with his broad figure until you stepped back and you hit the cold wall behind you.

“What are you doing?” you asked between breaths when the kiss was over.

“Convincing you.”

He waited for an answer, but he got everything he needed to continue when you began to take off his jacket desperately, as if anyone could catch you inside the office in the middle of the night. Sam attacked your lips again, the kiss growing hot and wet as both explored your bodies, tracing patterns over your clothes you both were desiring to get rid of.

Sam barely could get your blouse unbuttoned and discharged your trousers after his shirt was gone. Your hand stroking his cock under his pants after unbuckling them, his lips sucking on the skin of your neck and long fingers finding your wet slit over your panties. You moaned, feeling one of his digits curling inside your walls, his breath hitching once your palm stroked him faster. You pulled him for a kiss, tangling your free hand on his long, soft hair as he grunted against your mouth. Both tasting each other’s sweet noises and savoring the heat building up in between.

He lifted you, your legs around his waist, feeling his hard cock pressing against your cunt. He just pulled your panties aside, bare chest pressing against your own still covered by your bra. He lined up with your entrance and you gasped, feeling the tip of his cock splitting you. He became so eager, so needy, he didn’t give a shit to undress you properly, he got what he needed between your legs. You looked so hot like this, squirming and moaning as he filled you up completely.

“God, you’re so big- oh, fuck!” you breathed out.

Sam grinned. “So fucking tight… And cockdrunk already.”

He slammed his hips and quickly found the perfect pace to fuck you right through it.

He held you tightly against the wall, your pussy taking him so perfectly he would just cum right there. The quietness of the office dissipated. Moans, grunts and the obscene noises of skin against skin filled the place. Your hand buried on his scalp, pulling his hair just a little, feeling embarrassedly close to your orgasm. You couldn’t help yourself. Ever since the moment they walked in, he caught your attention, and you spent the whole afternoon daydreaming of a good fuck either way.

Sam pounded harshly, hips stuttering and giving harsh thrusts as he felt his climax building up, his cock twitching when your walls began to spasm around his length, fucking you over and over, until he spilled inside you. Soon, you followed and came hard as his finger rubbed your clit slowly. You pulled his hair harshly once you reached heaven, and he nipped your neck, grunting on your skin. You milked him completely until his thrusts were slower, and eventually stopped, still buried balls deep inside your pussy, pulsing and sensitive from the best orgasm you had in a very long time.

You remained there, legs tangled around his waist as you softened on his arms. His hot cum dripped down your thighs, and you wanted nothing more than to stay there forever.

When Sam cooled down from his high, he pulled out and helped you remain on your feet, your legs were still wobbly and he took some pride in your state. You shared an accomplice stare, and you knew you got yourself into some trouble.

“So… you still need my reports and check the bodies, right?”

Sam slammed an envelope on the table with a thud. Dean, looking away from the laptop, noticed a proud smirk on his brother’s face.

“Really? You banged the forensic?” he asked with a teasing voice and laughed. “Wow.”

“What?” Sam said, getting annoyed by his childish behavior.

“I knew she was eye-fucking you since we entered that office. Guess I wasn’t her type,” Dean got on his feet, taking the envelope. “Anyway, that is a pretty reasonable answer as to why she was acting so hostile with me, specifically. Good job, Sammy.”

Dean patted Sam’s shoulder proudly, like a father congratulating his son for winning a high school baseball game, and then walked away to lie on his bed, taking out the copy of the reports.

Sam would’ve liked for Dean to actually ask questions about the case, instead he spent the next hour or so teasing him for fucking his way to get access to a morgue. He took out his phone when a text came, ignoring Dean’s disgusting question of how sex was.

We have a new one. What the hell is going on?

He might have found a new ally on you for this.

Sam Winchester taglist:

@onlyangel-444 @feyresqueen @drasticemotions @stoneyggirl2 @whothefvckami

[yeonzzzn]

🍀no limits: park jongseong

part one of the no limits duology / the limits series

pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 17.5k

synopsis: jay was finally able to open up his restaurant and it being more successful than he could have hoped. You decided to try the new restaurant everyone kept talking about, falling in love with it immediately and even crushing on its owner. You become a regular and get to know jay quickly. as jay becomes bold and finally asks you on a date and brings you back home with him, he fails to tell you he shares the space with his sister, three best friends and his five month old niece…

genre: strangers to lovers, uncle!jay, smut

warnings: swearing, alcohol, overprotective jay, multiple unprotective sex scenes, dom!jay, breeding kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral (m. + f. receiving), cum eating, hair pulling, aftercare, semi public sex in a dark corner of a club, MINORS DNI, lemme know if i missed anything <3

✰ this is a spin-off to the main series, please read parts one-three before reading this one. they are tagged under the title ✰

•·.·no limits spotify playlist'·.·•

Jay rubbed his hands together, “Okay everyone, are you ready?”

“Jesus man!” Heeseung snapped, using his hand to fan his face from the summer heat, “Just hurry up, it’s just us no need to be so nervous.”

“That’s what I am saying,” Sunghoon agrees, also fanning his face, “Too damn hot outside.”

Jay knew he had zero reason to be nervous, but how could he not? He was fixing to share one of his biggest achievements (besides ya know, graduating college with not just his computer science degree but also his culinary and business degrees) with his friends, his family, what is not scary about that?

“Jongseong, my sweet son,” his mother said, rocking his niece on her hips, “We are excited to share this moment with you, it’s all okay.”

Jay relaxed at his mother’s words until his sister opened her mouth.

“Jay, just hurry the hell up,” she rolled her eyes, “I am sweating. I can feel it rolling down my back.”

Jay narrowed his eyes at her, “Stinks, no one asked for that gross detail.”

Before she could say anymore, Jake wrapped his arms around her from behind, “Baby, he’s nervous let him take his time.”

Thank you, Jake, finally, someone gets it.

“Dad, want to help me with the sign?” Jay asked, finally deciding to get it over it.

He nodded, going to the other side of the door, holding the string that led to the banner that was covering up the sign to his restaurant, “On three?”

Jay nodded, his hands shaking as he held the other string, “One…”

“Two,” his father smiled.

“Three,” Jay said finally, both the strings being pulled and the banner falling to the ground.

His eyes quickly dart to his family and friends, their eyes widening and smiles growing wide.

His sister and Jake covered their mouths quickly, tears filling their eyes, “You named it Hwa Young…” his sister softly said.

Jay nodded, wiping his sweaty hands against his jeans, “Yeah, I named it after Hwa…” Jay’s voice trembled, “Was just going to name it Beautiful Little Flower, but thought her actual name would be more meaningful.”

Jay adored his niece just as much, or even a bit more, as he adored his little sister, the two of them being the most important women in his life along with his mother. Using his niece's name for his restaurant was too perfect to pass up.

“Brother,” Jake said, walking over to him, reaching his hand out for Jay to take it, and he did, “I can’t believe you did this man.”

Jay pulled his best friend into a hug, rocking each other back and forth, “It’s all for my family.”

Jay could finally say he’s gotten used to calling Jake his brother-in-law, even if he and his sister weren’t married yet, it kinda felt nice to call Jake his brother officially.

“Jongseong,” his sister cried, practically yanking her fiancé out of the way and hugging him herself, “I love you so much, big brother.”

Jay now felt his own tears swelling in his eyes, “I love you too, Stinks.”

One by one the rest of his family hugged him, giving him all the congrats he could ask for. Jay fully and truly felt the happiest in this moment.

Hwa cooed and reached her arms out for him.

Never mind, this was the happiest moment he could ever ask for.

Jay retrieved Hwa from his mother, hugging her tightly to his chest and planting kisses all over her face, causing her baby giggles to fill his ears.

“Show us inside now???” Sunghoon asked, anxiously waiting to see how it looked and honestly wanting to get out of the heat.

“What Sunghoon said!” Heeseung joined in, “Unlock the doors!”

He rolled his eyes, “God, you lot are so annoying.”

Jay took the keys from his pocket and officially opened the door for the first time since the restaurant was finished.

“I welcome you all,” Jay said with a smirk, his nerves finally disappearing, “To Hwa Young, the best cafe restaurant of food from all over the world all in one place.”

The smiles from his friends and family helped boost his ego, knowing damn well they already loved his cooking and knowing they were all fixing to love it even more.

—

You didn’t think the line to the new restaurant in town was going to be, quite literally, wrapped around the building. The whole parking lot was completely filled with everyone and their mommas here in line. 

You should have expected this though, the restaurant has only been open for about a month and the news on it has been crazy. It’s made almost every food article with five-star ratings. No wonder this place hasn’t slowed down at all. 

The line was slowly moving and you were so close to the door you could already taste the food you wanted to order. Shifting your weight back and forth on your feet you didn’t think your stomach would last much longer until a line of people left the restaurant doors, and the line you were in moved faster. 

Thank fucking christ. 

Soon enough you made it past the doors, the cool air condition sending shivers down your spine in pure bliss from getting out of the summer heat. You took the time to glance around the restaurant. It was a beautiful blue-green cafe-style feel with the fancy life of a normal restaurant. Whoever the owner is, he knows what he is doing. Making this place feel so warm and welcoming and at the same time is fancy and professional. He had big brains, for real. 

Your eyes now darted to each waiter and waitress, seeing a flash of long red hair shoot across from the kitchen to a table, tray of food in hand. Your best friend. 

Yunjin gave her customers big smiles and told them to enjoy their meal, her eyes lifting to see you and another big smile on her face, making her way towards you. 

“YNNIIEEE!!!” She set the empty tray on an empty table and quickly pulled you into a hug, “I am happy you finally made it here!!!” 

You hugged her back, squeezing her tightly and rocking her back and forth, “I waited in line for like an hour.” 

She quickly pulls back, folding her hands at your shoulders, “Really?!” 

You nod, giving a small smile. 

Yunjin quickly glances around the restaurant, “There aren’t any empty tables in my section,” she glances off to the right side of the building, “You’ll have to sit over there.” 

You pouted but accepted it anyway. You came here specifically to see your friend and to get served by her. Well, you wanted to see this place too. Yunjin has hyped up this restaurant and her boss for the entire time she’s worked here. Plus again this place has been given five-star reviews, probably ten if it were allowed. 

“There’s still plenty more time for me to come see you,” you comforted her, resting your hands now on her shoulders, “But I am starving sooooo.”

She giggles and leads you to the table, “You’ll be well taken care of here, I promise you.” She gave a wink before rushing back off to her section of the restaurant. 

You twisted your fingers in your hands, glancing between every other waiter and waitress, curious as to who would be the one to serve you. 

Yunjin quickly made her way to the kitchen, double-checking the tickets on the rack and glancing at the trays of food. Her eyes glanced up to finally find who she originally came back here to look for. 

“Jay!” 

Jay kept his eyes locked on the order slip in his right hand, glancing back and forth between the tray in his hand and the piece of paper to make sure everything was there, “What’s up?” he finally answered her. 

Yunjin slides to his side, glancing up at him with a smile, “My best friend is here, the one I’ve told you about?” 

Jay starts walking away, “Congratulations. Let me know how she likes it here, and have her give us a review.” 

Yunjin pouted but followed quickly after him, “She’s not in my section.” 

Jay set the tray down on the counter, placing a few utensils onto the plates and double-checking once again that everything was in order, “Take her order anyway.” 

Before Jay could pick up the tray again, Yunjin was slipping it into her hands, Jay glared at her, “She’s in your section. I want her to get the best experience here. You’re as best as it will get.” 

Jay already had other customers to make sure and keep up with, along with keeping up with the kitchen and all his employees. Plus Yunjin was more than capable of bouncing back and forth between sections. Yet Yunjin winked at him and ran out with his tray. 

Jay followed quickly behind her, “Give it back.” 

“Nope,” she sang, pointing a finger across the restaurant, “She’s right there. Show her how good this place is.” 

Jay rolled his eyes and pulled his notepad, silently cursing to himself that he needed to invest in tablets to take orders, “Maybe I need to offer her your job too while I am at it.” 

Yunjin gave him a wink, “No you won’t,” and she walked away. 

Jay sighs, walking over to the table Yunjin pointed at. Reaching his hand into his pocket to pull out his pen and write down the table number. Putting on his boss/customer service mask. 

“Hello! Welcome to Hwa Young, I’m…” 

Jay lost every ounce of thought process when you looked up at him. Your beautiful eye color shines so brightly under the sunlight coming in from the windows. Your smile sends him into cardiac arrest. He just stares at you, taking in every inch of your beauty. You’re friends with Yunjin? This beautiful human being sitting in front of him was friends with his Yunjin? 

You stared back at him, taking in his pretty brown eyes and the way his blonde hair was slicked back, the dark of his natural hair slowly peeking through his skin. Small strands of his hair fell into his face, complimenting his tan skin even more. 

Jay blinked a couple of times, and looked down at his notepad, “Welcome to Hwa Young, I am Jay, the owner of this restaurant and I’ll be taking care of you today.” 

The…OWNER?!? Yunjin put you in the owner's section?!?! You already knew your face was blushing at the beautiful man before you. Already knew your best friend was standing off into the distance with a smirk on her face. 

You kept repeating to yourself to look away from him, to look back at the menu and tell him what you wanted. But you couldn’t look away from him, just like he kept staring back at you. 

Jay didn’t know what came over him and why he was so speechless. He’s been with pretty girls before, slept with plenty of them, and has served just as many in his restaurant. But what’s so different about you? Everything was telling him to sit across from you in this booth. But he had a job to do, and other tables to take care of. 

He blinked a couple of times and shook himself out of his daze, “New here?” 

His words brought you back to reality, forcing you to finally look at the menu, “Yes, first time actually. My best friend works here.” 

“Yunjin? Yeah, she told me you were here. She talks about you a lot actually.” 

You looked back at him for a split second and then whipped your head around to find your friend, seeing her peeking her head around the corner of the kitchen door, “Sounds like something she’d do.” 

Jay chuckles, his nerves finally settling down, “It is. She’s great though. Very hard working and one of the best waitresses I have.” 

You smiled at him at the praises he gave your best friend, feeling more relaxed, “Okay Mr. Bossman,” you teased, “What is the best thing here?” 

Jay smiles, “Everything,” you roll your eyes at his cockiness, but know he fully means it. The man was running a five-star restaurant that was a month old. He knows what he’s doing, “How about I surprise you with something?” He asked, leaning his hands on the table, “Sound good?” 

You nodded, but then quickly shook your head, “How much will it be?” You completely forget you paid your rent this morning, coming here with a mission to try the cheapest thing. 

But Jay just kept his smile wide, “It’ll be on the house. Can’t have a pretty girl who is best friends with Yunjin pay for her first visit, can we?” He gave you a wink, “Don’t worry about a thing, YN,” and he slowly backed away, keeping his eyes on you until he turned around and walked to the kitchen. The flash of red hair ran in after him. 

It surprised you that he knew your name, but then you remembered Yunjin ran her mouth about you. Making you now wonder what all Jay knew about you. 

Once Jay was in the safe space of the kitchen, he leaned onto the countertop, placing his hand on his chest and pulling the fabric of his black dress shirt between his fingers. 

“Sooooo,” Yunjin sang standing in front of him and tilting her head, “How did it go?”

Jay gave her a death glare, “What are you pulling here?” 

Yunjin gave him a look of confusion, holding her hands up, “Me? Planning something?” 

Jay hardened his glare. 

Yunjin sighs, resting her arms back down to her side, “I really am not planning anything. I just want my friend to have a good experience here.” Jay stared at her more, “Okay!! Fine! I was totally hoping you’d fall head over heels for her and take her out.”

Jay stood up straight, “I am firing you,” he said to her and  walked over to the cook, quickly writing down a meal he’s praying you’ll love and hooking it into the rack, “This needs to go out ASAP.” The cook nods, giving him a “You got it boss.” and a smile. 

“You won’t fire me,” Yunjin challenges, “But come on, I saw the way you looked at her.” 

“I don’t know her,” Jay retorted, walking to the back office and dropping into his chair, sliding his hand through his hair. 

“Then get to know her.” 

“You’re still following me? Get back to work.” 

“Jay,” she said leaning her elbows on his desk, “If you don’t take her out, I’ll ask Wonbin to take her out.” 

Jay rolls his eyes, “Wonbin?” 

She shrugs, “He’s been talking about wanting a girlfriend for a while, might as well. Or I could always ask one of your friends the next time I see them here.” 

“No!” The way Jay was so quick to reject the idea of one of his friends taking you out made Yunjin smile even more, “No, to it all. If something is going to happen, it’s going to be natural, stop playing matchmaker. Get back to work.”

She frowned, but nodded anyway, walking away, “She’s a beautiful woman, better take your shot before someone else notices.” 

Jay rubbed his temples. Oh how very aware he was of how beautiful you are. Knowing Yunjin was right. Jay made quick work of piling up your meal and dessert onto the tray and taking it out to you. 

Your smile at seeing the food made his heart sink. Sending his brain thinking about the way you’d smile at him for cooking for you, if it would be the smile you have now or even bigger, brighter. 

“Here we go,” he said, setting the grilled lemon chicken sandwich and chocolate cheesecake down in front of her, “This is my go-to meal,” he smiled, “I hope you enjoy it.” 

You try to not let your saliva spill out of your mouth at the food in front of you, “It looks fantastic.” 

Jay couldn’t help but continue to smile, pulling his notepad and pen out, “If you ever need anything,” he said tearing the paper from the pad and sliding it onto the table to you, “Or if you just want to talk or get VIP treatment here, give me a text or call.” 

You took the paper in your hands and stared at the number. You smiled at him, “I will. Also, tell Yunjin to mind her own business.” 

Jay laughed, “Trust me, I plan to.” 

—

You didn’t know what scared you more:

1: the amount of times you’ve shown up to the restaurant.  

or

2: the hours you’d spend sitting at the exact same booth every time talking to Jay in between him having customers. 

or

3: the amount of free food you’ve gotten. 

Probably the third option if you had to be honest. You’ve become a regular here at Hwa Young, slowly working your way through the menu of fine dishes and bakery items. Loved every single thing Jay has put in front of you and never once made you pay a single dime of your money. You’ve tried to pay every time but Jay always refused, “Can’t make a pretty girl pay, plus a friend of Yunjin is a friend of mine,” he would always say. 

But who were you to complain? Free food always tastes better anyway. 

You’ve been coming and going as you please to Hwa Young for about a month now. Slowly learning the names and faces of the other workers and even the other regulars. The restaurant finally slowed down as well, being only busy during peak hours. 

During that month, you and Jay got closer. You learned his favorite colors, how he loves playing the guitar, and even sang a bit too. Learned where he found his love of cooking and wanted to share that with the world. How he triple majored in computer sciences and business with his culinary degrees. The man was SMART. He told you how he worked on the side with his best friend at a software developing company when he wasn’t running the restaurant, to use his computer sciences degree. You learned all the little things about him that made up who he was, and you loved every moment of it. The small attraction grows into true genuine feelings. 

You realized you felt more than just the attraction while texting him one night. You were struggling with some family problems of your own, asking if you could rant to him. He called you not even a second later. 

“YN, what’s up? Talk to me.” 

You ranted to him without a second thought, feeling so at ease and comfortable with him. Telling him the high expectations they’ve set for you. How they hate that you’re a florist and want to own your own flower and garden shop one day. How they want you to return back to college and be a lawyer, to follow in your father's footsteps as one since you were the only child and don't have that older or younger sibling to take up that mantle for you. You expressed to him how much you hated it, how you sometimes felt you would have no choice but to give in to them. 

“YN, don’t feed into that bullshit!” Jay snapped over the phone call, and the sound of wind blew through the speaker, telling you he was outside, “You are your own person, if owning a flower and garden shop is what makes you happy, then by all means, please do that.” 

Those words, those exact words made your heart flutter and you knew that your feelings for this man were strong. 

Which is how you ended up at the restaurant the same days he was. Even if he was in the kitchen cooking that day, you still showed up. Sending Yunjin, Wonbin, Niki, or Danielle to let Jay know you were there, and one of them sending a plate of food out to you and him sending a text to enjoy your meal and he’d come out and see you soon.

Today was one of those days with him in the kitchen. Yunjin waved at you as you walked in and sat at your normal booth, waving back at her. Sweet Danielle also waved and mouthed she’d go get Jay for you. 

Jay flipped his baseball cap backward, using his forearm to wipe the sweat from his face and quickly rewashing his hands before jumping back to the grill. It was Friday night and customers would be piling in soon. He was on a mission to make sure everything went out on time and everything went smoothly tonight. Making sure all the kitchen staff had their heads screwed on tight and in order. 

Danielle skipped into the kitchen, leaning her elbows on the countertop, staring at Jay’s back, “YNNIE is here!” 

Danielle didn’t need Jay to turn around to know he was smiling wide, “Is she?” 

“Yes!” She sang with a tilt of her head, “I don’t know why you’re acting so surprised that she’s here, if you are she is too.” 

Jay finally turned around and indeed, had the biggest smile on his face, “I’m always surprised when she’s here.” 

Danielle raised a brow, “Oppa, just ask her out already.” 

Jay’s heart sank at the same moment Yunjin and Niki walked into the kitchen, hearing what Danielle said. 

“Yes hyung, I dunno if I can deal with both of your flirting anymore,” Niki said, making a face as if he was about to throw up, “It’s gross.”

Jay glared at him, “Then the next time I see you flirt with that pretty senior girl from your school I’ll tell her how badly you’ve been pinning.” 

Niki straightened up, narrowing his eyes to Jay, “You wouldn’t.” 

“Try me.” 

Niki smiles then, “Flirt all you want!” He pops a ticket to the rack and turns on his heels, “Just ask her out already.” 

Jay opened his mouth to fire out a retort, just for Yunjin to chime in, “You should though. It’s been a month.” 

Jay rolled his eyes, “Did anyone ask you?” 

Yunjin shrugs, “She’s my best friend, you wouldn’t know her if it weren’t for me.” 

Jay didn’t have anything to say to it. It was completely true. How could he fight her back on it? 

“Anyways!” Danielle said, “What are you making for her tonight?” 

Jay thought it over, “Probably something healthy tonight, gave her something really greasy the other day.” 

Yunjin scrunches her face, “Maybe bringing her was a bad idea.” 

Everything in Jay wanted to scream no, that it wasn’t a bad idea. But just glared at her and then at Danielle, “Are you two leaving Niki and Wonbin on the floor…alone?” 

The two girls quickly shot out of the kitchen, realizing leaving those two boys alone wasn’t a good idea. 

He quickly made the order on the ticket Niki dropped off and then made your dinner, carrying both plates out, stopping at Niki’s section first to drop off that order and then finding you in your normal spot. 

The restaurant was starting to fill up, he had to be quick. 

Jay set the plate in front of you and slid into the booth with you, forcing you to move over. 

“There’s another side of the booth, don’t you know?” you teased him, taking the sandwich he prepared for you into your hands, “You’d have more room.” 

Jay just shrugs and smiles at you, “Am I not allowed to sit beside you?” 

You take a bite of the sandwich, releasing a groan at the deliciousness of his cooking and swallowing the rest down with your water, “I mean, you can sit here if you’d want.” 

Jay rests his jaw on his hand, his heart doing flips at seeing how much you enjoyed him cooking for you. The happiness on your face every time you were here. The sound of your voice to further proves how happy you were being here and when on a call with him. It had him thinking maybe he should actually ask you out. Finally, take you on a date. To make you feel that happiness because of him completely, and not just by his cooking or talking with you over the phone. To actually spend time with you. 

“How much do I owe?” you asked, setting the half of the sandwich you had left onto the plate, “Isn’t it about time that I pay?”

Jay pretended to think about it, “Hmm,” he glanced up at the ceiling, then across the building, and finally back at you, giving you a smirk, “No.” 

You roll your eyes, “Come on, Jay. Stop giving me free meals.” 

He shook his head and stared into your eyes, wanting so badly to pull you to him and kiss you. But he’d hate for the first kiss to be in his restaurant with him covered and smelling of food grease and sweat. 

One of the cooks called for Jay from the kitchen. His eyebrow raised, “I know for a fact he didn’t just call for me across the restaurant as if I couldn’t fire him the moment I got back there.” 

You giggled, noticing a small strand of his dyed blonde hair fell out from the hole of his baseball cap. You reached up, twisting it around your finger then tucking it back into the cap. 

Jay’s heartbeat quickened, finding that one of the cutest things you’ve ever done so far. His employee's words rang through his head and before he knew it, his mouth was open and was saying, “Why don’t we go out tomorrow night?” 

Your face flushed, “L-like on a date?” 

He nodded, “Yeah, go out on a date with me, YN.” 

The two of you stared at each other, smiles so wide, and small laughter escaped your lips as you nodded back to him, “Yeah, I would love that, actually.” 

Jay couldn’t hold back smiling wider as he stood up from the booth, “I’ll text you the details later tonight after we close. Text me your address.” He gave you a wink and walked away. 

“Hey!” you shouted at him, “How much is this food?!” 

“Free,” he said over his shoulder, passing by Yunjin on the way back to the kitchen, “Make sure she doesn’t pay.” 

Yunjin saluted him, her eyes now darting to you and wiggling her eyebrows. 

Guess she didn’t mind her business after all. 

—

Jay tried his damndest to not stare at the cleavage spilling out of your emerald green dress or notice how fucking sexy your thighs looked squished together at how you rubbed them together out of nervousness. Jay knew his body temperature was more than likely through the roof. If you’d taken a thermometer under his tongue it would break at how hot he felt at that moment. It took everything in him to not stare at you on the car ride here. He almost fell down the steps of your apartment complex when he saw you in that dress with your hair pulled into a cute ponytail. Jay never tripped up on his words (or even his own two feet) before. No female has ever had him at a loss for words, no female has had his heart beating so fast he was afraid it would burst from his chest. What were you doing to him? 

Your dress wasn’t even fancy fancy, just a pretty normal everyday summer dress that you fitted with a pair of white Converse that were scuffed up and a bit dirty, but you only dressed this way because you didn’t think Jay was bringing you to the fanciest restaurant you’ve ever seen. 

“Jay,” you bumped his shoulder with yours, taking him out of the thoughts of the multiple different ways he wanted to bend you over in that dress. He placed a hand on your back and looked down at you with a smile, “You sure this is okay?” you asked, eyeing the other couples and parties in the restaurant then looking down at your dress, “This plus must be expensive and I feel underdressed.” 

Jay wasn’t dressed too fancy either, just in a black button-up dress shirt with black slacks with his dress shoes. It wasn’t fancy like some of the other men in this restaurant, but who cares? You two fit the description the restaurant said on their website. Plus, Jay just so happens to know the owner of this restaurant, so he’ll raise all kinds of hell if you two get kicked out. 

“Don’t worry, YN,” he said, “You look sexy, don’t need to worry about your looks.” 

You wanted to glare at him but kept your face stern. He knew that wasn’t what you were worried about, “Jay.” 

Jay chuckles, pulling you closer to him and resting his hand on your waist. He had to admit, he loved being intimate with you like this. Another feeling he wasn’t used to having. You were fucking him up, that’s for sure. “You’ll come to learn there’s no limits when it comes to me,” he didn’t take his eyes off you, “Princess treatment only.” 

You had to look away, biting your lips to keep from smiling so wide. The way he said that made you think he intended to take you out again, on keeping you around. And by god, you hoped so. 

Jay hasn’t felt like this in such a long time. Maybe late high school years were the last time he felt like this about someone, to the point of feeling like his chest was going to cave in. 

“Jay Park,” the host called, signaling it was finally their turn to be seated. 

Jay gently pushed your bag with him to move forward, “That’s me,” he said, giving the host a smirk, “Could you also possibly send Mr. Kim out? I’d like to say hello.” 

The host raised a brow, “I’m sorry, who are you?” 

Before Jay could answer, a man who mirrored Jay’s outfit but with a white dress shirt, slightly rolled up his sleeves and gave a big smile, “He’s the owner of Hwa Young, who has had five stars consecutively since opening.” 

The host swallowed and looked down, “My apologies.” 

Jay disregarded him, walking over to the one who you were assuming was the owner of this place, “Kim Seokjin,” Jay said, shaking the man’s hand, “Pleasure seeing you again.” 

“Well, the pleasure is all mine!” Jin laughed, “Congratulations on your restaurant being a success, I’ll have to stop by soon again.” 

Jay nods, “I’ll cook an amazing steak for you.” 

Jin clapped his hands, “Please, I love your steak! I actually got excited to see your name on the waiting list for tonight, I hope you find my restaurant lovely.” 

Jay nods again, “I knew I had to come try it out finally.” 

Jin looks over at you, “And who might this be?” 

Jay smiles even more, pulling you closer but more in front of him, “This is YN, she’ll be joining me tonight.” 

“Ahh!” Jin takes your hand, giving it a soft squeeze, “I hope you find this place enjoyable too!” 

You shyly nod, “I bet I will.” 

A few shouts happen from the kitchen and Jin’s smile drops with a sigh, “Duty calls.” 

“I know how that is,” Jay said, shaking Jin’s hand once again, “See you later man.” 

Jin starts to walk off, “Of course! Also! Tell your sister I said hello!” 

And then he was off and out of sight. 

“Follow me to your table,” The host said, leading the two of you to a table and leaving you with the menus. 

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” You said, looking around the restaurant even more, feeling ten times worse about what the check would look like after the meal was over. 

“Uhh, yeah,” he says, looking over the menu. He realized he hadn’t mentioned his sister much, “She’s who my best friend is engaged to, sorry I never made that clear.” 

You washed over with embarrassment, remembering how he had told you about her and maybe you just didn’t put two and two together. “Don’t apologize,” you quickly said, sliding your leg to wrap around his under the table, “I remember you talking about her now.” 

Jay looks up at you, his heart doing flips at your smile. At the way your ponytail falls over your shoulder and how your breasts are just…out. 

He forced himself to look back at the menu, feeling his slacks tightening against him. 

You caught him multiple times throughout dinner staring at your chest. He shifts his legs away from yours only for you to chase after them. It made you feel good knowing he was looking at you like a dessert he couldn’t wait to devour. You weren’t the type of girl to go chasing after sex but with Jay? He was making you want to chase anything that had to do with him. You could tell by his eyes he wanted you to. 

So who were you to not take this opportunity to tease him?

You kept rubbing your legs against him, folding your arms in a way to push your breasts together or lift them up and Jay clocked each and every moment you started to make after that. Watching how you’d flip your hair off your shoulder to expose your neck more, how you’d run your fingers down your exposed arms slowly in a way of showing him how you’d touch him. 

It took Jay everything to get past this dinner, silently begging the waitress to hurry with the check so he could pay and bang you later. 

He followed behind you as you walked out of the restaurant, his eyes staring at how the dress hugged your waist, showing the outline of your hips and ass, how the ends of the dress blew in the wind and hit your thighs. He couldn’t handle it anymore. You teased him the entire night. And he wasn’t going to just let you off the hook. 

You barely made it to the car before his hands were on your hips and twirling you around, pinning your back against his car, “You think you can just tease me the whole night and walk away from it?” he whispers, pressing his hard length against your stomach, face inches from yours. 

This is what you wanted, but you still couldn't stop from acting surprised. You figured he would have at least waited to jump your bones when he dropped you off at your apartment. 

“Don’t look so surprised, baby,” he pressed his cock harder against you, “You started this.” 

So you just smile at him, “You kept staring,” you teased more, “How could I not get back at you when you have a staring problem?” 

Jay chuckles, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger, “You’re lucky I love them bratty,” he lifts your chin up inching his face closer to yours, his lips brushing yours, “I’d like to tame that bratty attitude of yours.” 

Your knees buckled, but with his weight on you, it stopped you from falling to the ground in front of him, “Then tame it,” you whispered. 

He didn’t waste another moment, pressing his lips so fiercely against yours, moving together in perfect rhythm. His fingers slid from your chin to your jaw, cupping your face as his thumb rubbed against your cheek. The hand at your waist snaked up to your breast, squeezing and loving the way the plush slid between his fingers. He moans against your mouth, pulling away and resting his forehead on yours, “I’d love to tame you in my bed,” he breathed, hand reaching for the car door handle, “Get in the car.” 

The drive to his apartment felt like it took forever when it was only a short ten minutes. His lips were back on yours before the door to his apartment even closed. His hands were already pulling down the straps of your dress as he slid out of his shoes and you kicked yours off, leaving them at the front door as he dragged you down the main entrance hall. He stopped to push you against the wall, sliding the top half of your dress down to your waist, revealing the matching emerald green lace bra. You giggled at the look of pure pleasure on his face as he bent down to kiss the tops of your breast, his thumb looping between the fabric of the other and grazing your nipple. You softly moaned at the touch, your thighs rubbing together. 

Jay removed himself from you, pulling the dress over your hips and down to the floor. Jay was in complete awe. You planned for this by the pure fact you were wearing a matching laced bra and underwear set. His cock twitched against his slacks. He didn’t want to wait anymore. He takes your hands and pulls you towards him, lips and tongue finding home in your mouth as he drags you further into the apartment, leaving your dress forgotten about at the entrance. 

Jay fumbled with the door handle to his bedroom, finally getting it open and dragging you in, closing and locking the door behind him. He pushed you onto his bed, loving the way you looked against his bedsheets. You too were growing impatient, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, dangling it in front of him before tossing it into the void of his room. 

“Fuck, baby,” he smirks, sliding his tongue against his cheek, his hand working on the buttons of his dress shirt, “So impatient for daddy’s cock?” You nodded, cupping your breasts and squeezing them, eyes pleading with him. His shirt hit the floor in the same motion of getting on his knees in front of you, taking your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed and his fingers digging into the laced fabric and pulling them down your legs. He hissed at how wet you were, seeing how it pooled from your heat, “So fucking wet, so fucking pretty,” he whispers, rubbing his knuckle against your clit. 

You arched your back at his touch, squeezing your breasts tighter, “Jay,” you moaned, “Please.” 

“Hmm, please what, princess?” 

“Do something…” you begged. 

He slid two fingers into your cunt, your back arching more and a gasp escaping your lips, “You sound so pretty,” he cooed, slowly pumping his fingers in and out, “Be a good girl for daddy and you’ll get what you want, okay?” you nodded, and his movements stopped, “Use your words.” 

“Yes,” you gasped, rocking your hips against his fingers to feel the friction. 

He completely pulls his fingers from your pussy, “Yes what?” 

“Yes, daddy,” you whimpered at the loss of his touch, “I’ll be a good girl.” 

Jay smirks, sliding his two fingers back inside, “Good girl.” Jay loved how submissive you were to him. How fast you folded under his touch. God, it was so fucking hot. Driving him crazy. He kept his eyes locked on the way his fingers slid in and out of you, the lewd, wet sounds your pussy made when he’d push them in, and how you were moaning for him? It was obvious no man has ever fucked you good. Hasn’t fucked you right. But Jay was fixing to change that. 

He latched his mouth to your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bud, pumping his fingers faster, curling them after finding your weak spot, and hitting it repeatedly. Making it his mission for you to cum on his tongue. You clenched around his fingers, and he chuckled, “Getting close, baby?” 

“Y-Yes, da-daddy,” you whimper, moving your hands down your body and tangling them in his blonde hair, “Please let me cum, daddy, I’ve been good.” 

Oh, fucking hell I am done for. 

Jay switched out his fingers for his tongue, working his thumb in fast circles at your clit. You pulled his hair, chanting out his name as his tongue pushed in and out of you, licking every inch of your heat until the knot snapped and you came on the muscle. Jay moans against your cunt, licking up every last drop of your cum, “Fuck you taste so good, baby.” 

You smiled between your pants, lifting yourself up on your elbows to look down at him, his hooded eyes were filled with so much lust, endearment, and happiness. He smiles as his eyes trace from your leaking cunt up to your face, his hands now unbuttoning his slacks and standing up, dropping both the slacks and his boxers down to the floor. Your mouth watered at the size of him, so wide and long, so gurthly. “I’m going to breed the fuck out of this cunt,” he smirks, pumping himself with his right hand as he crawls on the bed, forcing you to scoot up further onto the bed, “Be a good girl for daddy and spread those legs, ya?” 

You bit your lip and spread your legs as you were told, him crawling over you and lining his tip to your entrance, he gave you one final look, his eyes asking for permission. You nodded, “Please, fuck me daddy.” 

Jay chuckles and smirks at you again, slowly pushing himself into you, both of you releasing a gasp when he bottoms out, “You feel so good,” he groans, slowly sliding himself out, and quickly snapping back in. He didn’t wait to give you time to adjust to his size, he couldn’t wait. You feel too good and so tight around him. Squeezing his cock with such pleasure, how could he not move? Wanting nothing more than to split this cunt apart with his dick. 

Jay worked himself faster inside you, taking your hands and pinning them above your head, leaving kisses on your neck and trailing them up your jaw, nipping at the skin as he did so. You wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing them tightly, “F-feel s-so good d-daddy,” you moan, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to your neck. 

“Hmm, fucking you so good you can’t speak without a stutter?” he pumped himself faster, completely taking your hands in his, squeezing them tight, “Haven’t ever been fucked this good, have you?” 

You shake your head, “Only you.” 

“Fuck, yessssss,” he hisses, his hip bones knocking into yours, surely leaving bruises to appear in the morning. Jay lifts up, removing your legs from his waist and flipping you over, raising your hips up and shoving your face down into the pillows, “Fuck you look so pretty face down ass up for daddy,” he growls, digging his fingers into your waist as he fucked into you, wrapping his legs around yours to spread them out wider. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, not with how tightly your cunt squeezed around him, “Finna cum, baby,” he breathed, “Gonna fill this pretty cunt so full of my cum,” he flung his head back, “Wanna breed this pussy so fucking bad.” 

“Cum inside me,” you lifted up to look at him, seeing how fucked out his face was, how blown out his pupils were, his bottom lip swollen from how hard he must have been biting it to keep himself calm, “Breed me.” 

“Fuck,” he groans, “Baby don’t talk like that to me, you’re driving me crazy.” 

You pushed your ass up against him, wanting to feel him as deep inside you as possible, “Please.” 

He couldn’t hold out anymore, not with you begging for him to cum in you. He was folding. Jay's thrusts got sloppy, giving it a good two more pushes and he was spilling into you. His hips smacked to your ass, trying to break the barrier of keeping him from completely tearing your pussy apart as he came deep. It didn’t help that you were pushing back against him as if you, too, wanted him as far and deep as possible. 

Once he came down from his high, he laid his chest to your back, rolling you both over to your side and pulling a blanket over your bare bodies. His cock was still buried in your cunt, but you didn’t care. He held you close, hands gently tracing up and down the side of your waist as he left soft kisses on your shoulder, “Get some rest, YN.” You didn’t realize how tired you were until those words. He finally slipped out from you, quickly climbing out of the bed and slipping out the room but quickly returning all the same with a warm towel in his hand, “Let me clean you up first.” 

Jay pulled back the blanket, and spread your legs, gently pressing the warm towel to your heat, wiping you clean. You felt so loved in this moment. You’ve hooked up with plenty of guys before, but none of them has taken care of you like this afterward. Or hell, take care of you during. It was different, a good different, but it still didn’t stop you from asking him why. 

Jay just laughs, “I told you there’s no limits when it comes to me, princess treatment only.” 

Also because you’re making me want to do things I’ve never done for anyone else. 

This was also a first for Jay, doing aftercare for someone. Usually, after he fucks he kicks the women out of his room and goes on about his day normally. But you? You make him want to take care of you. 

Once you are clean, Jay tosses the towel into his dirty clothes hamper and climbs back into bed with you, pulling you close to his chest and making sure you are covered enough with the blanket, pressing a kiss to your forehead. And soon enough, you both fell asleep. 

—

You woke up the next morning before Jay did. You slowly rolled over to see him lying on his chest, both arms pushed underneath the pillow and soft snores escaping his lips. You smiled at him, gently pushing his dyed hair from his face. 

Your stomach growled, a bit too loud for your liking, scared it would wake him up, but he just kept snoozing. You slowly climbed out of his bed, taking his boxers and pulling up up and over your hips and taking it upon yourself to open his drawers, taking out a gray sweatshirt and pulling it over your head. It was an oversized fit, but it was comfy and smelt like him. 

After everything Jay did for you last night, the least you could do was make breakfast for him. He owned a five-star restaurant and was an amazing cook, he had to have plenty of things to make for breakfast. You carefully tipped toed to his door and slipped out, thinking about the possible things you could make. Some sausage and bacon and eggs. Maybe pancakes or waffles—or even both—with some syrup and butter. Your mouth watered at all the breakfast food items. 

Before you could turn the corner of the hallway, you smelt food alright being made and your foot kicked something on the floor. You quickly looked down to whatever it was you kicked to see…a baby toy??

You quickly looked up as you rounded the corner, seeing four pairs of eyes on you and a baby sitting in a high chair in the kitchen. 

You felt your face heat up. Who are these people?! What are they doing in his apartment? Why is there a baby here? Did he secretly have a kid and not tell you? The baby had his nose, and she even smiled like he does with one corner of the lip curling upwards. You all just stared at each other, specifically the woman sitting in front of the baby. 

The silence is broken when the male standing behind the woman laughs, his head whipping to the dark red-haired male sitting across from the woman at the table, and the other one at his side, “You both owe me a hundred bucks!” 

The woman turned around and faced the one behind her, slapping his arm, “You took a bet on it?!?” 

The slap didn’t even faze him as he kept smiling, “Fuck yeah I did!” 

She turned and faced back at you with concern on her face, “I am so sorry about them.” 

You were at a loss for words, mostly out of pure confusion. 

“Hey, baby,” Jay’s soft voice said, him appearing at your side and leaning against the archway of the wall, “Was wondering where you went.” 

One of the males cleared their throats, and Jay’s smile faded as he turned and looked at everyone in the kitchen. 

The woman crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes down at him, “Got something to tell us?” 

Jay shrugs, trying to play off this awkward situation, “No?” 

The one with the moles on his face stood from the table, also crossing his arms, “We have rules here.” 

Jay was the one laughing now, “This is my apartment.” 

“Yeah, but we all pay the bills here too!” The woman snapped, “The three stooges even took a bet on you, big brother.” 

Big brother…That’s his sister. 

You quickly looked at him, pleading with your eyes for him to explain. He sighs, placing a hand on your back, “Everyone this is YN,” he takes a deep breath in, “YN, this is my sister __, her fiancé, and my best friend Jake is behind her. Heeseung is the redhead and Sunghoon is the other. These are my roommates and childhood friends.” 

You looked at each of them and it made sense. You noticed last night there were more doors on either side of the hallway. You should have known he had roommates. You just didn’t think it was the same people he talked about to you. Your eyes fell back to the baby girl, her chewing on the spoon she held in her small hands. 

“And that precious bundle of joy,” he said pointing a finger to the baby, “Is Hwa Young, my niece.” 

Hwa Young. He named his restaurant after his niece. 

Any worry finally left you. Watching as Jay walked around you and up to Hwa, her little smile growing big the closer he got to her. Her arms reaching out and cooing for him. Jay picked her up from the high chair, holding her tightly to his chest and pressing kisses all over her small face. Her hands grasped at his white shirt for dear life as her giggles filled the apartment. 

You studied them—all of them— as they watched Jay and Hwa. You could tell by the looks of endearment that everyone in that kitchen was a family, and you were the outsider. 

“YN!” His sister called to you and waved you over, “Please come join us, it’s not every day my brother lets us meet his dates.” 

You slowly walked across the living room and into the kitchen, getting a better look at the people around you. Jay and his sister looked so much alike, mostly in their noses. It was obvious Hwa got the Park nose gene. Jake wrapped his arms around her shoulders, leaning his head against her. Hwa had his eyes and a lot of his facial structure, an exact copy and paste beside the nose. “Jay actually never lets his dates stay overnight,” Jake said, clearly poking fun at Jay, “We made a bet on if you were still here or not.” 

Jay shot daggers at his best friend, “Why the fuck are you three making those stupid ass bets?!” 

Sunghoon shrugged, “Kind of hard not to when we all wake up to see an extra pair of shoes and a green dress in the hallway.” 

Fuck. The dress. You and Jay both had the realization of the forgotten dress, looking at each other with embarrassment. 

“Maybe next time, don’t leave clothes in the main entrance, stupid ass brother.” his sister teased, sticking her tongue out at him. 

Jay stuck his tongue out back, “Shut it, stinks.” 

The kitchen became loud, but so full of life as the five of them bickered back and forth but still laughed and smiled all the same. 

“YN,” his sister calls for you, slinging Jake’s arms off her shoulders and standing from the chair, “Do you need extra clothes? You can borrow some of mine.” 

You nodded, smiling at her, “I’d like that actually.” She took your hand and dragged you into what you assumed was her and Jake’s bedroom. A small crib sat in the corner of the room beside a dresser. She pulls out a pair of sweatpants and panties, “I don’t know how you feel about wearing another female's underwear, but I don’t mind at all. It’ll just be until we can wash the clothes you came here in.” 

You accepted the clothing, “No this is perfect, thank you for being so sweet to me.” 

She smiled, “I apologize for my brother, you looked…shocked to see all of us. I’m assuming he didn’t tell you.”

You shook your head, “I knew of you guys, just not that…”

“We all lived together?” you nodded again, “Yeah, Jongseong is very protective, to say the least. He more than likely didn’t tell you upfront because of that protection.” You gave her a confused look, what could Jay be so protective about? 

“It’s about Hwa and __,” you turned to see Jake walking in, “Jay is super protective over his sister and niece. Honestly, probably even you too, considering you stayed overnight.” 

You tried to not blush, “I am assuming that’s not something that happens here?” 

They both shook their heads, “Jay normally kicks them out right after,” his sister sighs, “But you’re different. He talks about you all the time.” 

Okay, NOW you were blushing. He talked about you? You couldn’t believe it. 

Jay yells something at Sunghoon about messing up pancake batter, causing the two in front of you to laugh. 

“Guess we should go back to make sure he doesn’t kill Hoon,” Jake said and pressed a kiss to his fiancé's forehead. 

“Welcome to the circus, YN,” she said, giving you a wink, “I am actually really happy you’re here. There’s too much testosterone in this place.”

Jake chuckles as you both follow him out of the room, you slipping into the bathroom to change into the clothes she gave you and returning back to the kitchen. You watched the five roommates banter back and forth. Teasing and laughing as breakfast was being made. Little Hwa sat in her chair eating cereal without a care in the world. 

It was obvious the bonds these five had ran deep. You kind of felt bad to just stomp on in. But they all accepted you. Teasing Jay about you and you about him. After a while, you too started teasing and laughing along with them, as if you, too, grew up with them. 

Jay wrapped his arm around you, resting his arm on the back of the chair you sat on, his thumb making figure eights on your shoulder, “It’s not too late to back out, you know,” he whispers to you, his eyes glued to Heeseung as he picked up Hwa and spun her around, placing a kiss to her cheek. You felt Jay tense up and stayed that way until Hwa was being held gently to Heeseung’s chest, “There’s still time to bounce out.” 

You looked up to him, placing a hand on his knee, “I’ll gladly join this circus.” 

Jay smiled and pulled you in for a quick kiss. The other men groaned and made gross sounds, “Shut up! Specifically you Jake! I don’t wanna hear it!” Jay snapped. 

Everyone laughs. You could indeed get used to this little chaotic circus. 

—

You’ve bounced in and out of the Park/Sim/Lee residence over the next couple of weeks. You felt at home there, mostly after getting to know each of them a bit better. Specifically Jay’s sister. She was probably the happiest one to have your presence there. 

You and Jay have also gone on multiple dates since then and have not only made love to you in his bed but also your own, taking care of you each and every time. It was pure bliss, truly. 

The only issue was…he’s yet to ask you to be his girlfriend. Which honestly, didn’t completely bother you. But at the same time…did? You’ve seen the way other women look at him when the two of you go out. You see how they drool over him at his restaurant. To say you were jealous was an understatement. Jake has told you the old stories about them going out to clubs and bars during their college days. How they were back in high school. Jay was always a heartthrob. You wanted that power to call him yours. Of being his. To go out and be able to show him off to the world. To hit up clubs, bars, and parties with him wrapped around you. 

And that’s exactly how you found yourself here in your current situation, all because you opened your mouth to his sister, her ears perking up at the words: clubs, bars, and parties. 

You fiddled your thumbs as you were sandwiched between Heeseung and __, with Sunghoon, Jake, and __’s best friend Shotaro, sitting across from you. 

Jay stood at the edge of the table, his pen touching the notepad, “Run that by me one more time,” he said with a dead calm. 

“I said, corn lover,” his sister said through her teeth, “Let’s go out tonight. It’s Friday.” 

Jay just stares at her and looks down at his notepad, “You have ten seconds to tell me what you want for lunch or else I am walking away.” 

“Dude,” Heeseung groans, throwing his head back against the booth, “We haven’t hit up a club in so long!” 

Jay drops his hands to his side, “Yeah because we have jobs and a baby to look after.” His sister just shrugs and crosses her arms, clearly pouting, “Who would watch Hwa?” Jay finally asked, breaking at his sister's will. She just smiles, glancing back at him. He snapped her name, “Who. Will. Watch. Hwa.” 

There’s that protectiveness over his niece. 

Jay shot his eyes to Shotaro, “I am guessing you aren’t watching her.” 

Shotaro smiled and shook his head, “Nope. I am coming with.” 

Jay’s eyes shot to Jake, “You better speak up about who is taking care of my niece before I strangle you.” 

Jake raised up his hands, “Dude, you think I’d just leave my daughter at home or something?”

Jay kept quiet, but his stare was relentless. 

“Oh, for fuck sake,” his sister groans, “Mom and Dad are watching her tonight. They are driving in within the next couple of hours.” 

Jay relaxed and let out a sigh of relief knowing Hwa would be taken care of by someone he trusted. His eyes finally land on you, “Are you okay with going out?” 

You nod, “It was…kind of my idea.” 

Jay smiles softly at you, “Fine, I’ll go.” 

“Yes!” The five of them chanted, leaving Jay to walk away with a roll of his eyes. 

“Hey!” Sunghoon yelled after him, “I am fucking starving! Come back here!” 

Jay flips him the bird, “I already know want you hooligans want, fuck off.” 

Laughter fills the booth you all sat at. Jay’s sister hugs you and rocks back and forth, “It’s going to be a blast!” 

—

You crossed your arms, standing closer to __, your eyes searching the club. 

You all arrived a little over an hour ago but it didn’t take long for Jay, Jake, Heeseung, and Sunghoon to be on the dance floor with alcohol in their hands. Shotaro wrapped his arm around her shoulder, rocking her back and forth to the club music as he took a sip from his beer can. 

“Why aren’t you two out with the others?” you asked, clinging to her other side, eyes finally landing on the boys on the dance floor. They laughed and sang to the music and drank their alcohol, tossing their hands in the air and jumping when everyone else did. 

She smiles at you, “As you’ve been told, those four are attached at the hip, they do everything together. I’ve been out with them enough times to let them have their moment first, they’ll come running back when they get it out of their systems.” 

You just nodded, seeing how obvious it was that this friendship ran deep, that you were still an outsider. 

“Don’t look so sad, YN,” Taro nudges you, “They’ll come running when they miss the girls, they always do.” 

“It’s mostly when one of them breaks off, the others follow like ducklings or head back to me,” she laughs, “But things are different now, you’re with us.” she wraps her arms around you, squeezing you, “You make my brother happy, I haven’t seen him like this before.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, so you just smiled, feeling happy that you made a change in him. 

“Anyway the real question is why aren’t you two drinking?” Taro asked, raising a brow, “I feel alone over here.” 

You wanted to drink, but you were expecting to do it by Jay’s side or even with __, but she wasn’t drinking, so you just clung to her side. 

“Well,” She started, giving a small shrug. 

“You aren’t pregnant again are you?!” Taro quickly pulled her to him, “Please tell me if you are!” 

“No!” she snapped, pushing her best friend slightly, “But we are actively trying…when we can. So I do not want to have any alcohol in my system.” 

It made sense. So Shotaro nods and wraps his arm back around her, “Whatever you say, princess.” 

You find the boys in the crowd again, seeing a hoard of girls now focused around them, “Guess they won’t be coming back to us soon…” you sigh. 

She looks out into the crowded dance floor and laughs, “We have beautiful men, what can we say?” 

Jake gave the females a small, “Sorry ladies, I have a fiancé and a child. I’m a taken man.” He shrugs his shoulders, making eye contact with __, “Actually she’s standing over there and I miss her, so bye!” 

Heeseung groaned at the loss of Jake, but reached his hands out to the ladies, “We won’t leave ya lovely ladies here, dance with us.” 

They laughed and cooed as they surrounded themselves around Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon. But Jay was off on another planet. 

He was watching you. 

He watched as Jake arrived at you three, his arms wrapping around his sister and kissing her, watching how you smiled at them. 

The women in front of Jay placed their hands on his biceps and shoulders, talking to him, but their words went in one ear and out the other. He was too focused on you. 

Before you, Jay would dive right into whatever these girls were offering him. To drink and get drunk and either take one of them to his bed or find himself in one of theirs. But ever since he saw you, it’s only been you. 

You made eye contact with him, your smile fading seeing how the other girls clung to him. But Jay only smiled at you, taking the girl's hands and pulling them off him, “Sorry, I have to go,” the girls pouted, asking him to stay, “I belong to someone else,” he said, his eyes filling with endearment for you, “She’s waiting for me.” 

Sunghoon grabbed the girls, pulling them towards him, giving Jay a wink, “Go to her.” 

Jay pushed his way through the crowd, eyes still locked on you. He loved the cute little black skirt you were wearing, loved how it fitted so tight against your thighs, shaping your hips perfectly. Love how the black tank top was also fitted, cupping your breasts nicely and showing off a bit of your tummy. It was sexy and he had to admit, he was jealous knowing his friends and other men in this club were seeing you like this. So dolled and hot. It was making his temperature rise and his pants to grow tighter. He wanted you. Not just in a sexual way at this moment, but all of you. You do something to him, drive him crazy, and he’s falling hard for you. 

He crashed hard into you, pulling you so tightly against him, hands cupping your face and pressing his lips to yours. Even though he was only away from you for a short time, he missed you. You could taste the alcohol on his lips mixing with the taste of his vanilla chapstick and the smell of his cologne. It was intoxicating, making you drunk just off him. 

His sister, best friend, and Shotaro all cooed at the two of you, “How cute!” 

Jay chuckles against your lips then rests his forehead against yours, sliding his hands down to your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours, “Let’s get away from these heathens,” 

“Heathens?!” his sister scoffs, “As if!” 

Jay smiles at his sister, quickly reaching over and ruffling her hair, “You'll always be a heathen, stinks.” Before she could start protesting, Jay was pulling you off to the other end of the club, his friend's laughter fading out as the distance grew. 

“Where are we going?” you asked him, squeezing his hand tighter and smiling so wide. 

“Away from public eyes, or well, my family's eyes,” You raised a brow, confused. But your question came with the answer when he pulled you into the corner of the club, pressing your body against it, face making contact with the cool wall. Jay snapped his hips against your ass, rubbing his hard cock against you, “I need you, I can’t wait much longer,” he ran his hands down your waist and to your thighs, “You’re so sexy, I hate knowing everyone else is seeing you in this outfit.” 

You purposely dressed this way, not for everyone else, but for Jay. You wanted to look good for him, wanted him to fall to his knees for you, and it seemed to be working. 

He placed kisses on your neck, breathing your scent in, “Fuck I love it when you wear this perfume, it gets me going.” You also purposely wore this perfume. It was Jay’s favorite and every time you’ve worn it he always ended up balls deep inside you. He loves it and can’t get enough of it, “You make me so crazy, baby.”

Jay needed to feel you…right now. His hands worked their way back up your thighs, pulling the skirt up and over your hips, quickly working fast to unbutton his pants and push them and his boxers down far enough to pull his length out, rubbing the tip against your clothed cunt. 

“Jay,” you gasp, pressing your fingers into the wall, “Someone might see.” 

“It’ll be quick,” he moans in your ear, “It’s very dark in this corner, no one will even notice,” his index finger pulling your panties to the side, feeling your slick pool onto his fingers, “Plus you're already so wet for daddy, what kind of man would I be to not satisfy his woman?” 

His woman?

Jay pumped his index finger in and out of your cunt, licking his lips at how wet you were, he didn’t even need to prep you. Jay wasted no more time, lifting your hips high enough and prodding your entrance with his tip, slowly pushing in until the tip kissed your cervix, “Fuck you’re so wet for me,” he moans again, taking a deep breath in before sliding all the way out and pushing himself back in, “so fucking wet.” Jay was able to pump himself inside you with ease, leaning his chest to your back and hands resting at your hip, pushing you down with each thrust he made. If this was to be a quickie, then he needs to be well, quick. 

You bit your tongue in an attempt to drown out your moans, probably not needing to anyway since the music in the club was so loud, but still you did it anyway, being scared of getting caught. But Jay was loving this, relishing in the pleasure of the possibility of getting caught. It was exciting. “My girl, being so good for me, taking me like this.” 

“But,” you gasp, “I’m not your girl—“ moans out in pleasure from him picking up speed, “girlfriend.” 

Jay was taken aback at your words, what do you mean you weren’t his girlfriend? You’ve been seeing each other for a while now, was it not so obvious you two were together? Jay realized then maybe you just need that reassurance, that physical label. Which was fine, Jay didn’t mind making it official official. He would be so happy to do so. Anything for you. 

“Baby, you’re mine, got it? We’re dating. You belong to me, and I belong to you.” 

You smirked, resting your body completely against the wall and hiking your ass higher, giving your boyfriend more access to fuck into you harder. And Jay did, he picked up speed and slammed his hips into you harder, squeezing your hips and digging his nails into your skin as you clenched around him, “Baby, I won’t last much longer if you keep squeezing me like that, please keep squeezing me, fuck it feels so good.” 

You clenched around him again and his moans filled your ear, his head resting against yours as he panted and chanted out your name, his thrusts becoming sloppy but unrelenting. You welcomed his seed as it spewed inside you, painting your walls like an art piece. 

Jay smirked as he slowly pulled out and replaced your panties and pulled down your skirt, “Let’s return to the others now, ya?” he asked, readjusting his pants back into place, “I want to show off my girlfriend.” 

You took your hands in his, smiling at him as he led you back into the heart of the club. 

—

“Absolutely not,” Jay said, waving his hand at Jake to move out of the way from the TV, “You make the perfect window, MOVE!” 

Jake rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “Come on man please!” 

You were lying on the couch with Jay, sitting between his legs with your back to his chest. The two of you were enjoying a horror movie of a masked killer when Jake stepped into the frame. 

Jay flung his head back into the armrest, “Dude, ask someone else.” 

Jake clicked his tongue, “I’ve asked everyone. Hee and Hoon are obviously at work, Shotaro is out of town for today for his job, you’re the only one who can watch Hwa tonight.” 

Jake was desperate and it was obvious, “What’s got you so desperate for?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows, “Got a hot date?” 

You love that you’ve finally gotten closer with everyone in the apartment to the point of joking and teasing like they do with each other. You can even just randomly show up, knock on the door and they let you in like you belong there. You and Jay also have been officially a couple for three months now, and life with Jay has been perfect. You’ve never been this happy. 

Jake smirked, “I do, actually.” 

Jay groans, “You just want to fuck my sister, brother. Not allowed.” 

Jake narrows his eyes, “I am engaged to her? I knocked her up?? I’m allowed to fuck her? Brother I haven’t had sex in almost two weeks, I’m desperate here.” 

“Dude,” Jay snapped, “Stop talking, I don’t want to hear it.” 

The two boys started their normal banter. You found it cute, honestly. Seeing Jay all worked up and being overprotective while Jake does all the teasing. 

“Jay,” Jake said, putting his hands together in a praying format, “Please, we don’t trust anyone else with Hwa but you and YN. Plus if you say no to me, __ is just going to beg you, and you can’t say no to her.” 

Jay knew he was right, he couldn’t tell his sister no. Never was able to, clearly, she’d never listen anyway, hinting at the fact she broke the off-limits rule and fucked his best friend and well, here they all were now. 

“We’ll watch her,” you answered for Jay, “Enjoy your time with __.” You didn’t mind watching Hwa, it honestly gave you more time to spend with her. She was always either attached to Jake, __, or Jay. Sometimes with Heeseung and Sunghoon, but mostly with her parents and uncle. 

Jay pinched your thigh and was ready to protest, but the deed was done. Jake clapped his hands, “Thank you so much!” Jake raised his hands in victory, walking towards his room, “I’m getting so pussy drunk tonight.” 

“Sim Jaeyun!!” Jay snapped, taking a pillow from behind him and tossing it across the room at Jake, completely missing from Jake sliding to the side and rushing into the room, his laughter being heard from the other side of the door, “Fucking prick.” 

You giggled, “Jay, let him have his fun.” 

Jay scoffed, “He just wants to get her pregnant again.” 

You sat up and turned to look at him, “Is that such a bad thing?” you teased, “You’d be an uncle to two.” 

Jay did kind of like the sound of that, mostly if his sister would have a boy and all the things he’d teach that kid and show him how to be cool. But he’d be done for if she’d had another girl. Jake would probably keel over too. 

So he waved off the idea, “As exciting as that sounds, this apartment was only meant for four people, there’s six living here. We don’t have the space for a seventh.” 

You crawled on top of him, straddling him, “It’s seven including me when I am here.” 

He smirks at you, hands now rubbing up and down your thighs as his cock starts to harden, “But you don’t live here.

You traced your fingers up and down his biceps, “This is basically my second home,” you lean forward, brushing your nose against his, “So I am the seventh.” You living here with him didn’t sound like a bad idea, he wouldn’t have to miss you so much. You’d easily just move right into his bedroom with him. The idea was so tempting. 

Jay lifted his face up, brushing his lips against yours, “You going to help pay the bills?” he whispered, sliding his thumbs up to the hems of your shorts, slipping them under, “Since you’re the seventh here.” 

You softly kissed him, then rubbed your nose against his, “No limits with you, remember? Princess treatment only.” 

Jay chucked, taking your neck with his hand and bringing your lips back to his, deepening the kiss. Oh, how bad he wanted to take you back to his bedroom right now. But the front door opening and the sounds of his sister scoffing took that temptation away. 

“Is this how you felt when you caught me and Jake?” she scrunches her nose, resting Hwa against her hip, “No wonder you’re always grumpy after, this is gross.” 

Jay just shakes his head, rubbing his thumb against your neck, “Get used to it. If I had to deal with it, you have to deal with it too, stinks.” 

Hwa’s coos and giggles had Jay smiling, his heart feeling with so much warmth. Jake came out of the room right after, Hwa reaching her arms out for her father, “Hello my sweet girl,” Jake cooed at her, bringing her close to his chest and kissing her chubby cheeks, “How was running errands with mommy?” 

“We did all the fun little shopping!” She said, pinching her daughter's cheeks, “All that fun stuff and now we’re going to have fun with Uncle Jay and Aunt YN, now aren’t we?” 

Aunt YN…??

“Yeah, a lot more fun than what you’ll be having.” Jay teased, lifting you off him and standing from the couch. The moment Hwa saw Jay walking towards her, her little arms stretched out, little fingers flexing into a fist and back out, speaking little babbles as if saying “Uncle Jay! Hold me!” He took her in his arms, rubbing his nose to her small one, her giggles filling the apartment. 

“Right,” his sister said, “You’ll be having a lot more fun than us.” 

“Obviously, because Uncle Jay and Aunt YN know how to party, isn’t that right?” 

You were still being thrown for a loop at being called Aunt, but you nodded anyway. 

Soon enough it was just the three of you in the apartment. Both you and Jay sat on the floor with Hwa as she played with her building blocks. 

“Aunt YN, huh?” you said, finally deciding to bring it up. 

Jay helped Hwa stack her blocks just for her to push them over and giggle, waiting for him to restock them, “Of course,” he says so casually, “You’re here enough to be considered one. My sister wouldn’t have addressed you as such if she didn’t think you’d fit that title. Heeseung and Sunghoon get called Uncle as well. Plus you love Hwa just as much as the rest of us, it’s perfect.” 

You felt your heart warming up at the thought of it, being a part of this little family. Hwa looked over to you, as if she could read your mind, and she smiled, holding her hands up to you. Now you know why Jay is always so ready to burn the world for this little girl. You picked her up and placed her in your lap, her little giggles making your heartache in such a loving way. You pulled her hair from her face, and placed kisses on her soft face. 

Jay’s heart immediately beat faster, his hands dropping the wooden block. Oh, he was in love with you. Seeing the way you were with his niece just now was the final piece to the puzzle for him. He’s in love with you. 

“Let’s have a baby.” 

You whipped your head up to your boyfriend, “What?” 

Jay’s eyes dropped from yours to Hwa, watching how her little fingers wrapped around yours, “Did I stutter?” 

Your face heated up and you awkwardly laughed, “Funny joke, Jay,” you looked back to Hwa, holding her tighter, “We’ve only been together for a short while, kind of early to be talking about kids, no?” 

Jay moved closer to you, taking your chin between his fingers and forcing you to look up at him, “I don’t care how short of time I’ve known you, it would be worth all the while having a baby with you.” 

You just smile at him, “Jay, give us a bit more time, we can discuss having children down the line.” Jay chuckles, kissing your lips then sitting back down, “Besides,” you sigh, “You still need to meet my parents.” 

Ah, the parents. The two people who do nothing but give you hell. Jay’s face of pure irritation was on display, showing you how he didn’t like the idea, but he knew it was important to you, so he relaxed his face with a sigh, “Name when and where baby, I’ll be there.” 

You nodded, making a mental note to call your parents later, being distracted by little Hwa and her yawns, her trying to force her eyes to stay open. 

“I think it’s time for someone’s bedtime,” Jay whispers, taking Hwa from you, “I’ll go put her down.” 

Jay disappeared into Jake’s and __ bedroom and returned back into the living room just as quickly, carefully shutting the bedroom door behind him. Jay hasn’t been able to get the image of you pregnant with his child out of his head ever since he mentioned it. And oh man, did the picture look sexy. Jay started to realize why Jake felt the way he did about his sister because it’s the way he’s feeling about you. 

It made him hard, truly did. His shorts were growing tighter against him. His eyes were glued to your mouth and how your lips relaxed into a soft pout as you stared off at TV. Jay started palming himself and dropped down onto the couch, “Hey, babe?” You turned and looked at him, heat flushing your entire body. Jay barely had sat down on the couch and already had his shorts and boxers pulled down, hand pumping his cock, “We have a problem,” Jay gasped at his own strokes, “I need you to fix it, got too horny thinking how sexy you’d look with my baby in you.” Your mouth watered and rubbed your thighs together. You loved how pretty his hand looked as it rose up and down his shaft, how his veins popped out. Taking notice of how when his hand reached the top, precum would slowly pump out the tip and leak down the side, “Come suck me off, princess, be a good girl for daddy.” 

You didn’t even have to think twice before you fell to your knees and took his length in your hand, tongue stretched out and flatting against the head, licking up the dripping precum. Jay hissed, flinging his head back against the couch, “Don’t tease me,” he warns, hand getting tangled up in your hair, “Be a good girl and I’ll fuck you so—“ his words were cut off by you taking him fully in your mouth, your nose touching his pelvis, “Holy fuck baby.” 

His fingers clenched tighter in your hair, moving with the motion of you bobbing your head. Jay forced his head down, mouth slacked and panting, watching how your perfect mouth sucked him so good. It was driving him insane. Mostly when you’d flatten your tongue to take more of him down your throat, your gag reflex sending vibrations onto him. Jay was definitely jealous of whoever you gave head to first, because whoever that man was got to experience pure heaven firsthand. 

His hair was starting to fall into his face, his free hand reaching up and pulling it back, giving him back his direct line of sight to look at you, only to be surprised at already seeing you staring back at him. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, loving the tears that swelled in your eyes and how you batted them at him, not slowing down your pace at all. 

You were going crazy at seeing how blown out his pupils were, how they looked down at you with such pleasure and as if you were the one who put the stars in the sky. You’ve never had a man look at you like this, with so much want and need and pleasure. He has such as much effect on you as you have on him. 

“Fuck, princess,” he moans, “Just like that, yeah—fuck—just like that.” This was the best head he’s ever received, and it pissed him off at how fast he was fixing to cum, wanting to relish more of the warmth your mouth gave him but at the same time wanting that release. He was so back and forth, but to his dismay, his cock twitched and threatened to shoot his load, “I’m fixing to cum babe,” he whispers, pressing your head down onto him, “I’m cumming.” 

His warm seed shot at the back of your throat, your tongue still rubbing against his shaft as he bucked his hips slowly, chasing out his high. 

Once he came by from reality, he pulled your hair, forcing you off his dick and to look at him, “Did you swallow?” you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, showing his cum nowhere in sight, “Good fucking girl.” He continued to yank you by your hair, pulling you up into his lap and pressing his lips to yours in a kiss, “Wanna head to your apartment once Jake and my sister return? I want to fuck you and be as loud as possible.” 

You nodded, feeling your panties continue to soak from your juices. You prayed for them to get back faster. 

—

Jay bounced his leg, not out of nervousness, but pure anger. Your parents sat across from the two of you, eating their dinner like you two weren’t even in the same restaurant as them. The plan was to meet your parents at this restaurant—that your father chose—at six thirty. You and Jay arrived thirty minutes earlier so your parents wouldn’t have to wait but saw they already arrived and ordered their meal. So now you and Jay sat in silence, waiting for your meals to arrive. 

“Would it have killed you to wait for us?” you said with cool calm, making sure the ice that your words were laced with hit them hard, “If you were showing up early you could have called me.” 

Your mother glanced up at you, eyes somewhat apologetic, but still filled with no care whatsoever, “YN, honey, you know your father runs a tight schedule. He has a lot of things to do.” 

“It’s Saturday,” you hissed, “Last time I checked, Dad has the weekends off.” 

Your father dropped his fork onto the plate, piercing his eyes at you, “I am a very busy man, YN. You’re lucky we agreed to this dinner tonight.” Jay locked his jaw and clenched his fingers into his slacks, who the fuck does this man think he is? “But, this is for you, so I apologize for arriving early and ordering before you two arrived. Honestly, I just wanted to enjoy my meal before we… discuss.” 

Yeah, discuss my fist plowing through your fucking teeth, old man. 

Jay was trying to keep calm, to keep a good poker face. These were your parents, he needed to be on his best behavior for you, mostly with how you’ve told them how they both are. Jay fully understands now why you try so hard for them, they have such high standards. 

Your father took one last bite of his meal and wiped his face with his napkin, “So, Jay, was it? Tell me about yourself.” 

Here we go…

Jay took a deep breath, feeling calmer after feeling your hand rest on his knee, “Yes sir, I grew up in a smaller town about an hour from here. I own and run a restaurant and work part-time with my best friend at his—“ 

Your father waved him off, “I already know that bullshit, I meant tell me something about yourself that would help make me believe you’re good enough for my daughter?” 

Excuse me?

Jay stared blankly at him, “I don’t quite understand what you mean, sir.” 

Your father sat back in his chair, crossing his arms, “Do you think you’re actually worthy of my girl? That your little restaurant and part-time job as a software developer would be good enough?” 

“With all respect,” Jay said leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together, “I made enough money to support your daughter and be financially stable.” 

Your father chuckled, “Yeah, only because you have your sister and best friends living under the same roof as you, in an apartment, might I add. With your niece living there too. You have support.” 

What was he trying to get at here? “I am very close with my family and best friends. It made more sense for us to stay together—“

“YN this is exactly why you should have continued going to law school,” your father scoffed, waving off Jay again, “So you don’t end up stuck in a ratty apartment with multiple people.” 

“Excuse me?” Jay said as calmly as he could, “My apartment is anything but ratty.” 

Your father kept his gaze on you, “My daughter only deserves the best, nothing as low as your income and living situations.” 

“Dad!” you snapped, “There’s nothing wrong with the amount of money he makes or his living situation.” 

Your father shrugged, finally looking at Jay, “YN, he can’t even keep his natural hair color,” he pointed a finger at Jay’s blonde-silver hair, “And his ears are pierced, is that a type of hooligan you want to see yourself with? Stuck in an apartment with multiple other people and a baby? He won’t be able to support you, mostly when you go back to law school and quit your low job at that gardening shop.” 

Jay stood to his feet, fists resting on the table, “When she goes back to law school? As in forcing her?” 

Your father smirked, “Yes, I’d be paying for it. She needs to follow in my footsteps.” 

“But she doesn’t want to,” Jay snarled. 

Your father sighs, looking at Jay with such disappointment, “You and your fucked up family won’t ever be good enough for my daughter.” 

You quickly grabbed Jay’s arm, using all your strength possible to keep him from walking around the table. Jay was livid. “Talk shit about me all you want, but don’t you dare speak ill of my family!” 

“Jongseong,” You called for him, your voice being enough to force him to sit back down in the chair. 

“I am in love with your daughter,” Jay said calmly and your heart stopped, he loved you? It wasn’t the way he wanted to confess his love for you, but he was desperate to have some advantage over your father, to prove himself, “I may not make millions, but I make enough to give her the life she wants, a life filled with happiness and no worries. I will always support her dreams and protect her with my life and it goes the same for my family, they love and adore her. I may not have a big fancy house, but I don’t want that. I love the little apartment I share with my sister, my niece, and my best friends. I wouldn’t ask for a better place or people to live with, and if that apartment is where YN wants to spend the rest of her life in, I’d be more than willing to make that happen, and if she wants to be a florist and own her own shop? I’d spend every drop of money I earn to build her a shop.” 

You slid your hand down to his hand, twisting your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. Jay looks at you and gives you a small smile, rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand, “I love her, so much. No amount of money or where she came from will ever change that. She’s my soulmate, I am lucky to have her.” 

Your mother’s heart was skipping a beat, face softened at the two of you. She quickly looks over at your father, placing a hand on his bicep, “Dear, they are happy.” 

Jay looks back at your father with pleading eyes. 

“No,” he said with a stern voice, “Love isn’t enough. Not when it’s clearly obvious he only wants what’s between her legs to whore about—“ 

You weren’t able to stop Jay this time. He moved too fast for you to even register what was happening. One moment your father was sitting in his chair, the next he was on the floor, Jay on top of him with his fist connecting to your father's face. 

This…This was Jay’s protection. You’ve heard the stories of how Jay has fought multiple guys growing up when they’ve hurt or talked ill of his sister and friends. Jay was a protector and stood by it. 

But this time was different, this was your father he was beating the shit out of, not some random boy on the street. 

“Jay!” you yelled, rushing to him and grabbing his shoulders to pull him back, “Stop!” 

Jay lifted his fist up, ready to throw another punch but stopped because you asked him to. He took a few deep breaths, staring at your father's bloody nose, “Don’t speak about her like that ever again.” 

Your father just smirks, grabbing a handful of Jay’s dress shirt and using all his strength to punch Jay back in the face, the ring your father always wore cutting a gash on Jay’s cheek. 

Jay moved to hit him again, but your cries and hands pulling and pleading with him to stop forced him to stand up and back away. His hands found home on your waist and pulled you close to his chest, eyes burning holes in your father. 

He stood up with the help of your mother, wiping away the blood from his nose with his sleeve, “No daughter of mine will date such a delinquent! I’ll have his restaurant shut down!” 

You pushed Jay off you and stormed to your father, digging your index finger into his chest, “I love that delinquent and I will continue to date him with or without your permission. And you won’t do such a thing as close his restaurant. I know about your dirty deeds as a lawyer, I’ll expose your bullshit so fast!”

“You wouldn’t dare,” your father pressed. 

“Fucking try me.” you spat, stepping away from him and giving your mother one last look with apologetic eyes, and walking away, pulling Jay behind you. 

She loves me??? She loves me…

Jay couldn’t believe it, “You love me?” 

You pulled him out of the restaurant and let go of his hand, “Take me home.” 

Jay followed behind you, knowing you were anything but happy right now, “Baby, let’s talk—“ 

“Take. Me. Home.” You stood at the passenger side door of his car, hand on the handle waiting for him to unlock it. 

Jay felt his heart sink, scared shitless about what was to come. He brushed your hand out of the way, unlocked the door, and opened it for you, closing it as soon as you got in. 

He just heard you say you loved him indirectly, and now he was terrified he was about to never hear you fully say it to him. 

—

The ride back to your apartment was silent, and with each trembling step up the stairs to your front door, Jay grew more scared. He’s never been more scared of anything in his entire life. Losing you? it would end him. 

He took you leaving the door open as you walked in as a good sign that he was welcome to come in, so he did. Carefully closing the door behind him and locking it, his hands sweaty as he opens his mouth but no words come out. He knew he had to say something—anything. 

You disappeared to the bathroom and returned back out with a first aid kit, “Sit down, please.” 

Jay nods, pulling the kitchen table chair out and sitting down, watching you with careful eyes as you pull a chair up closer to him, opening the first aid kit and pulling out some ointment, alcohol wipes, and a bandaid. 

You cleaned your hands off and then grabbed another wipe, bringing it to Jay’s cheek and softly dabbing at the cut, “He got me pretty good, didn’t he?” Jay said, trying to make light of the situation, his smile only fading when he saw you weren’t entertaining it. You continued to clean up the wound, dabbing the ointment on the cut and carefully sticking the bandaid to his cheek. He grabbed your wrist before you could move away from him, “Baby, talk to me. Please.” 

You looked into his cocoa eyes, “You hit my father.” You pulled your wrist from his grasp, closing the kit and standing up walking back to the living room. 

“What was I supposed to do, YN?” He scoffs, chasing after you, “Let him continue to speak about you like that? To let him talk about my family like that?” 

You turned to face him, “You could have used your words, not your fists.” 

“Right,” Jay chuckles, “Because talking to him was doing so much.” 

You knew how your father was, words never meant shit to him. It was always about the money and status. Your father knew using his words was going to be enough to piss off Jay, it’s why he did it, more so in the hopes it would get you to see Jay wasn’t worth it and come back home and fall into the nice pretty line he wants you to walk. You hated that line.

“You don’t understand!” you shouted, “He could ruin your entire life!” 

“I don’t give a damn about that!” Jay snapped back, “I know who I am! I have everything I already need and if he decides to try and fuck that over? I say let him try.” 

You run your hands through your long hair, getting more stressed by the minute, “I just wanted tonight to go perfect. I wanted my family to see I was happy that I was okay and prayed my father would see that and it would be enough.” 

Jay took a step closer to you, brushing his fingers down your cheek, but you took a step back, “Was happy? Was okay? Are you saying you aren’t?” Jay felt like he had the world on his shoulders weighing him down, ready to crush him into the ground. 

You shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest and hugging yourself. You didn’t know what else to say at this moment. All you wanted was to prove to your family you were perfectly well off without their help, that Jay was who you wanted and nothing would change it. But Jay letting his emotions get the best of him…

“Please don’t leave me,” he was quick to say, your eyes widening at him, concern on your face that he even thought for a second you’d leave him. Jay was now inches away from you, his hands cupping your face, “I cannot breathe without you. When you’re away from me I feel as if I have no air, that every ounce of it escapes my lungs when you’re not around. I meant it when I said I’m in love with you. My world would end if I ever lost you.” 

You wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you, “Jay,” you whisper, “You’re not going to lose me all because of a small fight. You’re stuck with me.” Jay lets out a shaky breath, resting his forehead against yours. He fully understood how Jake felt when he almost lost his sister, how his heart became a pit of despair and ache. “I love you,” you finally said to him, “I don’t want to live without you.” 

Jay kisses you suddenly, pulling you as close as possible to his body, “I love you. Please don’t ever let anyone ever tell you how to live your life,” he said between kisses, “I support you through everything.”

You smile against his lips, “Fuck everyone but you, you’re the only one who gets me.” 

He smiles back, sliding his hands from your face to your hands, “Fuck everyone but you.” 

Jay leads you to your bedroom, his lips finding home on yours again the minute he lays you down. His hands gently roamed all over your body as he one by one removed your clothing as your hands removed his. 

Sex with Jay always left you breathless, but the way he was making love to you right now made you feel dizzy and even more breathless, breathing air into your lungs with each kiss he planted on your lips. Feeling on cloud nine with each thrust he made into you as his hands clasped together with yours and pinned them down against the sheets. 

He was careful with you, not rough or fast but slow and gentle but still so full of love. He wanted to show you just how much he was in love with you. Yeah rough sex was fucking fantastic, but genuine love-making sex made him feel so whole. Your soft moans of love and pleasure made his body tingle and goosebumps form on his skin. He loved you so fucking much and he prayed you could feel the love he has for you. 

“I love you,” you whisper to him as if you could read his mind, “I love you.” 

Jay squeezed your hands and rocked his hips a tiny bit faster, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” 

Jay chanted his love for you the entire night and continued so even after he came and laid against you as you slept. 

—

Jay pushed his sunglasses back on his face, sweat dripping down his cheeks as he pulled you to him, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and you wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“It only took a year,” he said, giving you a big smile, “But we finally did it.” 

“Just in time for the summer too!” Heeseung laughed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and Jay’s arm, “YN’s Flower and Gifts!” he smiled, “Has a nice ring to it.” 

Sunghoon popped up behind you, resting his chin on the top of your head, “Just in time for the wedding too!” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Jake sighs, “__ was taking way too long to pick out flowers.” 

Shotaro glances at Jake, “You both get married next month?!?” 

Jay’s sister pinches Taro’s arm, “Listen, I needed the most perfect flowers!! And YN just happens to be the one who is going to give them to me.” 

You smile at her, “Damn right!” 

“You should have seen the flowers she took care of at the shop she worked at!” Yunjin said, clapping her hands. “YN was born to be a florist!” 

You blushed at your best friend, “Stop!” 

“No!” she sang, pulling you away from Jay and into her arms, “I’m so proud of you!” 

It’s been a year since you and Jay started dating. A year since you’ve found home within his family. It was crazy, silly, and chaotic, but it was perfect. 

Not only is Jay’s restaurant as busy as ever and he still worked with Jake part-time too, but he also co-owned your flower shop. When this man said there were no limits with him, he meant it. “I can use your flowers for when we redecorate the restaurant, and we can cater for you when you hold events.”  It was the perfect partnership, truly. 

“Da-Da!” Hwa cooed, her little legs carrying her over to Jake from her grandparent's side. Jake smiled at her and scooped her up into his arms kissing all over her face. 

“Fuck,” Jay sighs, “I still can’t believe she’s already walking and starting to talk.” 

“You’re telling me!” Jake said, pulling his fiancé to his side, “We can’t believe it either.” 

“Nor the grandparents!” Jay’s mother said, “I remember when the two of you were born, and now you’re both all grown up and I have a grandchild of my own.” 

Jay smiled at his mother and father, loving seeing how happy they were for this whole family. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon watched Jake and __ cuddle Hwa, Sunghoon nudging Jay’s shoulder, “When are you two having one?” 

Jay shot him a glare, “Don’t tempt me.” 

You roll your eyes and cling back to your boyfriend, “Should we show them inside?” 

He looks down at you, “Excited much?”  

You held your finger to your lips, “Super.” 

He nods, handing you the keys to the front door. 

“Everyone!” you shout at your family, “I welcome you to YN’s Flower and Gifts!” you unlocked the doors and flung them open, leading them inside the shop. 

With eyes wide and smiles on their faces, they each trailed around the shop, giving you their congrats and hugs. Jake, __, and Hwa looked around for flowers for their wedding and it honestly made you really happy that you’d have some big part of their wedding. 

Jay wrapped his arms around you, laying your head on his chest, “I’m proud of you, ya know,” he said, squeezing you tightly, “This was all you.” 

You giggled, squeezing him back. You take a look at every single person in your shop, and your heart fills with so much love, “Was this crazy? Are we crazy?” You couldn’t help but feel a bit crazy. Everything you could have wanted came true, how could you not feel crazy?

Jay lifted his sunglasses up, pulling back his hair as they rested atop his head, “Baby, I don’t feel so crazy when you’re around.” He took your chin between his fingers and had you look up at him, “I love you.” 

You smiled, standing up on your tiptoes to reach his lips. Maybe you weren’t so crazy after all.

—tags: @kangnina @ikeuverse @alvojake @jwnghyuns @iicehoon @lhspeachie @kwiwin @jaeyunq @enhaz1 @wondipity @lilyuwon @arunabrak @seunghancore @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @rapmonie2047 @all4moi @all4yoi @heerinnie @lhsvibez @sunghoonmybf @jeiluvey @parksunghoonsgf @velvtcherie @strawberrywonz @in-somnias-world @heexzbae @luvnicho @zeeloveshee @simjyunnie @niniissus @sk8terhoons @pockettwinzz @honeybunnee @simjaeyunramyeons @fakeuwus @eneiyri

[hannie-berrie]

Courtside Confessions 🏀❤️

18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Hoomin (Baku) X F reader

Genre: smut, protected sex, college, semi public, school’s changing room, cocky but romantic Hoomin wants you hihi

Warnings: semi public sex

wc: Around 3.2k ?

Disclaimer: I made this for a friend (YAYYY) thanks to my pookie who’s reading this, ya know who you are! For other readers, sorry my first language isn’t English, so please excuse any mistakes I make or weird sentence structures I might’ve made!!

It was one of those golden evenings where the air in the gym practically filled with anticipation. The stands were full, the music was loud, and every time Hoomin touched the ball, the crowd went wild.

He wasn’t just good at basketball, he lived for the crowd’s cheers. Every spin move, every no-look pass, every high five with his teammates was a performance.

The grin on his face practically gleamed under the gym lights. The confidence? Off the charts. The cockiness? Absolutely earned. The attention? He was soaked and could almost drown with it.

But still, even in the middle of the game, his eyes searched the bleachers until they found you. He’s kinda like an idol, everyone swears they’ve made eye contact with him, or swear they caught his attention.

You were already looking at him, holding up a sign you’d made just to mess with him. Big bold letters: “Try not not get hit by the ball, big head” You blew him a sarcastic kiss.

He laughed mid-play, actually missed a pass because of it, and got elbowed in the ribs by a teammate.

Worth it.

After the game, everyone surrounded him, teachers, friends, total strangers. A lot of girls of all grades jumping in the crowd, hoping to get an interaction with him. But he weaved through the chaos like he always did, looking for you like a magnet.

You were waiting in the hallway just outside the locker room, leaning against the cool brick wall like you had all the time in the world.

“Look who it is,” you hiss as he approached, gym bag thrown over one shoulder and sweat still shining on his neck and forehead. “I noticed you missed a bunch of shots, wonder why the crowd still applauds you” you joke

Hoomin gave you that signature smirk. “Are you jealous of all the attention I get, or just mad I didn’t wink at you mid throw?”

“Your ego is so fambloyant I thought it was the sunlight hitting me through the window” you retorted, but you were already smiling.

He stepped closer, invading your space just enough to make your heart skip. He said, voice low. “You always keep your eyes on me.”

That earned him an eye roll, which he clearly loved. You tried to play it cool, but the warmth radiating off him was too hard to ignore.

Especially when he leaned one arm above your head against the wall as if there wasn’t plenty of room next to you to lay against the wall. His head tilting enough trying to make you nervous.

It was always like this with Hoomin. A constant flirtatious energy in the air, playful but electric. He flirted with everyone, but when he flirted with you, it felt personal. Or maybe that’s what each of them felt like.. maybe you were just as delusional as all the others.

You both stood there, close enough to feel the heat between you, the hallway quiet like the calm after the storm. He glanced down at your lips, then back at your eyes.

“You keep playing games,” he starts, “but every time you show up to my games, sit in the front row, wear my number… I know you’re not just messing around.”

You puffed just slightly. “Maybe I like watching you.”

“Yeah?” he asked still out of breath, eyes not leaving yours “What else do you like?”

You didn’t answer right away. Your heart pumped hard in your chest as you stared at him, his loud breath only sounded more serious. He wasn’t just being cocky anymore, he was being real.

“I like it when you’re not trying to impress everyone,” you said quietly, finally breaking eye contact from the pressure. “When you’re just… this version of you. With me.”

His breath caught.

“God, you make it hard to keep my cool,” he muttered, suddenly reaching up to push a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers brushed your cheek, warm and slow.

You felt your whole body tense at the intimacy of it, your usual witty retort completely gone.

“I like it when you mess with me,” he added. “But I love it when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you asked, genuinely curious, your voice smaller, vulnerable.

“Like you see past all of it.” He gazed from your left eye to your right, like it was the entry to your soul.

The air between you was different now. Hoomin leaned in, close enough that his lips grazed your cheekbone. “I could kiss you right now,” he whispered, his voice shaky.

You swallowed hard. “You’re all sweaty.”

He laughed, warm and throaty. “You like it.”

Maybe you did. You didn’t answer.

His hand dropped to your waist, fingers brushing over your shirt lightly, almost testing you. You shivered instantly, trying not to show it but the smirk that spread across his face told you he noticed.

“Come with me,” he said, tugging your hand gently. “Locker room’s empty now.”

You raised a brow. “You’re inviting me into a sweaty locker room? How romantic.”

He leaned in close again. “I’ll make it worth your time.”

Your heartbeat quickened. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of how flustered you were, but the truth was, you wanted to follow him.

Even though you always teased him.

Even though you claimed you weren’t impressed.

Because this wasn’t just the cocky basketball star anymore. This was Hoomin, with his ridiculous grin and his stupidly perfect smile and his rare, unguarded moments that made you melt.

And when he looked at you like that, like you were the center of his universe, it was hard not to give in.

So you followed him.

And for once, you didn’t feel like messing with him at all. He couldn’t believe how easily you’d listen to him without making little comments.

Hoomin had half the school wrapped around his finger most days, flirting came as easy as breathing.

But with you? Every comeback you gave him, every playful joke, every little smirk you gave him, it knocked him off his game in ways a basketball couldn’t match.

The locker room was quiet, dim except for the faint overhead light humming above the rows of lockers. He dropped his bag with a loud sound and turned to you, taking in the way your eyes scanned the space, curious, but you also felt out of place, this is a boy’s restroom.. pretty much.

“You know,” his cocky tone softened, “You’re the reason I missed so many shots” he dried his face with a towel

You tilted your head. “Why’s that?”

He was hesitant, not his usual kind. He almost looked.. shaken up? Vulnerable even. “You make jt hard to focus” He was only more and more confusing. He’s far from the type to beat around the bush but it’s like he was hiding the craziest secret from you right now.

He just closed the gap between you, one hand finding the small of your back, the other rising to cup your jaw. His thumb brushed your cheek as he leaned in suddenly, slow, sincere, and soft, giving you every chance to pull away.

Your eyes widened, the sudden gesture making your body warmer than it already was. But you didn’t pull away.

The kiss started soft. Testing the waters. Plump lips pressed against yours with focus, like he was memorizing how you tasted. But then your hand fisted in his shirt, and that was it, he deepened the kiss, lips parting, breath unbeat with yours as he pulled you in tighter.

Everything slowed down.

He felt the way you sighed against his mouth, the way your hands moved from his shirt to his waist, gripping lightly like you didn’t want him going anywhere.

He wouldn’t have even if you asked him to.

When he pulled back, just a little, he rested his forehead against yours. Both of you breathing harder now, caught in the moment. Looking at your pretty zoned out face from up close.

“God, you drive me insane,” he murmured. “You always act like I don’t faze you, but then you’re looking at me like that and I—” he broke off, laughing softly. “You make me so uncertain, like no other”

That look, vulnerable, wide-eyed with uncertainty but hope he gave you? It was lethal.

“I make you uncertain?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m scared of making mistakes when it comes to you” he said without hesitation.

And then, because he couldn’t help it, he kissed you again. This time, slower. Deeper. Your hands slipped around of his boxer line, fingers brushing over the warm skin of his back. His breath hit against your lips.

“Careful,” he murmured, smiling into the kiss. “If you doing that, I won’t be able to let you leave for a while.”

You giggled, you actually did. And that did something to him he didn’t expect. Not lust. Not hunger. He looked at your smile in admiration, trying to print the image in his mind like you were going to dissipate into thin air the next second.

You could feel the tension in his muscles, still buzzing from the game, and he could feel your heartbeat, fast, just like his.

“You’re not just a game to me, you know that, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know.”

You laughed at him a little, “Who knew the cocky basketball star had a soft side?”

He grinned. “Shut up and kiss me again.”

And for the first time in a long time, the noise in Hoomin’s world faded, and all that was left was you.

He may say he doesn’t want to play with you, but gosh did he kiss like he played, confident, fast paced like he did this many times before, but full of passion and something close to affection.

Your fingers drawing little circles on his back his his boxer line again, and your hands slid underneath the fabric.

“You like messing with me,” he said between kisses, lips brushing along your jaw, your throat, down to your collarbone. “But you’re all flustered now, huh?” He loved to tease you more than anything in this world.

You tried to respond, but you held your breath as his teeth grazed your skin.

“Mmhm, that’s what I thought,” Hoomin stepped back and threw his jersey over his head and tossed it somewhere away.

He pressed you gently against the lockers, a hand sliding beneath your shirt, fingertips skating up your back. His touch wasn’t rushed, it was reverent. Like he’d been imagining this and didn’t want to screw it up by moving too fast.

Your shirt soon left you and was throw somewhere along his.

After so much heated kissing, his head rest on your naked shoulder, letting the both of you catch your breaths, hearts pounding in sync.

“We don’t have to go further,” he took your hand, still breathing in the crook of your neck “We can just… stay here.”

You looked up at him, brushing his sweat damp hair back with your fingers. “I want to” the words slipped out your mouth quicker than you could even realize it.

The next moments blurred together, your too peeled away, fingers tracing lines of skin, heat building between soft laughs and murmured names. Hoomin just wanted to take care of you, there were moments where he’d stop just to look at you, to brush his thumb over your lip or trail his fingers down your side.

And you, Gosh you were just as guilty of it. Letting your guard drop, your playful mask melt away, realizing just how much you’d wanted to be close to him like this, under all the jokes and signs and flirting.

6:37pm

Half an hour of just feeling each other went on and you haven’t realized that you were both only wearing your lower underwears.

The whole school was probably home by now so you didn’t have to worry about getting caught. The gym had closed a while ago, after the game.

Both of you were light headed from all that intense kissing. Hoomin took a moment to analyse the current situation.

It felt like a fever dream, he had you all for himself after so much eager and hesitation. His fingers found their way down between your thighs, teasing you with his ring finger. His other hand traveled behind your back, pressing your bodies together.

The small and teasing circles he drew around your bud soon caused heat in your panties and he let out a sigh.

“Fuck If I knew I could have you like this, I would’ve done this long ago, you drive me nuts” you only whined in response, thoughts dissipating like he was blowing them away.

His breath became more controlled, his touches precise and his words intended, like he has set himself a mission to send you beyond your limits.

When your head rolled back, you felt his presence lower down your body, his breath on your lower stomach area, and his finger moving your pantie to the side.

You looked down in surprise not expecting him to have kneeled down crotch level, his lips met your inner thighs a few times before digging into your core.

“Shit H’min slow down” his kisses on your bare skin flew raw. His kisses felt more like he was making out. Hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady and stable as he ate you like you were his last meal.

A wave of pleasure washed over you, forcing your back into a slight arch, his face burying itself further into you. When you twitched, he made sure to control your body enough so he wouldn’t lose the build up he’s made on you.

Your heavy breaths transformed into mumbles and soft moans he swear he could die for. In this moment, time felt inexistent, you had no idea how much time had passed by. Maybe you should worry, but you simply weren’t able to when you had the boy of your dreams, tongue twisting around you, looking deep into your eyes, just waiting for your hums of approval.

Your hand naturally wraps itself through his hair, tightening your grip everytime you felt you got closer to your end. His eyes flickering under the slight pain but he’s not one to complain.

When he noticed your lips parting and legs slightly trembling, he knew you were close, so he gave his tired mouth all he’s got one last time, room filled with the noise of his lips sucking so passionately.

He doesn’t give you time to recover from your sudden release he’s already searching (digging) through his bag for protection.

“One second baby I got it”

The sudden nickname had your already flaming cheeks turn pink. He wasn’t even trying, the right words just came to him at the right times.

Ripping the condom wrap with his teeth, he checks up on you once again. “You sure this is okay?” You just nod at him, with what he thinks are the prettiest eyes he’s ever met.

There isn’t much hiding behind his boxers anyway, his bulge is way too obvious you can mentally prepare yourself. He takes his rocking hard crotch in his hands and pumps himself a few times, teetch biting his lower lip from the pain of how hard he was.

Your help him slide the condom on his dick, it was on the larger side, probably average length but bulky. Your arms wrap around his neck, anticipating the sharping pain in between your legs but he plunges his lips on yours again, to distract you from hurting.

He’s not the quiet type, he wants you to know how good you make him feel and loves for you to reciprocate it. He groans and moans deeply against your lips as he buckles his hips up and down in you at a slow place, giving you time to adjust.

When he feels your grip loosen enough around his length, he speeds up his pace, the noisy skin slapping sound taking over and almost making your head spin.

You could feel him in your depths, and it wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thought it would be, maybe the kiss made it better or he just has his way with you.

Hoomin’s hands grip your thighs and without a warning his lifts you up the cold floor and wraps your legs around his waist. Maybe he was flexing a little too hard, or he could never get enough closeness with you.

He couldn’t help but grunt a little everytime he thrusts into you, feeling himself completely losing his sanity every minute that would pass.

You were too dumb fucked to think properly, “fck baby you can’t look at me with those eyes, I won’t last long” you weren’t doing it on purpose, the feeling of his buried inside you is better than anything you’ve ever felt before. And the way he could just handle you the way he wanted to, gosh you could have a climax from that alone

He puts you back onto your feel when his arms tire out, turning you around like he owed your body and knew exactly how to fold you. You were facing the wall, his hands attaching to your hips like they were his sole source of stability and he entered you again, this time was much more easy, he could practically slip in from how wet you were.

Hoomin’s first instinct was to lean down and bite your ear. “You’re lucky everyone’s gone by this time, you’re so loud I bet even the upstairs classes would’ve heard you” he mocks you but thrust hard into you when you open your mouth to argue back

“fucking you so dumb you can’t answer me?” He teases the fuck out of you as he always had. And even worse when you reach your second climax. Your knees felt like they were about to fail you, vision blurry and hands gripping onto absolutely- nothing.

“That’s right baby, you’re doing so good, I’m close too hold on just a little more, you can do this” Hoomin’s swallowing back moans threatening to escape through every bit of sentence and dirty talk he gave you.

His pace soon got saccadic, hips bucking into you at a messy speed, losing his rhythm. And with a few last thrusts he completely loses it, eyes shutting, trying to take all of the feelings, your pretty voice mixed with the heat of your body glued against him but also his pride and stress release hitting him.

He didn’t have to worry about doing things wrong with you anymore, he knew you were crazy for him the same way he was for you.

⸻

Wrapped in one of his hoodies, curled up beside him on the bench after everything slowed down, you felt it for the first time, not just desire, but something deeper humming quietly beneath it all.

And when he pulled you close again, kissing your temple and whispering something stupid just to make you smile, you knew you liked him, a whole fucking lot.

MASTERLIST HERE

[pedge-page]

Live a Little, Give a Little

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You're looking to boost your OnlyFans ratings with a big public stunt. Lucky for you, an eager stranger happily helps you out, and gives you more than you expected!

Warnings: Exhibitionism, public sex, train sex, being caught, unprotected sex, creampie, groping, dub con, thigh fucking, mention of oral / cum eating, male masturbation, (*SPOILER*pregnancy) surprise at the end at the end :)

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Starting an Only Fans account to earn a bit extra money turned into something a bit more of a hobby than a cash grab. You enjoyed the attention you got from the thousands of strangers, particularly men, who lurked on the internet, asking you to do ridiculous things for their sexual pleasure. The higher your ratings went up, the more they were willing to pay. And the less likely you were to say no.

Which is how you find yourself on a crowded public train during rush hour, wearing a tight as fuck blouse with your tits ready to burst out if you sucked in too big a breath and a short frilly skirt that came higher than the lowest part of your ass cheeks with no panties, bare pussy out for anyone to see.

Or touch, for that matter.

You’re standing close to one of the doors, facing towards the city passing by in a blur through the window. You should be more nervous than wet. People brush by you, or press up against you, touching your lower back then going along like it was something innocent. You know there’s at least a few perverted fucks on here who are thinking with their cocks with just one look at you. It’s hot as hell on the rattling cage, though that could just be your exhillerated nerves. Your face feels warm, hands clammy at the hope that one of these men will “accidentally” grope you—and they’ll be in one hell of a surprise. 

 You feel the presence of a particularly large, built man behind you. You can’t see him, but he hasn’t made an attempt to squeeze by either. He just stands there, looming, close enough to feel his breath  against your shoulder when he sighs. 

This is the one.

You can’t even see this strangers face, but you intentionally bump your butt against him. The train sways, and a warm, thick palm comes up to your hip, holding you securely—no, pulling you closer to him. You gasp a bit, not ready for your senses to be so on edge by his bluntness. Maybe it was an accident. But by the way his hand is still gripping you so close, maybe not…?

The train stops swaying, returning to a smooth track despite the hoard of people it carries. His hand starts to retreat. You quickly tuck your elbow in, grazing his forearm with determination: don’t leave, you plea.

His beefy fist only pauses for a second, as if contemplating your gesture. It continues back down to his side, to your disappointment.

What you didn’t know was how he was staring down your back, noticing something very bold, very daring, and very pretty hiding under your skirt.

He flicks his wrist back up as if to rub his nose, and there he sees it: your naked ass on display, swishing daringly, as if on cue, to flash him before the fabric settles back over.

Your eyes close when that little breeze fades. He’s seen it. There’s no doubt. You can hear him clearing his throat before he’s pushing his full front against your back.

“Mmmf!” You peep, biting your lip not to moan when his massive fucking bulge pokes against your slit. The train is packed even more tightly now, though that doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Your perverted savior’s fingers are dancing along your upper thighs, delicately rubbing little circles, tickling your skin and hiking up your pathetic excuse for closing to feel more of you.

The scratch of his beard against the back of your head tells you that he’s looking around, head on a swivel to see if anyone has caught wind of your dirty little secret.

Stomach clenching with exhilaration, you hope he makes another bold move to feel just how much you’re dripping, all clenched up between your thighs to prevent leakage. All because of him.

The stranger looks down and can see a phone in your hand, easily pointing towards your bum. And even less obvious, the camera being on and displaying your lower half and his.

He smirks to himself, brushing off his groan with a cough again.

He does what any man would do and pulls his dick out. 

Almost too easily.

The man pushes closer to you so others can scoot by behind him. There’s no way he’s going to let anyone come between you two right now.

 You hope the next stop isn’t for a long while now.

Fuck, here it goes.

You let your free hand drop down behind you and tug his cock playfully. Jesus Christ, he’s fucking huge! It jumps excitedly in your hand, warm and hard as a rock, fleshy, beating in your grasp. You can feel his sticky precum smearing against your inner thigh. The poor thing just begging for attention. 

You loved attention.

More struggled grunts behind you. Rubbing his nose excessively, clenching his jaw and looking around the compartment. Nothing mattered to you more at this moment, not even being on a crowded train, than getting that girthy slab of meat inside you. Your legs work of their own according, parting ever so slightly. 

He senses it. The man sheaths himself closer upon your invite, your body melting into his muscular physique, broad and overpowering your physical senses. Everything around you screamed him. His smell, his chest rumbling, his belly conforming to the arch in your back. His digits slide in front of your thighs, carving up under your skirt and between your legs to feel the generous slick drooling from your clit.

He stifles a groan at the same time you swallow your whimper. Jesus, his fingers were thick too, rolling over your clit as you tugged on his erect member.

He glances at the phone in your other trembling hand. You feel the strong embrace of his paw hold it steady, and your heart drops knowing he’s aware you’re filming the two of you—but more so that he’s encouraging it. He sees your cute ass cheeks and dripping pussy on display while his cock slides into frame. 

He defiles you so considerably slow, gliding his length along your folds, collecting the slick to lube himself. Fucking your thighs. Teasing your little nub with the hooked slink of his tip each time he pressing forward and then up.

The static sound of the train speaker comes to life as the conductor announces gibberish, conveniently muffling that cry you let out when he slides his pulsing cock into you. He’s got you pinned, knees braced as he pushes in fully. You can’t help but jolt forward, falling against the door with your hand braced out to hold you. 

It’s so full, engulfing every millimeter of space and then some inside you. So unlike the cold silicon dildo’s you’ve been fucking yourself with for your fans every week. You had almost forgot what it was like to have a real man inside, warm and twitching and fucking massively alive, but my god, never one this fucking filling. He stretches your walls like a gum band around an elephant.

You don’t need to see the reflection of your cross-eyed fucked out expression in the window in front of you. He can see it though, pride settling over his bones at what a fucking whore you must be to let a stranger impale you on a crowded train.

Though, given how wet you were, he’s curious if he’s the first.

He starts languidly thrusting, casually glancing around and coughing his grunts to see if anyone is looking. They’re slow, methodic. Blending in with the natural bouncing of the train car. 

Your tits smash against the glass, the buttons of your blouse almost begging to tear. While it seemed no one inside the train with you might be called to your attention, anyone looking from outside towards the train would be able to see you in the compromising position. 

His palm splays out over your tummy, making sure your ass sticks out and happily engulfs his throbbing cock into your tight heat. Thank God the rumbling of the wheels on the track mask the squelching noises and patted slapping of skin against skin. 

He’s leaned so close, the scruff of his beard tickling your temple, but the ripple of the moving city prevents you from being able to see his image clearly. You catch just feint glimmers of brown and grey curls, patches along his beard—combined with his rough and calloused demeanor. You’re certain that he’s much older than you had originally guessed.

Fuck, if that isn’t hot as hell.

You’re barely holding in moans now. He fingernails dig into your skin, warning you. But you want him to hear, to encourage his fucking of your slutty cunt. The desire to feel him in your stomach for days, long after he’s disappeared. You want him to leave a mark, a memento so you remember this wasn’t just a dream.

There's other people on the train standing close enough who catch whim of you and your perverted partner but they quickly pretend to look away, embarrassed, nearly in denial at what’s happening right before them. Most of these people wouldn’t hesitate to watch without shame, cocks and pussies out, rubbing together at the sight of this on their phones at home. But out in this space, it’s a sin to consider, to acknowledge the presence of.

It feels so much better when it’s wrong.

You catch a woman’s eyes, smiling with your tongue out as your faceless fuck-buddy ruts into you with precise yet minimal humps. It fuels your actions more, being caught and still going without shame. 

Your core tightens, and he feels it. He keeps using you like a flesh light, and you happily let him. Your orgasm slams you hard. His hand cups over your mouth as you wail out without care, pussy convulsing around his length and milking him. His fingers invade your mouth and muffle your moans, his tip crashing into your cervix before stilling. Floods of his hot load empty into your pussy, pulsing long thick ribbons before pulling out and jerking the rest of his pearly spend onto your petaled lips and smearing it over your slit. 

You breathe deeply, trying to regain your regular heartbeat without looking as if you were just fucked a mile from heaven. 

The train begins to slow, the next stop approaching so quickly you don’t even register it. It was over so fast. Your skirt falls down, just barely hiding the white stains along your inner thighs as he zips his softening cock back into his trousers.

Your body turns just as he squeezes by you on the other side, and you can’t catch his even a glimpse of his face before he's walking off onto the platform and disappearing into the crowd.

The doors close, and the train lurches forward again, your mind too dazed to realize you’ve missed your stop.

-

6 Months later

Joel crashes down on the couch, his body aching after a rough day. He fishes out his phone, routinely on time for his nightly and less than satisfying jerk off session with a bottle of beer.

He scrolls aimlessly to his favorite searches, desperate for something new. Its been months since he last got laid, nothing feeling quite as thrilling as that one time…

His eyes widen when he finds an incredibly familiar clip online titled: “Creepy Perverted Old Stranger with Massive Cock Fucks My Pussy Raw on a Crowded Train While I'm Ovulating!" 

He clicks on the video, and instantly recognizes your blouse and frilled skirt, the setting of the train, like it was yesterday. The camera doesn’t reveal any faces, just your little ass and pussy from below and eventually, Joel’s crotch. 

The video’s time stamp notes that this was uploaded 6 months ago, and its got one hell of a following with 23 million views.

There’s a description that starts with "60 year old creep…” and he almost wants to comment that he is actually 56, for your information. 

He watches the video 8 times, unable to even touch his hard cock begging helplessly because he’s too mesmerized by just the sight of your beautiful pussy. Even in your shaky grasp, he can see clearly your pretty folds, his cock invading you and stretching you beyond a reasonable limit. He was denied the image then, but etching it in his brain right now.

He closes his eyes, remembering that feeling of being inside you so vividly: your tight walls swallowing his dick like a champ, suffocating him yet pulling him back in with each draw. He relives it in his mind, has been doing it every few nights. Nothing had ever felt quite as good since you. The thrill of the setting. Your tight sexy body in his grasp, your wet swollen nub twitching on his thumb, and the sight of you—something the camera doesn’t pick up on, something that is only private to him, but he remembers it as though in front of him now. Seeing your expressions so clearly in the window’s reflection, eyes rolled over, tongue lolled out as he rocks your world. It was the last best cum he’d had, and even then it was repressed, slow, and hard to get to when he was being quiet and holding back, it still ranked higher than any high he's had since.

The video continues after he’s pulled out and departed from the train, showcasing the mess he left and your swollen flower now wrecked from his doings. He wishes he had stayed, knelt down and buried his tongue into your folds, lapping the mix of your combined juices and cleaning you up so nobody else could enjoy the sight he’s beholding now on his tiny screen.

He clicks your account and sees the most recent upload was last week. It didn’t seem like you were very active in these few months, but the vigorous commenting and hearts on your recent video has people stirring, and Joel’s curious to know why.

As the video plays, your pretty face and upper body are in frame, smiling to the camera and waving. You look exceedingly radiant, glowing with an effortless aura as you thank all of your fans. He pumps his dick to the sight of your beautiful complexion, soft yet deviously sexy smile crystal clear and staring directly at him. He can’t believe he was inside you, that he dumped his seed in you on the whim a chance and here he is only just now learning your name and true face.

 You speak eagerly as you announce a surprisingly unexpected news as a result of that video. The camera pans down, revealing your heavily rounded tummy.

 Joel stops his movements on his cock, feeling a harsh throb practically jumping towards the screen at the image of your pregnant body. Your hand glides over your beautiful naked belly, thanking the perverted stranger on the train for giving you such a generous gift to remember him by.

A pained gasp boils out of his throat. His pupils dilated. Mouth parted. Heart skipping a long beat.

He didn’t even realize he had already cum, his hot glue dribbling down his knuckles and shirt as the video ends with your winking kiss. 

Permanent Taglist:

- - - -

Part 2

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

[navybrat817]

Back to the Office

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You got back to the office to get your phone and stumble upon something you shouldn't have seen.

Word Count: Over 2k

Warnings: Dark AU, minor character death, mention of blood, threat of violence, kidnapping, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @youdontknow-things requested Bucky and a visit Under the Boardwalk (dark) with prompt #28 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You quietly entered the building and sighed when you caught the time on the clock nearby. Most of the lights were off since everyone was gone for the night, but you didn't mind since you wouldn't be there for long. You just couldn't believe you made it all the way home before you realized that you forgot your phone, too preoccupied with reading a new book on the train. It was a downside of having to go into the office three days a week. Now you’d have to rush to make dinner or order out once you got back.

At least your desk was on the first floor and you could work from home tomorrow.

You passed by a few cubicles and shook your head once you made it to yours. It wasn't much, but it was still your space. “There you are,” you muttered, your phone sitting right beside your keyboard where you left it. Grabbing it, you smiled to yourself when you saw a text from your mom. She was always checking on you.

Just as you were about to respond, you noticed a dim light out of the corner of your eye. It was coming from your boss’s office. You should've known he was still there since it wasn't unusual for him to stay late. He was the kind of boss who showed up first and left last. He also had a good sense of humor to balance out his hard work ethic.

You walked down the hall before you could stop yourself and knocked twice on the cracked open door. He didn't say anything, but his rule was you could always go in if the door wasn't shut and locked. “You know, the company won't go under if you go home,” you giggled as you pushed the door open completely.

Your laughter died in your throat when you saw your boss facedown on the floor in a pool of his own blood. The sight and coppery scent that filled the room made your stomach roll and you tried to force air into your lungs as your phone fell from your hand. You felt paralyzed, unable to go to his side to check his pulse. But from how still his body was, you sensed he was dead.

What happened to him?

“You aren't supposed to be here.”

A deep and oddly pleasant voice you didn't recognize drew your attention past the body to the desk. A tall man clad in black from head to toe met your wide-eyed stare with a soft smile. With cobalt eyes, long dark hair, and broad shoulders, you would've found yourself attracted to him in any other scenario. But this stranger exuded danger.

You were in trouble.

“W-Who are you?” You asked, unable to keep your voice even. “What happened to him?” You added, not wanting to outright accuse him of anything.

He tilted his head. “I’d tell you, but…” He winked, the rest of the statement hanging in the air as the tension skyrocketed.

I’d have to kill you.

Your legs shook before you took one step back. The second step you took made him frown. The third stepped he moved toward you. You turned and ran as fast as your feet could carry you. If he caught you, would you end up in a pool of your own blood, too?

Blame it on fear or disorientation, but you took off in the wrong direction. Instead of heading toward the front of the building like you should've, you went straight toward the supply closet at the other end. Your hand shook as you locked it behind you, your legs giving out as you caught your breath.

Fear raced down your spine as you cowered on the floor, blankly staring at the door in front of you as you hugged your knees to your chest. You bit your lip and tried not to make a sound when slow footsteps approached. Maybe there was a chance that the man didn't see where you went. It was a stupidly optimistic thought.

And you couldn't believe you dropped your phone. You could've tried to call or text someone for help. Would it have done you any good though? By the time anyone got there…

“I know you're still here and I’m sorry. I was kidding with that whole ‘I’d tell you, but I’d have to kill you’ implication. Bad joke given the circumstances.” His voice rang out clearly through the door. “Bet you’ve never seen a dead body before. I know it can be quite a shock.”

The image of your boss dead in his office was one that would haunt you.

“Everyone calls me Bucky,” he said, so casually that it unnerved you. How was he so calm? “It's a nickname.”

You never heard your boss or anyone around the office mention someone named Bucky. It was a name you would've remembered since it wasn't exactly common. What did he want?

“I was sent here to kill your boss. As you can see, I succeeded,” he continued when you didn’t respond, his voice slightly louder. Closer. “I’m very good at my job.”

You whined, tears burning your eyes. Your boss was kind to everyone. He had a family. Why would anyone want to cause him harm?

“Bet you didn't know he was mixed up with some bad people. Ones who aren't so forgiving with anyone who tries to steal from them. Of course you wouldn’t know. Why would you?” He mused.

Your heart pounded when he stopped in front of the door, his feet blocking out some of the light that came through. You backed up more as if that would help you. Whatever your boss was mixed up in, it didn't justify killing him.

“Sorry you had to see the aftermath. Like I said though, you weren't supposed to be here,” he went on, knocking twice on the door and making you jump. “Can’t say I’m entirely upset that you're here. My team and I like to be thorough when we research our clients. So, naturally, we have a file on you.”

You clamped a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming or yelling at him. He didn't really have a file on you, did he? He was just toying with you. He had to be.

But when he spoke your name like honey on his tongue, you knew he was serious.

“Been working here for what? A few years now? Kind to everyone at the office. Their ‘go-to’ when they need help, but you’re underappreciated. No one even thanked you for that cake you brought in earlier this week.” Your stomach dropped when he chuckled. How did he know? “And you haven't gone on a date in about six months. Bet you're pent up. I can help with that.”

Your skin crawled, but you stayed quiet. Your life didn't concern him. Except in a strange way it did. Because your life was now in his hands.

A sigh came from the other end of the door. “I know you won't believe me, but I won't kill you. You’re innocent in this. I do have to take you with me though because I can't trust that you won't go to the cops. Can't have loose ends. You understand that, right?” Bucky said, his tone almost pleading with you to see it his way before he knocked twice again. “So open the door.”

No. You couldn't go with him. The man was a killer. “I won't go to the cops,” you promised once you lowered your hand from your mouth. You just wanted to go home. “I won't tell anyone what I saw.”

He chuckled again. “You’re so cute. And you're a good girl, aren't you?”

Heat spread up your neck. “Please, if you just-”

“You have two options. First option, you stay in there and I break down the door. If I have to do that, I'll drag you to my car, throw you in the trunk, and chain you up in the basement once we get to my home.” Fear shot through your body. “I'll feed you bread and water so that you don't starve, but it'll keep you weak enough that you won't be able to run far or fight back should you get out of your chains. Who knows how long I’ll keep you down there?”

Your mouth parted in horror and you wondered if he could hear how hard your heart pounded through the door.

“Oh. And I'll go through the contacts on your phone and start killing them off. One by one.” He paused when you choked on a sob. “I'll start with your mom and dad.”

Squeezing your eyes shut didn't stop a tear from falling. “Please, don't,” you begged. You couldn't let anything happen to them.

“Now that's the first option,” he said in a gentler tone. “The second? You open the door and come with me. I'll hold your hand while you sit beside me in the car and I'll make sure you're nice and comfortable when I take you into my home. I’ll feed and care for you, and your loved ones will be safe.”

A shuddering breath left your lungs. Going with him willingly was the lesser of two evils. “If I go with you, you really won't hurt my family or friends?”

“You have my word, doll face.”

He could snap your neck the second you opened the door. He certainly looked strong enough to end your life without breaking a sweat. Could you trust him to keep his word? Did it matter? You sealed your fate the second you came back to the office.

At least if you went with him, there was no reason for him to hurt anyone else, right?

“You said you had a team. What about them?” You asked, sniffling as another tear fell. Would they want you dead?

He cooed, like it would comfort you in a sense. “Don't worry about my team. They’ll be here soon to take care of the mess, but they won't lay a finger on you. You have my word for that, too. Just open the door.”

If you let too much time pass, he’d likely make good on his promise to break down the door and everything else after. “Okay, Bucky,” you said, as if saying his name would humanize him. You pushed yourself to your feet, wiped your eyes, and reached for the door handle. “I’m going to trust that you’ll keep your word.”

You barely had the door open before he reached in and grabbed your arm, yanking you out so you were nearly pressed up against him. Instead of pain like you expected, it was surprisingly gentle. His iron grip wasn't breakable though and there was no use in fighting. He won. Both of you knew it.

“I like how you say my name,” he smirked, holding up your phone before he pocketed it. You made a sound before he shushed you. “I won’t hurt them since you came out here willingly, but I can’t exactly give your phone back to you now, can I?”

“I guess not.” You swallowed, your throat dry. He pulled you close and you wished you could pull away. “When will you let me go?” You asked, hoping in your heart that he'd grow bored of having you around and set you free.

His brows furrowed, confused by your question. “Never,” he stated.

A single word snuffed out the hope like an extinguished flame on a candle.

“Never?” You whispered, fear filling you all over again when you looked into his eyes. You saw your future in them, something dark and cold. You longed to feel warm. “But my-”

“I have my very own doll to play with now, so why would I let you go? Oh, don't be so tense. I promised I’d take care of you.” With a loving smile, he used the other hand to caress your cheek. You would've collapsed in a heap if he wasn't holding you. “Let’s go home.”

Home to him. A prison to you. All because you just had to go back to the office.

So, that happened. Maybe we can revisit this yandere-like Bucky in the future? What do we think? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

That day, the bus is mostly empty. It's only you, an eldery couple, and the driver. The ebb and flow of traffic slows the wheels as the driver passes by vacant stops. You watch the pavement roll by between patches of grass. 

The dulcet ride lures you into a calm even as your pre-work nerves buzz. You hug your bag in your lap as the driver stops and the doors open to let in another passenger. The axel squeals as the vehicular behemoth pulls away from the curb. 

You continue to watch the city as the new rider strides between the seats. You sense their shadow loom closer and closer. You expect them to claim the empty seat across from yours. Instead, the sit right next to you. It's an odd choice given the few passengers aboard. 

You fidget and make yourself smaller. You turn your head straight as you try to see the stranger from the edge of your vision. They're big. Broad enough that their arm presses to yours even as you try to shrink into yourself. Tall too, his knees against the row in front of you. 

He sits rigidly beside you. Uneasy at his proximity, you fish into your side pocket and slide free your phone. You open it aimlessly, tapping habitually on the crossword app you play at work in the low times. 

The solutions elude you as your mind can't detach from the man crowding you into the window. Why can't he sit anywhere else? You look around at the unclaimed seats. He stays as he is, stiff, straight, unmoving. 

You close out of the came and lock your phone. You clasp your hand around the device as you hug your bag once more. Your other hand toys with the little pom pom that hangs from your zipper. 

The bright bus signs pass by. You're stop is coming up. Now is the awkward part. Getting the man to let you out. 

You pull the cord to signal your intent but he's already on his feet. You glance over and thank him softly, a brief glimpse at his face. A scar ripples from his hairline, through his temple and angles down his cheek to his jaw. His eyes are a bold blue and his nose finely cut despite the large blemish.  

He stands back as you grab your bag and sidle out. You go to the doors. He follows. 

Huh? 

He grips the yellow bar behind you, his large hand gripping as if he might crush the metal. You stare at his knuckles and the bus jerks to a stop. You nearly fall off your feet. The man catches you by your hip with his free hand. 

You set your feet and cough out another thanks. Embarrassed, you slap the doors and they open. You scurry off and the men once more trails after you. As you veer towards the mall, he waits until the bus takes off and crosses the street. With him, your suspicious leaves. 

You're frazzled as you enter work. You don't know why. You just... are. Something about that man sticks with you. Even if he never said a word, it felt like he was trying to tell you something. 

You clock in and try to shake it off. His face flashes in your mind. You can't place what seems so familiar about him. You would remember if you met him before. How could you forget? 

You go to the counter as Layton talks with a customer about the new seasonal blends. The tea shop has its peak times, especially as winter approaches, but it's one o clock on a Tuesday and that's never very busy anywhere. 

You greet the next customers. Two girls interested in the cold brew pots. You show them what you have and explain the store's points card. The buy a sampler and nothing else. Typical. 

Layton finishes at four. The traffic picks up once he's gone. You don't mind as it keeps the time moving. It peters out as the dinnertime rush fills the food court. You can hear the crowd from around the corner. 

You set to wiping down the counter and putting away the few stray canisters left out. As you turn back, you have to swallow down a shriek. You didn't hear the man over the mall's top hits playlist. 

You hesitate as your eyes meet. It's him. The man from the bus. You blink and press your lips together. 

"Hello, uh, how are you today?" You ask.  

He just stares. No answer. No sign he even heard you. 

He's in all black. Boots, jeans, cargo jacket. He stands like a soldier. You part your lips again, "are you looking for anything in particular? Today we have our apple crisp chai as the sample." 

He still doesn't react. Not more than his eyes falling to the nervous twiddle of your fingers on the counter. Your scalp prickles and your nape burns. If he keeps this up, you'll have to phone security. 

He raises his hand to reveal a familiar object. It's the fluffy pom pom from your bag. Your brows pop up, "oh? Thanks. It must have fallen off." 

You reach for it and your mind races. As nice as it is to return the key chain, you can't help but wonder. How did he know where to find you?

As you grasp the soft ball, his other hand comes up and snares your wrist. Your squeak and try to pull back. You're stuck in his grip.  

Your eyes round and flick up to meet his. His gaze bores into you and at last, his stony expression cracks. He smirks, the scar on the side of his face paling as the lines around his eyes deepen. He releases the keychain and grabs a fistful of your hair. 

"Ow!" You squeal and yank again.  

He rips your hair out at the roots and you exclaim again. Hets go of your arm and you hit the shelves behind you. He nods and spins on his heel, clutching the handful of your hair.  

You whimper and rub your head as your scalp burns. Your eyes water and your lip trembles. You just gape at the door. What just happened? 

[tenessee-walker]

possesive!arthur headcannons - a.m

Warnings: Possessive!Arthur

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

possessive!arthur keeps a protective hand on your waist whenever you're around other men, making sure everyone knows exactly who you belong to.

possessive!arthur glares down anyone who gets too friendly, even if they mean no harm. He doesn’t care if it’s Dutch, Charles, or even Hosea—his jaw clenches, and he stands just a little taller, shoulders squared like he's ready for a fight.

possessive!arthur gets gruff and irritated when you talk about another man, even in passing. “Why the hell you bringin’ him up? You got me, don’t you?” His arms fold across his chest, lips pressed into a firm line. He ain't jealous—at least, that’s what he tells himself.

possessive!arthur always makes sure you’re wearin’ somethin’ of his, whether it's his hat, his bandana, or even just his coat draped over your shoulders. He loves seeing you wrapped up in something that smells like him, especially when other men are around.

possessive!arthur will remind you you’re his in the most heated ways possible—gripping your chin, making you look him in the eye as he rasps, “Ain’t nobody else gonna treat you like I do. Ain’t nobody else gonna love you like I do.” And he means every damn word.

possessive!arthur absolutely loses it if someone dares to flirt with you. He doesn’t give them the chance to even finish a sentence before he’s stepping between you and them, his voice low and dangerous. “You got somethin’ to say to my girl? Nah? Then keep movin’.”

possessive!arthur loves marking you up—bruises on your hips, love bites on your neck. He wants everyone to know that you’re his, and he’ll make damn sure they see the proof.

possessive!arthur gets possessive even with the gang sometimes. If Javier or Charles make you laugh too hard, arthur gets all grumbly about it. “What’s so damn funny?” he mutters, pulling you into his lap like it’s nothing.

possessive!arthur isn’t above scaring off potential threats. If some stranger in town gets too bold, arthur will step up, gun resting on his hip, voice dark and steady. “Best walk away while you still can.”

possessive!arthur loves hearing you say his name—especially when you reassure him. Whispering “I’m yours, arthur,” against his lips is enough to make him melt completely.

[he3ts]

GIVE YOU MY LOVE

squid game masterlist / part one — part two — masterlist

pairings: nam gyu x reader

warnings: angst, jealous!nam gyu, smut ( p in v ) less than the first part but i prioritized tension and sadness!! toxic relationship, sub reader, alcohol use. mild thanos x reader. this is part two, i recommend you read part one to continue reading. sorry if this is long, but i got too carried away. never mind the mistakes, i'm fucking tired

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and i don't see an easy way to get out of this,,

her diary, it sits by the bedside table

the curtains are closed, the cats in the cradle

who would've thought that a boy like me could come to this

oh i, i just died in your arms tonight

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This time, you would not come back

At first, he didn't pay him any mind; you always did that. You would walk away, disappear for a few days, then come back, slamming the door and insulting him for his way of doing things. It was your sick game, a cycle that repeated itself over and over again. He knew it, had always known it, and that's why he hadn't worried when, for the first time, you didn't answer his calls.

You're being difficult. He had told himself a thousand times, throwing the phone on the table with a tired smile. But then the days had passed. Seven, to be precise. A week without a message, without a call, without even your name lit up on the screen in the middle of the night. A week of total silence. And then the weeks had turned into a month.

Nam Gyu had begun to feel it on his skin, that emptiness, like an ink stain slowly spreading, staining his days, soiling everything. The phone had become an obsession. Every night he unlocked it, looked at your contact, but he couldn't call you. He was too proud. Too convinced that, sooner or later, you would give in. You. Not him. Just you.

Only you hadn't. As the months began to roll by, Nam Gyu began to change.

He was no longer him. Or maybe, he was more than before, but without your eyes to make him feel like someone better. Without your presence to balance his chaos. His nights were made up of never-ending cigarettes, of glasses left on the edge of the table, of pills melted under his palate, of days that blurred together without meaning. He did not sleep, or slept too much. He talked little, or talked too much and to the wrong person.

Girls came and went. Bodies without faces, kisses without taste. He looked for your scent on them and never found it. It irritated him. It drove him crazy.

One year. A year without you. That was how he measured time now.

No one was saying it out loud, but everyone was noticing. The way he reacted to things had changed, patience was in tatters, irritability a constant. Friends knew it, strangers who crossed his path at the wrong time knew it, but no one knew it as much as he did.

No one felt your absence like he did. Yet, he was no longer looking for you. Because inside him, though he didn't want to admit it, he understood. This time, you were not coming back. For your own sake.

The club Pentagon was still the same. Dim lights, pounding music, bodies moving too close, but never enough to fill the void. The air smelled of alcohol, sweat and stale desire, a perfect place for those who wanted to forget, for those seeking a temporary escape from reality. Nam Gyu had dropped onto one of the black leather couches, a drink between his fingers. The amber liquid swayed slightly as he stared blankly at it. He didn't even know why he was there. Or maybe he knew, but he didn't want to admit it. It had been months since he had heard from you. Months that had stretched into a whole year.

"May I sit down?" A female voice brought him back to reality. He looked up as his eyes rested on a young woman with dark hair, bold eyes, a smile that tasted of promise. She wore a black dress that swathed her body in a way that should have attracted him. It should have.

Nam Gyu did not answer right away; he already knew how it would end. It was going to be a night like many others, a night when he would try to forget you in the arms of someone else. It never worked, but he kept trying anyway. He nodded his head. She smiled, satisfied with his silent acceptance, and sat down next to him. Her scent was sweet, perhaps too much so.

"Are you alone?"

He gave a small, bitter smile. "For a long time"

The girl laughed, as if that answer was a joke, and moved just enough closer to reduce the distance between them. Her fingers grazed the rim of his glass, her red-lacquered fingernails tracing a circle on the cold glass.

"Can I buy you another drink?"

He finished what was in his hand in one slow sip, letting the fire from his drink trickle down his throat, and then set the empty glass on the table.

"That's not necessary"

She leaned even closer, her legs crossed in a studied way, her knee brushing against his. "Then maybe I can offer you something better"

Her fingers slid down the collar of his shirt, playing with the first open button. It was an inviting, calculated gesture, something that should have ignited a modicum of interest in him. Yet, he felt nothing. There was no excitement, no desire, just a sense of apathy that suffocated him.

But he did not back down. He could not go on like this. Maybe, this time, it could work. Maybe, this time, he would stop thinking about you.

The cab sped silently through the brightly lit streets of Seoul. Nam Gyu sat beside the girl, his head leaning against the window. He looked out, the reflection of the lights stretching across the glass, distorted like his thoughts. She was talking to him, but he wasn't really listening, occasionally nodding, occasionally hinting at a smile. He had gotten good at pretending.

When they reached his apartment, she took him by the hand and pulled him inside, without hesitation. She closed the door behind her, dropping her purse on the floor, and pushed him against the wall.

"Are you always this quiet?" she whispered, biting her lower lip as her fingers slipped over his shirt. He looked at her, searching for something in her eyes, something that might convince him she was doing the right thing. But he found nothing. Still, he let her. Her lips came to rest on his, the kiss was expert, voracious, but it didn't make him feel a single thing. Her hands touched him, sought him out, and he reciprocated out of pure automatism.

He let himself be pulled toward the bed, his breathing heavy, his body moving without his mind really being there. She pushed him down, lay on top of him, her lips tracing a trail down his neck. He closed his eyes. For a moment, just a moment, he tried to imagine that she was you. That the hands caressing him were yours. That the voice whispering his name was yours.

And then, without meaning to, without thinking about it. She had squeezed his hair vigorously. Only you could do that.

"Y/n, oh my god bunny"

The girl stopped suddenly, hearing that unfamiliar name. She stiffened and pulled away slightly, her breathing labored. "What did you say?"

Nam Gyu opened his eyes. Her own whisper still seemed to echo in the room. Your name. He had said it. He had whispered it against the lips of another girl. A heavy silence fell between them. She drew back, her eyes narrowing in a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Are you kidding?"

He did not answer. There was nothing to say. She stood up abruptly, hastily picking up her clothes scattered on the floor. "Take your ex back at this point," she spat, slipping on her jacket without even looking at him again. And then, without another word, she walked out, slamming the door behind her. Nam Gyu stood motionless, his gaze lost in the ceiling, his breathing heavy.

He closed his eyes again, but this time there was no illusion, no lie to take refuge in.

The bed was cold. And the emptiness he felt inside him seemed to have no end.

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Time had stopped making sense, your days had turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into a whole year without him. Without his burning gaze on you, without his voice to make you shiver, without his touch to always bring you back to where you started, without his caresses.

You had left without a trace, because you really needed it. Needed to change. You had changed areas, found a different job, away from those places that talked too much about him. You had deleted numbers, blocked calls, closed every door left ajar. You had even nipped relationships with people who could have brought you back, because you knew that all it took was one small crack to bring you down again.

It had been difficult at first. The sleepless nights, the phone that went silent but you kept looking at it anyway. The dreams in which he still appeared, vivid, real, with that damned ability to creep under your skin even when you didn't want him to.

And then there was the silence. Too much silence.

The mornings when you woke up with a heavy heart, a tight throat, and the knowledge that you were facing another day without him. The dumb ache of knowing that, deep down, no one had ever made you feel the way he did. Not even in the good, and especially not in the bad. But then it had become habit.

Silence had stopped being an enemy, and had begun to seem almost like a salvation, no longer having to explain to yourself why you always came back, no longer having to justify your need for him with excuses that no longer held up. And, little by little, you had begun to convince yourself that it was really over, that there was nothing left between you. That the love that had consumed you had died along with that old version of you.

But some days were harder than others. You simply woke up already in the morning in a crooked moon. You suffered from lifelong insomnia, but with him it was rare to happen, but that night it was past one, then two, then three. You were lying on the bed, the ceiling a white void that gave you no answers, darkness enveloping everything but your thoughts. Your chest ached, as if there was a weight on it, a tight knot that wouldn't untie.

You didn't know what had triggered that particular night. Maybe a familiar smell heard on the street, maybe "I Just Died in your Arms" played on the radio just that afternoon, his favorite song, maybe just the weariness of having to pretend every day that you had moved on. You had gotten out of bed with soft legs, head light. In the kitchen, the silence was deafening. You had leaned your hands against the counter closing your eyes, biting your lip to hold back the burning that rose in your throat. But it was no use. You could feel it coming. That silent pain, that grip that gripped your stomach and left no escape.

And then, without warning, the tears began to fall. Slow, heavy.

No sobs, no sound, just a silent weeping that seemed to never end. Warm drops on your cheeks, on your lips, falling onto the kitchen countertop one after another, as if your body was expelling all the pain that had been trapped inside for too long.

You felt stupid. You felt weak.

A year had passed. A bloody year. You should have been better off. You should have been free of all this. Instead, there you were, crying in the darkness of a kitchen you didn't even feel was yours, your heart still beating for him, his name trembling on your lips even though you didn't say it.

With the knowledge that, perhaps, you had never really forgotten him.

And that, perhaps, you never would.

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Rain was falling incessantly on the city's gray streets, slipping from the rooftops like tears that no one would ever wipe away. The sky was a cluster of dark clouds, and the air had that oppressive weight that precedes something inevitable. You walked aimlessly, your hands stuffed in the pockets of your jacket too light for that bitter cold, your mind clouded by thoughts that would not shut up. It was one of those days that seemed meant to break you down, no money in your wallet, no place to return to with a smile.

And now him, too. You had rebuilt your life, of course you had to, you were engaged and maybe in love but you didn't know for sure. You thought it centered on the theory that first love is forever, maybe that was why you couldn't open your heart easily to someone else. It was like a poison. But fortunately you had managed, however briefly, to be happy. It had all started that morning with a seemingly innocuous sentence, a joke said lightly, almost in jest.

"You are with me, but sometimes I feel like your head is elsewhere"

You had looked up from the empty plate, fingers fiddling with the now useless fork, your boyfriend was standing in front of you, a smile on his face, you knew him well enough to know something was up. And you knew yourself well enough to know that at that time you were not as spry as before.

"What are you talking about?" you had asked, trying not to sound defensive. He had shaken his head, the smile barely on his lips, but his eyes betrayed his frustration.

"About him"

Your breath had caught in your throat for a second. Yes, him. Nam Gyu.

He had said it out loud. Even though he had never spoken his name, that name that was no longer supposed to belong to you. You had set your fork down on the table with a clatter, trying to maintain control. "I don't want to talk about it"

"But you still think about it"

"I don't"

He had laughed, but without mirth. "Are you really sure?"

Were you? His words were a knife digging into you, slow and precise. "It doesn't matter," you had said finally, crossing your arms.

"It matters to me"

His fingers had drummed against the table, the sound rhythmic and nervous. Then he had shifted, leaning against the back of the chair, watching you with a gaze that made you feel naked, vulnerable. In that perspective, you had noticed how a little like him he looked. You were so screwed.

"I heard you in your sleep," he had said. "You call him. Not me. Him"

You had stiffened.

"No"

"Yes"

The air in the room had become heavy, unbreathable, and going back seemed impossible. "It's not my fault if-"

"If what?" he had pressed, raising his voice. "If he left you? If he destroyed you and now you think no one else can put you back together?"

You had felt your face heat up, your throat tighten. It was unfair. It was cruel. But it wasn't a lie. "If you think that, why did you stay with me?" you had retorted, your voice broken with anger and pain, "You knew my history, you ... You cannot hold my greatest weakness against me"

He had shaken his head, and for a moment had looked more tired than angry. He raised an eyebrow, not expecting me to respond that way.

"Because I thought that in time things would change"

A long silence had fallen between you. One that hurt more than words. Then he had sighed, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, not turning around before leaving. Nothing more had needed to be said. He had been right. He could not be a replacement and you were still trapped in the past. Alone again.

You had left the house only three hours later, your cheeks streaked with bitter tears, your nose red with shame. You felt the air lacking inside the crowded subway, the air saturated with the smell of rain and dampness. You had sat in a corner, your hood up, your eyes fixed on your hands entwined in your lap. Then you had seen him when you hurried downstairs. A well-dressed man with an enigmatic smile and an expression of someone who always knew more than he was saying. He had stretched a smile at you in a casual, almost distracted gesture.

"Will you play with me?" he had said, and you had almost laughed. A game. It was almost funny, maybe he was trying to cheer up your depressed mood. He had shown you two cards, one blue and one red, and you immediately knew what the game was. Ddakji. You had accepted, perhaps just out of defiance. Maybe because you needed something to take your anger out on.

Every blow you gave against the card seemed a reflection of the chaos inside you. Every pop in the air, every defeat, every burn on your skin when his hand hit your face. But then you had won and the bills had slipped through your trembling fingers. It was not the money that scared you. It was the temptation, because you needed the money. And, perhaps, you had nothing left to lose.

You had returned home sadder than before, the room was a reflection of you, you had taken off your soggy jacket and dropped it to the floor with a dull thud, you sat in the armchair cross-legged looking at the damn note.

Then the music had begun.

"Oh, I just died in your arms tonight..."

You had frozen. A chill had gone down your spine, your hands had begun to shake. That song, that damn song. The radio croaked slightly, the sound imperfect, lived-in. An old gift. One you had kept out of habit, just because it was part of you, and like a slow poison, your mind had gone back.

To him.

To the first time you had listened to that song together, lying on the bed with the rain beating against the glass. To the way he had smiled, brushing your hair away from your face with a careless gesture. To the taste of his lips, to the unspoken promise that was in every kiss. To the anger. To the longing. To everything you had tried to bury. Your gaze had slipped to the note clenched in your fist. Maybe you weren't really free. Maybe you never would have been.

──────────────୨ৎ──────────────

The metallic sound of the doll's voice was still echoing in your head.

The field was littered with motionless bodies, some lifeless, others paralyzed with fear. Blood stained the dusty ground, yet adrenaline did not allow you to dwell on that scene of terror. Your heart was beating so fast you feared it might explode. You had survived. Where the fuck had you gone? Blood, too much blood, your beautiful face was stained crimson red, you could no longer breathe regularly. But you were alive. With hands still trembling, you had turned around slowly, trying to catch your breath, to process what had just happened.

Terror made your whole body shake in a ghoulish dance, you hid your hands in the pockets of that horrible green sweatshirt. You were breathing only because you had to, only because you wanted to live again. You could not die, you were young, poor, yes, but still young. Everyone seemed too interested in money, blinded almost to want to continue. You obviously voted X, how could you continue knowing that maybe you would die next?

The bed was uncomfortable, you couldn't even eat, you were terrified, and now you were forced to play again just because of someone else's greed.

Nam Gyu no longer knew how long he had been staring into space, the spoon trembled between his fingers, he was nervous, he was in withdrawal, the bland meal had now cooled before him, but none of this mattered. He was in withdrawal and thought it was just yet another vision he had before him. But no, he had seen you. You. Across the room, far away, your back slightly bent as if you wanted to make yourself smaller, more invisible. There you were, intent on eating in silence, not drawing attention to yourself, but your face, your movements, everything about you screamed your presence like a deafening echo in his chest.

The spoon almost slipped out of his hand. His lungs closed, as if the air had suddenly become too thick for him to breathe.

One year.

But it had only taken one glance. One bloody instant to shatter every lie. He had lost you. But he had never forgotten you. And now you were there. You were real.

Your hair was longer, slightly messy, but it still looked good on you, as if it belonged to that version of you he had never known. Your face was more mature, marked by something he couldn't define. Suffering? Weariness? Or was it just time that had left its mark?

You were even more beautiful. A kind of beauty that hurt the eyes.

You looked fragile, almost ethereal, as if the world had crushed you for too long. But he knew. He knew that inside you was still that flame, that storm that had always engulfed him. He watched as you brought the spoon to your lips slowly, with no real desire to eat, with no real taste to that meal. Your movements were mechanical, lifeless, and that realization hit him like a punch to the stomach.

He bit the inside of his cheek, holding back the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. A laugh at his side abruptly brought him back to reality: Thanos, the purple-haired boy, the rapper, always stoned and a little disconnected. Sitting next to him looking relaxed, as if they hadn't just risked their lives. He was saying something, a joke maybe, but Nam Gyu couldn't follow him.

Not as long as you were there. Not as long as your breath seemed to echo in every corner of the room. Thanos followed his trajectory, turning his head sharply toward Nam Gyu "Do you know her?"

"No," he had gasped, but he still stared at you with too much intensity, without shame or modesty. Your eyes met. One moment. A single, eternal moment.

Your lips barely parted. The spoon remained suspended between your fingers, as if you had forgotten what you were doing. Nam Gyu felt the blood freeze in his veins.

You.

It was really you.

Bunny.

He had missed you.

He had missed you to death.

──────────────୨ৎ──────────────

He did not know how it had started, but Thanos had set his eyes on you from the start. He had opened the cross necklace around his neck only to pull out what looked like an ecstasy pill to Nam Gyu. He scrutinized you as if you were a fun puzzle to solve, as if he had already decided you were worth playing with.

After the fight with Player 333 he seemed more fierce than ever, his had been a test toward him, he was plotting something, and Nam Gyu knew it. Maybe he had noticed the way he was looking at you? He didn't want to talk, didn't want to hunt for some weakness. But seeing you there again had ignited that flame in him that he was unlikely to extinguish now. He felt the fire sprinkle in him everywhere, how delirious.

Thanos was serious, approaching you with that relaxed walk of his, his head slightly tilted, as if everything was a big joke and he was the only one who knew the punchline.

Nam Gyu could tell from your eyes, from that little glint, that you were amused. Maybe from his dilated pupils. Okay it's done, it's going to be really funny.

He clenched his fists inside his pockets, his fingernails digging into his palm. Thanos was already in front of your figure, his face tilted in a theatrical gesture, while you were still trying to finish your cross-legged meal.

"Hey, Señorita"

Nam Gyu felt the blood boiling in his veins, you barely looked up from your meal, the spoon suspended in midair. You tilted your head, watching him curiously.

"Señorita?" you repeated with a smile that, however small, was enough to annoy Nam Gyu. That symptom of belonging. You had never been engaged, not officially, but at the club his friends always tried to stay away from you.

"Yes." Thanos nodded slowly, with that air of a sassy kid who enjoyed pushing himself. "I've decided I'm going to call you that. It sounds better than your number, doesn't it?"

"I don't like it"

Thanos clutched his shoulders. Nam Gyu forced himself to look away. He felt his own breathing becoming heavier, his chest rising and falling with effort. He had no right to be annoyed. He had no right to intervene. Yet, he felt the need to do so.

You chuckled, lowering your gaze to your meal.

"Join my team, and I will protect you at all costs"

Another laugh. Light, almost distracted. Yet every time Nam Gyu heard it, it was like a punch in the stomach. He hadn't heard you laugh like that in a long time. Not with him. Not for him. He was the one who knew every expression on your face, every nuance in your voice, and yet, there you were now, smiling with someone else.

And then, as if that were not enough, your eyes shifted to him. You were doing it on purpose, it was so predictable. You hadn't seen him in years. Years in which you had tried to forget the sound of his voice, the way his touch could burn your skin, the look with which he had always made you feel naked, exposed, vulnerable. You had vowed never to think of him again, to rebuild yourself, to erase his name from your mind. But when your eyes had landed on him in that bare, stuffy dormitory, time had stood still.

He had changed. Thinner, harder. His face seemed carved in stone, his black eyes were duller, more hollowed out. Did he have new tattoos? For a moment, you had seen a spark of something familiar before he looked away.

"So now you want to impress me?" you had told him, as Thanos sat down next to you just to talk some more.

──────────────୨ৎ──────────────

Nam Gyu sat in a corner, his body motionless, his hands intertwined in front of his face. He was trying to ignore it. He was trying to ignore the discomfort that knotted in his stomach every time Thanos spoke to you. But then, Thanos spoke.

"Strange," he said, with his usual arrogant smile, his eyes cast toward the piggy bank. "I didn't think you were the type to let a woman like that go"

Nam Gyu did not react. Not right away. Thanos understood. He was high and only wanted to annoy him.

"Or maybe," he continued, tilting his head slightly, "you never really had her?"

A deep breath. Absolute control. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Why are you talking about things that don't concern you?"

Thanos laughed softly, with the confidence of someone who knows he has the upper hand. He leaned in slightly closer, as if deliberately trying to provoke him.

"Because it amuses me," he whispered. "Because I want her. Because you had her in your hands and threw her away like an idiot"

Nam Gyu clenched his jaw, still silence. Still checking. Yes, he was an idiot. Yes, he was wrong. Yes, his heart still burned for you.

"But maybe it was for the best," Thanos continued, the grin becoming more and more evident. "She is free now."

The bed creaked in an instant, Nam Gyu stood, his breath short, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes burning with pure rage. Thanos smiled even wider. "Ah, so you still feel something? What a surprise"

"Leave her alone"

Thanos stared at him, and for the first time a shadow of caution flashed in his eyes. He was only joking. "What is it you call her? Bunny? Bro, you're really fucked up to call her in your sleep. Maybe you should-"

Nam Gyu moved even closer, his gaze now a bottomless abyss. His sweatshirt sleeves were up, Thanos noticed his scars, from when he was piercing himself. He took his necklace with a dry gesture, opening it in front of him, Nam Gyu's eyes lit up with something all too intense.

Thanos studied him for a long moment, then tossed him the pill, the smile barely noticeable. "Don't worry, champion. I don't want any trouble. At least not yet"

──────────────୨ৎ──────────────

You could not sleep. The need to go to the bathroom had become impossible to ignore; you were so terrified that you hadn't thought about your physiological needs at all. You had risen cautiously, slipping away from your bed without a sound, moving like a shadow among the huddled bodies. You crossed the dark room, the faint red and blue lights on the floor were blinding. When you reached the door, the guard behind the glass looked impassive.

"You can't get out"

The metallic voice rang through the device, cold and impersonal. You paused, your breath suspended for a moment.

"I need to go to the bathroom." Your voice was firm, but your body tense, but the guard remained still. Not an ounce of sympathy. Clenching your fists, the idea of having to stay there, of being denied even that slightest freedom, made your blood boil in your veins.

"If you'd rather I do it here, be my guest and watch"

The guard did not move. He did not respond. Nervousness burned under your skin. Your instinct told you that you would never be able to convince him, because you couldn't even convince yourself. Do it in front of everyone, even if they were asleep? That was out of the question. But then, a presence behind you.

"What's the problem?"

His voice. Low. Deep. Strange. A shiver went down your spine even before you turned around. He was there, so close you could feel the heat behind you. His gaze, heavy as a mark on your skin, did not leave the guard in front of you.

"She just needs to go to the bathroom"

The guard did not move, "It is not allowed at night"

Nam Gyu took a step closer. "Not allowed?" His voice dropped a tone, becoming darker, more dangerous. "Either you let her pass, or we make a scene. But I guess you don't want to attract attention, right?"

The guard was impassive, as always, and he was so close, and you desperately needed the bathroom.

Nam Gyu looked at him as if he could break him in two with a single glance, resting his hand on your back. "Don't be an asshole," his voice was pure threat. "Open that door."

A second of absolute tension, then finally the guard opened the door. As soon as the door opened, Nam Gyu gently grabbed your wrist, guiding you out without another word. He walked in front of you, determined, his shoulders broad and tense. His grip on your wrist had barely loosened, but the contact between your skins was still there, alive, electric. Reaching the bathroom door, he stopped, you turned toward him, finally meeting his gaze. He was staring at you in a way that almost made you hold your breath.

His eyes were dilated, shiny, you remembered, because you had those eyes too, then you had decided that ruining your life was not the thing and stopped. Only when you had turned away from him had you felt the air lacking. So close, you could touch him, just reach out. All you had to do was ... No, you couldn't. Not now that you were both vulnerable.

"What an honor to know you still care about me," you barely whispered, he tightened his lips into a single line, he wanted to speak, he wanted to stop you. He wanted to... He didn't know anymore either. You had entered the bathroom not knowing that he had followed you quickly. You had done everything in a hurry, not wanting to upset the masked men.

Water ran over your cold hands as you rubbed them under the rusty jet of the sink, trying desperately to concentrate on the monotonous noise that echoed in the small room. But the only presence you could feel was his.

He was there, standing still against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his body relaxed in that silent arrogance that had always driven you crazy. His dark eyes watched you with an intensity that seemed to dig into you, making you feel vulnerable, as if he saw every thought hidden behind your impassive facade.

You knew he was watching you. He was devouring you with his eyes. You breathed deep, trying to find the voice to break that nerve-wracking wait.

"You can leave, you know"

The sound of your words echoed in the small room, but he did not move. Then he slowly left his position against the door and took a few steps toward you, slow, studied. Curse.

"Still playing hard to get" His voice was low, rough, with that undertone of danger you had come to know well. You felt your heart quicken as the reflection in the small mirror above the sink returned his figure to you, getting closer and closer. And then-the contact. His hands. Warm, sure, terribly familiar.

His hands rested on your hips with devastating naturalness, his fingers sliding lazily along the elastic of your sweatpants. A shiver ran down your spine, your breath jamming for an instant.

"Don't touch me. Back away," but you had arched your back so pathetically that your words betrayed themselves. He knew that your breathing had just changed. He knew that your body was already responding to his.

"Really?"

His tone was a challenge-laden whisper, his mouth close to your ear, his warm breath brushing against your skin. He moved even closer, his chest almost touching your back. The warmth of his body against yours made you shiver. And then, you felt it. His erection, how much he wanted you, and the tip of his thumb sliding slowly under the fabric of your panties. A very light, almost accidental touch.

You stiffened instantly, your fingers gripping around the edge of the sink tightly, as if it were the only thing holding you up.

"Stop it"

Nam Gyu smiled against your neck, a smile you couldn't see but felt all over.

"Lie"

His hand moved another inch, his fingers playing with the hem of the fabric, lazily caressing the soft skin beneath it. Your breath grew shorter, the heat spreading along your skin like a slow poison.

"You always said you hated it when I did that"

His voice was low, hypnotic, dangerously close.

"And I hate it." You tried to maintain control, to ignore the way your body responded to his touch. But he laughed softly, a deep sound that made you shudder.

"Stop your bullshit. Can't you hear how much I want you, bunny." That name. That damn name that had always made you melt.

You had bitten your lip, hating yourself for the way your body seemed to give out without you being able to stop it. Stop, stop, stop.

"Go away, Nam Gyu"

He did not move; rather, he let his lips barely graze the skin behind your ear, his hot breath making you tremble.

"Tell me you don't want this"

"Tell me you hate me"

You hated him. You hated him because he knew you would never say it. When his hand reached your opening, opening it with two fingers, your breath was ragged, you had rested your head on his shoulder you could see his face looking down at you.

"Is that a no?" he turned several times between your folds as he gave you pleasure and you closed your eyes. Maybe it was his twisted way of enjoying himself. Maybe he liked seeing you tremble under his intense gaze, knowing that he could destabilize you. Or maybe he simply wanted what he couldn't have.

"He's on you like a hungry dog," Nam Gyu had whispered, his voice low, laden with venom, as he kissed your neck. He was talking about Thanos, you knew; he was jealous because you were still his stuff.

"None of your business," you had replied, your heart pounding in your chest. He had removed his fingers from your pussy too quickly, grabbing your hair with a tug, you had already complained about his distance.  "Yes it is my business. I see your face in my nightmares, I can't touch a woman after you anymore.... bunny, don't you understand?" his eyes were black, damned, you felt your intimacy melt deprived by your orgasm. But you were bursting.

"You reduce yourself to this! I am not a piece of meat! I loved you and you just exploited my weakness, my love to your liking!" before he could continue torturing you, his hand let go of your hair, you were looking at your bodies through the mirror, him behind you, and you trembling in front. Your pants slightly pulled down over your legs, his hand continuing to pull them down.

"You are more than a piece of meat"

"You didn't give me a way to think that, though" you had turned around, now you were face to face. His cheeks red, his eyes half-closed, as he grasped your cheeks with his palms as if to lock them in.

"Maybe we won't get out of here alive, bunny," he sighed, playing with your hair; it was the drug, you knew. "Maybe I'll die. But at least I was lucky enough to see you one last time"

"You're not in you. That's the drug talking"

Your still damp hands clenched against the fabric of his suit. You stared at him, your breath short, your eyes struggling to stay cold, not to betray the fire he always managed to ignite. He smiled. A game. Always the same, the one where he pushed and you tried to resist. Only this time the bathroom walls seemed to close in on you, the breath of both of you was too close, and the air was thick with something you could no longer ignore.

"You're always the same," he continued, his tone softer, almost bitter. "Always ready to say no to me"

You didn't know what to say, you were like stuck, still too shaken.

"You like to drive me crazy, don't you?"

You didn't have time to answer. His hands closed around your face, "Please, bunny, kiss me" It was that closeness you knew, it was that you couldn't stand it anymore, to say enough. It was the fear, the fear of dying in a place like that. It was too strong, and painful but his lips touched yours without any warning. It was a violent, hungry, angry kiss. No gentleness, no attempt to hold back. Just years of anger, repressed desire and unspoken words exploding all at once.

Your fingers slid into his hair, squeezing hard as his body pushed you against the sink again. Your mouths sought each other, taking, biting.

He moaned against your lips, his tongue sank deeper into your mouth, as if he wanted to claim you, as if he wanted to remind you that, in spite of everything, he had never really let you go.

And the worst of it was that you didn't want to stop him. Never. Not even when he turned you over for the second time, and bent you over the cold sink, his erection pressing against your butt was just yet another signal about how much he was treating himself. How many times he had dreamed that you were the woman he had between the sheets, your face, your hair, your lips.

"Nam Gyu," you had said, trying not to wince as he slid down your sweatpants and panties. His body was pressed against your bottom, his hair in front of his face and his hands clasped around your hips.

"Do you know how much I've missed you?" was a rhetorical question, sure enough, your head was foggy and your legs gave out. You were all wet, he found it funny. It was sloppy, all so fast, his breath on your neck and the tip of his cock already inside you. You lifted your butt higher toward him, because you wanted more, you were addicted, "Fuck"

"How I had missed your voice" he muttered, as his hand grabbed your hair, pulling you back toward him kissing your neck. You weren't protesting, you couldn't do anything more, you were exhausted and confused completely loose under him. His hands were everywhere, reaching for your breasts under your bra.

"Hurry the fuck up, I'm going crazy"

Your breath took away as he began to giggle and then grabbed you with far too much force as he fucked you in that fatal position. It was your head spinning, sweat soaked into your forehead. You felt it all, his tongue on your neck and moans against your ear. You were so hungry for him but so little in control of your person, "We are both doomed, you know, bunny"

"I know"

You had been struck by time, out of control, and for that night you had been his again. He couldn't get enough of it. Then a soft knock against the door. There were a few thrusts, unrestrained like animals possessing themselves. He stepped out of your frustrated womanhood, pulling your hair back from your neck and laying a chaste kiss on it. You had rested your head on the sink, your cheek flattened, and your face formulated a small smile. Your legs completely filled with him. You were cursed, yes. You were alive, again.

"I love you"

MASTERLIST.

[shotmrmiller]

PAUSE! OH MY GOD. writing a soap smut got me thinking. 

As a medic in base, you see the 141 guys all the time. Whether in passing or because they get injured, you’re always interacting with them. Your particular lack of response at Ghost’s irritated glare after reprimanding him for being unable to keep his stitches intact during training is what solidified your friendship with Johnny— what Soap tells you to call him.

Every time Johnny goes out, he likes to drag you along and this is where you notice peculiar interactions between him and Ghost.

The way Ghost gives Soap Johnny his full attention when he’s speaking, turning his entire body to face him, even if it’s something completely trivial. Or how Johnny stresses over Ghost who’s injured on your med table and Ghost will comfort him. When going on a mission, if one goes, so does the other.

You wonder if there's something else going on.

—

You get your answer.

One day you’re knocking on Johnny’s door because it wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried to weasel out of a physical. You’d think getting shot would hurt more than a vaccine but here you are— about to twist his scottish ear off. The door finally opens, and you barge in because you aren’t about to cause a scene in the middle of the hallway when you freeze. 

Ghost is in Johnny's room, lying on the bed. If looks could kill, Ghost’s would’ve leveled the base. And he’s naked under the sheets— if that tree trunk-sized bulge is what you think it is. It doesn't even look hard. Bloody hell. 

You shift your gaze towards Soap, and your eyes drop— he's clad in nothing but a towel that hangs dangerously low on his hips. 

Massive. These men just walkin’ round with weapons in their pants.

Shaking off those thoughts, you shift your attention to his face.

“Meet me at the clinic in 10 or so help me god, Johnny.” and walk out the door.

You hear a muffled "Yes ma'am" , and a hiss escapes your lips.

That cocky smile Johnny had means he definitely saw you ogling them. 

—

A week passes and it’s a friday. You can’t wait to lock yourself in your barracks room and watch movies the entire weekend— you plan to start as soon as you're off the clock.

And then other medics twist your arm into going out for drinks.

Now you find yourself seated at a table in a lively bar, indulging in shots of tequila. As you glance around, your eyes catch sight of Soap and Ghost standing near the bartender. It appeared that some woman is talking to Johnny and he has a polite, detached smile on his face. Always too kind to strangers.

Then she starts caressing his thigh.

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. Right in front of Ghost’s salad? You lock eyes with Ghost and he looks murderous. Jesus.

You usually don't stick your nose in others' business, but if you don’t intervene, Ghost might actually kill her in her sleep. Besides, tequila has always made you bold.

With a confident stride, you make your way towards Johnny and remove that woman’s hand before settling yourself snugly on his lap— and you wrap his arms around your waist.

“And who is this?” you ask Soap, but the girl questions back.

“No. Who are you?” 

Bitch. 

Curling your upper lip, you answer, “I’m the one he comes in every night hoping it takes. Now leave before I make you,” completely ignoring the massive bulge pressing up into your arse.

She looks at you with a bewildered expression, but doesn't move so you finish off with, "Try it. Just a warning though, it'll be hard to fight when the fight ain't fair."

You cock your head to the side with a taunting expression and the woman scoffs before walking away. Noticing she left her almost full drink behind, you give it to the bartender to toss in the trash. She's just gonna have to get another one.

Your act comes to an end, so you shift to stand up— and realize that the arms encircling your waist tighten, keeping you on his lap. His clothed cock.

“Ye didnae think we’d let ye go after yer little show, did ye?” 

Unless Johnny’s speaking french, he just said we. You'd be nervous but you aren't about to decline what could be the best sex of your life. The want you feel in Soap's pants has you riding a certain high— it makes you feel confident.

Grabbing onto the edge of the bartop, you swivel the stool you're on to face Ghost. 

“And this okay with you? I wouldn’t be stepping on any toes, or nothin’?”

Ghost swiftly lifts you from Johnny's lap and places you onto his own.

“Does this answer your question?” and draws you closer before grinding his erection against you.

And it sure as hell does. Slapping the counter, you ask for some water. If this night is going to end with you sandwiched between these two, you want to remember all of it.

reader's a boss ass bitch. GET IT CHILE.

[revelboo]

Alcohol Eyes

Chapter One

18+

“Come on. It’ll be fun. The boss will never know.” Why is that when Frenzy grins at him like that, he can never manage to say no? Just going along with whatever stupidity Frenzy wants. Like this. Venting raggedly as the chaos roils and moves like a living thing around him.

The music is louder than he expected. Almost a living thing and a soft body brushes against him, swaying with the thump of the heavy bass pulsing through the club. And frag, where’s Frenzy? Had taken his optics off his twin for barely a klik and somehow he’s disappeared into the throng of bodies, the flashing neon lights dazzling his optics when he tries to pick him out in the crowd. Even though he’s taller than the humans around him, so Frenzy is, too. And he's beginning to suspect that he’s been ditched. Around him, the humans laugh and dance, costumed extravagantly and mostly overenergized from what he can tell. It’s an odd feeling, to be accepted by them. To belong. Knows they think he’s just another partier in a costume, that if they knew what he really was they’d run, but still. He can pretend for now. A human with cat ears presses a red plastic cup into his hands in passing and he cautiously lifts it to smell. Lip curling, he pushes his way into the dancers.

And okay, maybe it’s freeing in a way. To pretend to be one of them. It’s not like there’s many left their size anymore. Most didn’t survive the war. Knows the only reason he, Frenzy, and the other cassettes have survived this long is because of Soundwave. That others didn’t have a protector and that they’re a dying breed. It’s not like there had been that many of them to begin with even before the war. Most of them labor or outright, glorified slaves if their altmode made them useful to the upper classes. Can see why Frenzy had wanted to sneak out to the club. Here they can forget the war and play pretend.

A laughing human falls into him and steals his little plastic cup, before disappearing back into the crowd and he vents in amusement, tension beginning to ease. Yeah, he understands why his brother had hounded him to come with him. Almost envying the little humans, the bright manic energy of them. No worries. No stress.

“Wow, you’re tall.” Startling at the low voice and the feel of soft fingers catching his servos, he turns. And finds a little human looking up at him, grinning brightly. Even after spending time with Star’s human, he can’t get over how strange humans look. Soft all over and eerily almost Cybertronian in shape. A pair of crooked, feathered wings droop from your back, one wing partially crushed and your top covering is a bit torn. “You went all out, huh?” Before he can shake you off, you’re sliding a palm up over his chassis. Do you think he’s someone else? And Primus, help him, but your hands are soft. Sees your expression grow pinched when someone yells and it’s so strange to have to look down at someone.

Not expecting at all for you to reach up or for those incredibly soft hands to cup his helm and pull him down to you. And there’s no thought of resisting. You couldn’t hurt him even if you want to and he’s curious. Surprised by your boldness. Definitely not expecting you to go up on your toes and press that warm mouth of yours against his and the kiss runs electric through him, your biofield brushing against his. Your scent, taste overwhelming him.

Heart racing frantically, you cling to your big new friend. Somewhere behind you, there’s the sound of your ex calling your name and you tug at your buddy slipping between him and the guy hunting for you as your mouth moves against his. As buzzy as you are, your ex is wasted and you have no intention of letting him get his rough hands on you ever again. You have enough scars for a lifetime.

No, you’d rather take your chances with a complete stranger in a weirdly elaborate costume. And he’s got to be sweating in all that, because it feels like actual metal panels against you, thankfully warm. Can almost admire his commitment even though you don’t get it. Maybe a LARPer? Cosplayer? Whatever he is, he’s your shield right now. Unwittingly protecting you.

Can hear your ex call your name again and he’s right there, bound to see you any moment as you pray he’ll pass by. That this guy keeps playing along. Not expecting for him to curl an arm around you to cup the back of your head or for the other big hand to grip your butt and drag you flush up against him.

And those hands are warm as his mouth moves against yours, taking over the kiss and making it something demanding and hungry and deliciously unexpected. Lips parting on a surprised gasp, he takes advantage, glossa stealing inside. Exploring you, glossa sliding against your tongue and there’s a faint metallic bite to his taste you can’t pin down. Maybe a vape pen? Feel his servos tangle in your hair, his other hand flexing on your butt like he thinks you’re going to escape.

And you feel your blood heat in response. Isn’t this why you’d come out tonight? To get over the jerk and the hurt by getting under someone new? Or better yet, riding your big, new friend until sunrise? And he’s definitely the lead contender out of the guys you’d chatted with tonight. No one else has managed to pique your attention. But if he fucks like he kisses, you’re not letting him get away. Know this isn’t the healthiest way to deal with how messed up your life is, but there’s something so satisfying in just not giving a damn and going for the instant gratification. Tomorrow is a problem for future you. Which is exactly how you ended up with your ex, something you’re painfully aware of. Because bad, impulsive decisions? They’re your calling card.

Breaking free of his kiss, he groans a protest, mouth brushing against the corner of yours, along your cheek. Hand trying to turn your head back toward him. “Slow down, sport,” you manage, voice lower and huskier as you nip at his bottom lip and he makes a noise that goes straight through you. Did he just growl at you? Did you just think it was hot as hell?

“Don’t go,” he says, big hands not letting go. Those words aren’t a request, they’re a heated demand. And oh, it’s tempting. No one’s ever kissed you like that before, hungry and almost desperate. Reaching up, you curl your arms around his neck and his own grip becomes possessive. Even if you’d come to the party alone, you’re determined to not leave that way and your unwitting hero deserves a real thank you.

“Maybe we can make this a private party?” You ask as his mouth finds your neck, lips branding a heated trail over your skin. Feeling the barest slip of denta threatening to nip your skin to send need shivering through you.

Primus help him as you mold yourself to him, little hands clinging and fingers dipping into seams. Almost groaning when his little human leans back to put some space between you. Because that’s the last thing he wants. Spike aching where it’s trapped behind plating. Aching for a human and knows he should care about that. At least be a little bit concerned, but honestly he’s more focused on finding out if your species can fit together that way, because if you can’t take his spike, he might just offline.

“Please,” he growls, catching your upper arm and hating to beg. Bumping his helm against you, he can feel your warm breath on him.

His servos flex against soft skin, wanting to pull you back to him. Wanting more as he drops his head against the crook of your neck, mouth finding and chasing the quick beat of your pulse and tasting salt on your skin. Hearing that husky laugh of yours that spreads warm through him to wind him tight as his palms slide over your soft body. And his spike pulses. Why had he been so against coming here? He loves it here, loves the noise and press of bodies. Especially yours as he does drag you back to him. While he’s not entirely sure what you mean by a private party, he has an idea and he’s hoping his guess is right.

Lets you tug him along to the other side of the club through the crush of bodies to a door and you fumble with it until you get it open and pull him inside with you. And the space is dimly lit and cluttered. But it is private. Hears the click of the lock and pulls you back into his frame, servos sliding over you, trying to figure out your coverings.

Venting roughly against your throat, he spans your middle with a big hand and you reach back to loop an arm around his neck. “Slow down, I’m not going anywhere,” you say, reaching back your other hand to run warm fingers over the plating of his thigh. “You want to take off the costume?”

“No,” he growls, his own hand sliding down your belly, exploring with hesitant touches along the waist band of your jeans. “No.” The word is more insistent, almost desperate when you catch his wrist, because he can’t stand for you to stop him. Afraid you’re about to pull his hand away. Shuddering against your back when you guide his hand down the front of your clothes, showing him where you need him.

Venting raggedly, he cups slick, warm flesh and finds your core to slip a servo inside. Almost losing it at the way your heat grips him. “That’s good,” you whisper, leaning your upper body across a container, thighs spreading to give him more access to stroke deeper, his spike aching to be freed. Pulling his hand free to try and figure out how to undo your coverings has you laughing again, the sound stroking over him and so sweet. “No chill at all, huh?” Shifting to undo that little button and push your pants down. No, he doesn’t have any chill or restraint, wanting this. Needing it as he nudges you back down on your front over the container, freeing his spike to grip himself and slide his length against you. Slicking his spike with you. “Wait, my purse. I think I have some-” you’re saying as he finds you and slowly buries himself inside that wet, welcoming heat. “Never mind,” you moan, and you’re so unbelievably tight around his spike.

“Frag you’re tight,” he groans, venting raggedly at the feel of you. And you move against him, pushing yourself back and then he’s thrusting into you despite wanting to savor the feel of you wrapped so tightly around him, that sense of connection he’d been sure he’d never have because of his size, because of his modifications. You’re so small under him as he ruts against you, using his grip on your hips to pull you back to meet the urgent drive of his hips. Hearing the wet sounds of your body taking his and your low, needy sounds that are only for him, because this? It’s his. You’re his.

So much for condoms, but as that thick length stretches and strokes inside you, there’s no worrying about anything beyond chasing pleasure. He’s not holding back, hips snapping against yours, moving hard and deliciously fast. And he is growling, hands flexing on your hips as his frantic thrusts drive you to that peak, then tip you over the edge. Draping himself against your back with a deep drive of his hips, his mouth against the back of your shoulder. Feel as his thrusts falter, bucking deep to release inside you on a groan. Shivering, you feel his mouth brush against your neck. “Rumble,” he growls against your skin, hips still moving in shallow, lazy thrusts and you can feel his excess on your inner thigh. And it takes a minute to figure out that he’s given you a name. A gamer tag maybe? Or a nickname?

Laying your cheek on your outstretched arm, head turning to look back at him from the corner of your eye, you feel his mouth brush against your shoulder. Smiling when he hesitantly reaches to slide sweat slick hair back from your temple, the intimate gesture stealing your breath for a moment. “Hi, Rumble,” you murmur, laughing softly when he presses himself tighter against you. Can still feel him hard inside you

He hasn’t taken off any of his costume except what he’d needed to free himself to fuck you. It’s weird, but not a deal breaker. Not with the lazy way your thighs are trembling or how he’d felt, still feels, inside you. “Can we go again?” He asks so earnestly, so hopefully, and you rock yourself against him in answer. Because while you’d only wanted a quickie to thank him, you’re wondering, praying, he’s single. Because the almost reverent way his big hands slide against your skin, the press of his mouth against your spine in a hungry kiss? This guy’s going to ruin you.

“Careful,” you manage, feeling his mouth brushing against whatever skin he can reach. “I might take you home if you keep that up.” Eyes closing when he begins lazily thrusting again. “You alone, Rumble?”

You feel like you can almost see the guy’s eyes through that red visor. With how dim the store room is, it’s hard to be sure. He’ll probably think you were joking, but really? Your new friend fucks like an animal. Definitely not a quickie one and done like your ex. And taking him home? Keeping him at least a few days to get him out of your system by getting him into your bed? Oh, so tempting an idea. Especially since his hips are rocking against you. Ready to go again already? This guy isn’t human.

“I’m with you,” he murmurs, hips pumping. And oh, he’s so innocent. Maybe you can ruin him instead. Because keeping the guy is so tempting.

[forthechubbies]

Puppy treat II 🦴

Alpha!Hybrid!BC X Omega! Human!Reader

Your new neighbors are often noisy so you finally get enough courage pay them a visit..... with cookies.♡

Warning! Scenting,heavy petting, pheromones, and a love drunken reader.

Bold= speaking Korean ♡

🌸Previously🌸

Chan moved in a couple of inches; you took a moment to let your eyes linger around his beautiful features. Kiss him ♡ He'll take good care of us. Just look at those biceps and sweet smile. ♡♡ Your eyes widen. What the heck are you thinking?! He's a stranger.

🌸On This Chapter 🌸 🔞 (Beware)

I just wanted to let you know that two days have passed since you met the gentlemen residing above you. Quite frankly, you started the theory of being stalked yet this isn't the unsavory part, it revolves around your shiver of involuntary anticipation.

Every encounter involves him being the prince and you the damsel in disguise whether it’s physically or emotionally. He’s at your aid. The moments happen so romantically as if written by millions of hopeless romance authors, The inevitable feeling of heaven and peace is infinite…to your dismay?

The question mark symbolizes the nagging need to be in his big strong arms. My goodness, have you seen him? He’s so shy but.strong.very strong. A sweetheart with a temper but is too much of a gentleman to show it.

You would scream into your pillow as you recall leaning into his embrace, the warmth of his body enveloping you as he carried you down the stairs you nearly tumbled down. "And gently down," he chuckled sheepishly, his accent thick with that unmistakable Aussie charm.

His laughter, a deep, comforting rumble, resonated in your ears as he allowed your cute feet to touch the dirty earth, much to his dismay. "There you are," he murmured, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and adoration. The moment lingered in your mind, a perfect blend of tenderness and the feel of his rough hands.

You started to grow concerned about your own mental health. Are you that desperate for love? You're willing to run into the arms of a handsome stranger. He could be a serial killer who specializes in taxidermy on humans.

You shivered at the thought, then screamed when your doorbell suddenly went off. At this hour? You peeked outside into the hot night setting your eyes on a beautiful bouquet in a vase. You gasped, immediately giving the vibrant flowers a home.

An white envelope appears from underneath. Slightly soggy but still legible. The hand note was heartwarming regarding your delicious cookies including a p.s in different penmanship. Your cookies are always welcomed~Love, Jeongin.

Jeongin? Was that his name?....Your eyelashes fluttered. The name is befitting on him. You though." Jeongin?" How handsome.

The sunlight and crispy dew air brought the horrible realization, you've been baking all night. Even scarier you don't remember starting and yet you were staring down two jars of chocolate chips cookies..from scratch. You gasp looking at the warm welcome of the sun rising through your kitchen window.

You're alarm blared your fears. It's time for work. You shoved soiled apron aside to rush to start your daily routine. In no time, You're prep, gorgeous, and ready for work.

...

Later in that Afternoon

Tired so tired. You thought dragging yourself home after your way home broke down yet you're brain had space for gratitude. You aren't that far along. You can only imagine how you look, heels in hand, sweaty, and disshuffled-

Sniff..Sniff..

You screamed at the sudden appearance of a stranger sniffing behind your ear, even hopping away from the young man. "What are you crazy?!" He was startled by your yelling, backing up but not running away.

Which frightened you. Yet you stood your ground. "Creep." You spat before walking past him. However, you can't ever have a normal day.

"Wait a minute!" He dropped to his knees, wrapping his thick forearms around your thighs and hips. "Mmm-hmm. Mmm." His muffled words were drowned out in the fabric of your pencil skirt.

Side note: Since your last intense encounter, you've discovered the language they speak is Korean, something rather pleasant to your ears.

Warm..Soft...smells sweet. Meg? (Omega) She smells too amazing just to be an average human.

Oddly enough, you didn't mind. A sense of warmth fulled your chest as his cheeks nuzzled against your thighs. Mmm, I should tell Hyung....right after a couple more sniffs.

It wasn’t til you're hand graced his head. He froze, looking up at you with round eyes.

"Please stop sniffing me." The warmth radiating from your flushed cheeks and the quiver in your voice stirred a deep instinct within him. He stood tall, wrapping you in his arms. "Ah—You!" Your nails dug into the taut muscles of his forearms as his lips hovered teasingly near the delicate skin behind your ear. You struggled against his grip, but to your dismay, your body surrendered to his captivating presence.

A burning, intoxicating wave enveloped you, irresistible limerence flowing through your veins, rendering your knees weak and quaking. Lost in the moment, you had no idea how completely you were yielding to him until a low growl rumbled from his throat, his powerful arms encircling your delicate waist, holding you steady as you surrendered to the heat of his vanilla musk.

The aroma enveloped you instantly, emanating from him as he drew closer, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. With each tantalizing caress of his tongue against the sensitive curve behind your ear, he unraveled the tightly wound threads of your sanity, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

You remained still, paralyzed by a mix of desire and fear, unwilling to break the spell. His grip on you tightened, and the deep, primal growls that escaped his lips sent shivers down your spine. Surely, you must be imagining it all.

Bangchan's Pov

“You’re cheating!” Felix’s voice rang out, sharp and accusatory, as his eyes narrowed at me.

My mouth fell open in exaggerated disbelief. “What?” I gasped, trying—and failing—to look innocent.

Shit. He’d caught on. Three whole rounds of expertly bending the rules, and now he decides to notice? Typical Felix.

There was something undeniably funny about riling him up, though. Watching him throw the Uno cards down on the porch table like they’d personally betrayed him was prime entertainment. His face was a mix of outrage and betrayal, which only made it harder not to laugh.

“Come on, Philly,” I said, feigning contrition as I pressed a hand to my chest. “I’m sorry. Truly. Sit back down, please?”

But Felix wasn’t buying it. He stood there, arms crossed, eyes narrowing further. “You’ve been doing this the whole time, haven’t you?”

“Absolutely not!” I lied, my voice dripping with mock sincerity. Then, unable to resist giggling at Felix's cute pout. " Ah, no-aw. I'm sorry, Philly. Let's play again" Chan smooths the conversation over in his soft baby voice.

Felix groaned, throwing his hands in the air. “Unbelievable. You’re impossible.”And yet, he still dragged his chair back to the table with a huff, ready to deal another round.

Till-

“I said I’m playing with you! Why are you growling at me?” Chan shot Felix a look, half amused, half exasperated.

Felix, ever the drama king, arched his shoulders like some oversized feline preparing to pounce. A deeper, more menacing growl rumbled from his chest—but it was anything but serious.

“Wah!” Chan’s eyebrows shot up as his eyes widened, startled by the almost demonic sound. He laughed, clapping his hands. “Woah, holy shit!” His cheer filled the space, but his amusement started to fade as something else pulled at his senses.

A faint irritation bubbled up, not from Felix’s antics but from…something else. His nose wrinkled slightly as he caught a strange whiff in the air. It wasn’t strong, but it was enough to distract him.

“What the hell is that?” Chan muttered under his breath, the grin slipping from his face as his attention flicked away from Felix, who was still hamming it up for dramatic effect.

Felix paused, straightening up, his playful growl cutting off mid-sound. “What’s wrong?”

Chan blinked, shaking his head. “Nothing. Maybe. I don’t know… Did you smell that?”

Felix smirked, leaning in closer with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Smell what? Your fear?”Chan rolled his eyes but couldn’t shake the creeping sense that something wasn’t quite right.

Author's pov

Please, don't let me go.

Your feet hadn’t touched the ground in what felt like an eternity. For the past thirty minutes, he had kept you suspended in his arms, your legs dangling as he held you impossibly close. His lips claimed yours again and again, his hunger evident in every lingering kiss. The world had long faded away, replaced only by him.

Now, cradled in his arms, he carried you closer to his home—somewhere more private, more his.

Finally, he pulled back, just enough to let his eyes roam over you. His gaze trailed slowly, possessively, admiring the fresh marks blooming across your neck and the curve of your breasts. A smirk played at his lips, dark and seductive.

“Let me bite you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with allure. “We can be together forever, hm? Little Meg.”

His sharp eyes traced the soft contours of your face, devouring every detail. Your wide, trusting eyes clung to his every word, your chest rising and falling in rhythm with his.

“You got an itch a human can’t scratch?” he added, his tone playful and light, starkly contrasting to the delicious greed simmering beneath. His meaning was clear, his intent unmistakable—a hunger so deep, it bordered on madness.

The stranger leaned in, his breath brushing against your ear like a forbidden secret. “Nod. Yes.”

Your head tilted as if tethered to his command, a slow, delicate movement. Your sweet, plump lips parted slightly, caught in a haze of confusion and surrender.

“Woah,” he chuckled, a boyish disbelief lighting his features. His voice was laced with awe, as though discovering a hidden superpower. “That’s... cool. What’s your name?”

But no answer came—just a soft, kitten-like purr that escaped your lips as you nuzzled closer, nestling yourself in his arms. Your soft curves pressed against him, your warmth an intoxicating tease he hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t shy. It wasn’t cautious. It was unfiltered affection, and it left him speechless.

“Well... I’m Jeongin,” he murmured, almost distracted, as he instinctively adjusted his hold on you. You fit too perfectly in his embrace, like you belonged there.

The sound of hurried footsteps shattered the delicate moment.

“Jeongin!” Hyunjin’s sharp voice broke through the air, his panic unmistakable. He stormed towards you both, his face a storm of frustration and alarm. “What the hell are you doing?! Are you insane?” His voice dropped to a harsh whisper, wary of drawing unwanted attention. “Do you even realize how obvious this is? I could smell the both of you from a mile away! Hyung is going to kill you—”

Jeongin interrupted his tone quieter but tinged with guilt. “I got my senses”

Hyunjin froze.

“What?” His lips parted slightly, the weight of the revelation sinking in. Jeongin’s senses—dulled and fractured since he was five—were the subject of years of ridicule and frustration. For him to regain them, for them to awaken now, was monumental. But this moment… this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

“Holy shit,” Hyunjin whispered. His gaze darted between you and Jeongin, struggling to balance the gravity of the situation with the implications of your undeniable bond.

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair, his lips pressing into a thin line as he resisted his own instincts. Your scent, so potent and intoxicating, was impossible to ignore. Even he felt the pull. Yet Jeongin had managed to hold back, even while cradling you so intimately.

That fact alone made Hyunjin soften.

“Alright. Let’s clean this up before it gets worse.”

Hyunjin took careful steps forward, gently peeling you from Jeongin’s arms despite your whimper of protest. His touch was firm yet surprisingly tender as he carried you to the steps of the nearby apartment, settling you down like a fragile treasure.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his tone uncharacteristically gentle as he crouched before you. His dark eyes searched yours, lingering for a beat longer than necessary. “About all of this. You… didn’t deserve to get caught up in our mess.”

Jeongin, still dazed, glanced at you one last time. His voice was barely a whisper. “I’ll find you again.”

With a curt nod, he rose, giving Jeongin one last sharp look before hurrying back to his side. His movements were brisk, his mind already calculating how to navigate the chaos that would inevitably follow.

The promise hung in the air as he turned and disappeared, leaving behind the faint echo of his words and the lingering heat of his touch.

You whimpered.

The air was thick with the intoxicating scent of sandalwood and rose musk, drowning your senses like a velvet fog. You blinked, your hazy vision lifting to the figure standing behind you—a savior cloaked in concern. His broad chest heaved with unspoken worry, his dark eyes searching yours with a quiet urgency.

“What are you doing out here?” His voice was firm yet threaded with care, the syllables dipped in an accent that made your breath hitch. He crouched before you, close enough for the heat of his presence to envelop you. “You smell—”

But words failed him as your soft purrs grew louder, more insistent. The sound was involuntary, a melody born from the overwhelming pull of his essence. His musk, his voice, his achingly handsome face—all of it felt like a gravitational force, drawing you closer with every moment.

He groaned low in his throat, the sound gravelly and raw. His jaw clenched as he fought against the wave of sensation crashing over him.

“Wow,” he muttered, his voice rough and strained. “That’s… strong.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, the veins in his neck standing out as if struggling to contain the primal energy roaring beneath his skin.

"Let’s take you home, yeah?” His voice was low, soft, and dripping with an understated charm that made your chest flutter.

Before he could do anything more, you were already moving, throwing yourself into the haven of his strong arms. The warmth of his embrace was immediate, a shield against the world, and you melted into him without hesitation.

“Woah,” he murmured, his tone laced with a teasing chuckle. “Eager, aren’t we?”

But his words didn’t match the way his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. You nuzzled into him, your cheek brushing the firm plane of his chest, your soft purrs vibrating against him. He smelled like something you couldn’t quite describe—earthy, musky, and entirely addictive.

For a moment, he simply held you, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. “You’re something else,” he whispered, almost to himself, as though the weight of your trust in him caught him off guard.

[cheriewoo]

Gonna Make You Rock Hard | Jeong Yunho ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 30: Mask Kink (Connected with Rum To My Whiskey (iykyk!😉))

↬ [ Synopsis ] : Under dim lights and the cover of a masquerade party, you’re alone with Yunho, the man you’ve been craving all night, with only one rule: the mask stays on. What starts as a playful bet with Wooyoung soon turns into a sultry, forbidden encounter behind closed doors, where every whispered word and heated touch makes the stakes feel deliciously higher.

☆Word count : 1.8k ☆Genre : Smut, no plot just drunk and fun vibes, Non-idol Au. ☆Pairing : Stranger in the party! Yunho x F.Reader

☆ ☆ ☆WARNINGS : mdni!, reader’s craving for Yunho builds all evening, playful eye flirting, alcohol-fueled tension, mask kink, mild voyeurism, size kink (it’s Yunho, after all), dom/sub undertones, messy and intense makeout sess, fingering (fem receiving), biting kink, praise (pet names like babygirl, baby, cutie), unprotected sex (remember to wrap it, buddies), overstimulation, and filthy talk.

A/N NOTE : With this fic ma chéries, we conclude Kinktober 2024🏆. Thank you for sticking with me till the end. I appreciate and love each and every one of you, and in whichever way you supported this rookie writer, THANK YOU SOO FUCKING MUCH! 💖😘🤗

I love ATEEZ (Atiny for life 💖🏴‍☠️), and writing these fics about them made me appreciate the art they create even more🤩. I also explored new genres and learned that I can write various genres and scenarios (they all did not turn out perfect, but some did and to me what really matters is that I actually gave it a try).

I will be on a short break and then will come back with more awesome stuff for y’all. Till then, enjoy these 30 fics (my first writing work…ahhhhh…this feels surreal). Hope u miss me🥺...cuz I sure as hell will😤. Thank u again for giving my work a chance! Adios! 👋👋

P.S.: My DMs and requests are open now..so feel free to send me any particular requests you guys have or any msgs you wanna send me. I will be gone for now but will be responding to comments & dms. Adios mah loves...Byeeeee.

Before stepping into that dimly lit room with Yunho, you remembered exactly how you had ended up there.

It had started with Wooyoung and his unpredictable games, pushing you to see just how far you would go to prove a point.

“If you’re as bold as you say, then show it,” he had dared, a smirk dancing on his lips as he nudged his chin toward Yunho, the man you had been eyeing all night at the masquerade-themed party at Club Havana. “Hook up with him and prove me right. But here’s the catch,” he added, his grin widened mischievously. “The mask stays on the entire time.”

The cocktails had been flowing freely, and Yunho had looked like an absolute snack, leaving you more than a little tipsy and far too eager to rise to the challenge. The thrill of proving Wooyoung wrong and maybe even showing him just how unpredictable you could be had landed you here, flirting with Yunho before you could even give it a second thought.

The attraction had been instant, his charming smile and intense gaze igniting a spark in you that only grew stronger with each passing moment.

So here you were, leading Yunho through the crowd and away from the party's noise. A mix of drunk excitement from Havana’s finest shots and the thrill of winning the bet coursed through your veins.

The mask you had worn only added to the excitement as you both made your way into the room.

The deep red walls of the room had welcomed you under the dim lights, shadows casting an intimate glow that served as an invitation for the moments about to unfold. As you closed the door, the sounds from the club outside became muffled, leaving you and Yunho in silence. The scent of leather and faint traces of cologne filled your senses, the air in the room growing thicker with every passing second.

You faced him, your masked gaze teasing. His eyes searched yours, curiosity slowly turning into hunger. As you took a step closer, your fingers slid up his chest, moving slowly as you felt the warmth of his skin through his shirt. You could tell it was driving him crazy, not seeing all of you, your eyes just peeking through the mask. He caught your hand, his grip warm and firm, his fingers tracing slow circles against your wrist.

“Are you always this mysterious ?” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, his eyes locked on yours with a delicious mixture of intrigue and excitement.

You gave a sly smile, tilting your head just enough for the light to catch your lips. “Only for the right kind of company,” you replied, your voice filled with playful flirtation.

A slow grin spread across his face as he stepped closer, closing the distance between you. His hand found your waist, his fingers firm as he pulled you against him. His gaze flickered to your lips, torn between playing the game or surrendering to it. His chest rose and fell, his breath quickening as his eyes tried to memorize every inch of what the mask hid.

You reached up, your fingertips brushing his jaw, soft and deliberate. Leaning in, your lips hovered near his ear. “Want to see what’s behind the mask?” you murmured, your breath warm against his skin.

His chuckle was low and rich, his other hand sliding to the back of your neck, his thumb grazing your collarbone. “Maybe not,” he teased, his lips brushing your cheek. “I think I like the mystery. It keeps things… thrilling.”

You smirked, leaning into his touch, your hands gliding to his shoulders. The mask and the tequila shots you had taken fueled your boldness as you pressed closer, your lips brushing his in a kiss that sparked between tender and electric. He deepened it, his hand trailing to the small of your back, pulling you tighter as if he was as captivated by the game as you were.

As seconds passed, his kisses grew hungrier, his hands exploring your curves with desperate passion. When his fingers grazed the edge of your mask, you caught his wrist, stopping him with a playful, breathless smile.

“Not yet,” you whispered, your voice soft but commanding.

His laugh was low and rough, filled with something darker. “Alright,” he murmured, pulling you closer, his hands refusing to leave your body. His fingers pressed into your hips, giving a little squeeze on your ass, which excited you even more. He had surrendered to the mystery, letting the unknown drive him wild as he lost himself in every inch of you he could reach. Everything but what was hidden behind the mask.

The mask had become part of the game, a sensual mystery like a barrier between you that fed his desire and made each touch more desperate.

His hands, once hesitant, now roamed with bold intent, tracing your curves with a hunger that matched the fire in his kiss. His lips crashed into yours, deep and demanding, pushing you back until the cool surface of the wall pressed against you, a faint contrast to the heat building between your bodies. As he surrendered to the game, his restraint slowly slipped away, leaving only the raw, electric energy that burned hotter with every touch, every breath.

His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, brushing lightly before pressing firmly, the sensation making your breath hitch. His touch grew bolder as his fingers found your core, your arousal evident.

Slowly, he slid one thick finger into you, his pace teasing at first, each movement deliberate, as if testing how far he could push you. But as your breaths quickened, he picked up speed, his fingers curling and thrusting in a rhythm that had you gripping his shoulders for support.

The pleasure built quickly, the pressure overwhelming, and when you came undone around him, your moans muffled against his neck, he didn’t stop. Instead, he added another finger, the stretch making your body arch into him. His lips grazed your neck, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin as he drove you toward another release.

Your legs trembled, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you gasped for air, the intensity leaving you weak and breathless. But Yunho wasn’t done. His hands and lips kept you tethered to him, his movements relentless as he worked to break down every barrier between you.

The mask remained, teasing him with what he couldn’t see, but he didn’t care, if he couldn’t uncover your secret, he would take everything else, leaving you trembling and completely at his mercy.

Pressed against the cold wall, the chill against your skin only made the heat between you burn hotter. You felt him move closer, his body pressing into yours. His hips ground against you with deliberate intent, letting you feel every bit of his desire. The friction sent sparks through you, each movement making your breath hitch and your body ache for more.

His hands slid down your thighs, lifting one leg effortlessly, holding you as if he had done this a hundred times. His touch was steady was strong but careful as he tugged your panties away with practiced ease, his focus completely on you.

Your breath caught when he revealed himself, and for a moment, all you could do was stare. A mix of awe and arousal overwhelmed you, your thoughts spinning with the idea of him inside you. His hand moved back to your leg, grounding you, while his hips pressed forward, his hard length teasing against your skin.

The way he moved, slow and purposeful, stoked a fire deep inside, and soft moans escaped your lips, filling the room. Your knees trembled, barely able to hold you, but his strong hands kept you steady as he lifted you into his arms.

You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, your body instinctively clinging to his strength. His eyes met yours, dark and full of restrained hunger, his expression both commanding and tender. The mask on your face gave you a boldness you had never felt, adding a thrill to every moment. As he positioned himself, his length pressed teasingly against you, and your body arched toward him, desperate to close the unbearable gap.

When he finally pushed inside, the feeling was overwhelming, a perfect mix of fullness and heat that left you gasping. He paused just long enough for you to adjust before he started moving, slow and steady at first, every thrust sending shivers through you. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as the rhythm built, each movement deeper, faster, more urgent. The intensity grew with every second, his pace losing control, his need for you taking over.

The mask stayed on, a reminder of the thrill of the moment, giving you the confidence to completely let go. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling under the pressure of his relentless pace. Stars danced before your eyes as your vision clouded, the intensity of it all consuming you. His lips brushed against your neck, his breath hot and heavy as he muttered low, broken words that sent you even closer to the edge. Every thrust felt like a claim, every move a promise, as if he knew exactly what you needed and gave it without hesitation.

It felt like you had known each other forever, your bodies fitting together perfectly, moving as one. The tension built higher and higher until finally, with one last thrust, you broke apart, the release crashing over you in waves. Your body trembled in his arms as the pleasure overwhelmed you, every nerve alive and buzzing.

Moments later, his movements grew erratic, his breathing ragged as he buried himself deeper into you, chasing his own release. With a low groan, he came undone, his grip tightening on your waist as he spilled into you, his body shuddering against yours. You held him close, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “It’s okay. I’m on the pill.” Your words seemed to pull him further into the moment, his tension melting into complete surrender.

Even when it was over, he didn’t let go. His hands stayed on you, holding you close as you caught your breath, your body still humming with the aftershocks. His dark eyes lingered on your face, the mask a silent reminder of the game you had played and won. No words were spoken, but the moment hung between you, heavy with the memory of something unforgettable.

As you both recovered, your breaths slowly steadied, though the air around you remained charged. His arms stayed wrapped around you, reluctant to let you go. With a soft smile, you gently slipped out of his embrace, his hands lingering on your waist as if trying to hold on to the moment.

“Will I see you again ?” he asked, his voice low, almost pleading.

Adjusting your mask, you took a step back, tilting your head playfully. “Maybe… if you’re lucky,” you purred, a teasing lilt in your voice.

Your lips curved into a smirk into a half promise, half challenge as you walked towards the door. Just before disappearing into the crowd, you paused, looking over your shoulder, your eyes locking with his one last time. “Try not to miss me too much,” you added with a wink, your tone equal parts flirtation and mischief.

The club swallowed you, leaving him standing there, still burning from your touch, his eyes fixed on the spot where you had vanished. The mystery of your face still lingered behind that mask.

Even in the shadows, you could feel his gaze following you, and you knew that tonight, you had won the game and you were unforgettable.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.