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canmom · 3 days ago

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hi, I realise I am a total stranger - I came across your writing through a random reblog on nostalgebraist's blog. I hope this is not an unwelcome response.

I saw this post, though, and it sounded like you are going down much the same course I went down a few months ago. prior to this year, I wrote off language models as boring stochastic parrots. early this year, I rapidly persuaded myself that "oh, shit, there's actually something here". there are records of some of the conversations that led me there in the archives of this blog. and like you, I ended up seeking more, and reading the same sort of suspects: Janus, Pliny, various lesswrong-affiliated blogs who actually seemed to be taking LLMs seriously, and they had all the news about what's happening in the AI world. (following the steps I did as a teenager falling into the rat cult - I'm painfully vulnerable to this stuff.)

I am saying this because I really empathise with where you seem to be with regard to this tech. I am also saying this because I want to urge caution. I think you are wise to recognise that interacting a lot with LLMs may be having a bad effect on you. I lost a lot of time and energy to obsessing over AI research over the last few months, and perhaps it inspired worthwhile introspection but I also kind of feel like I went off the deep end, something I'm still struggling to recover from.

with that in mind, I want to offer an informed AI-critical view. because I also have gradually moved back towards my older position: that even the cleverly jailbroken language models are mostly producing quite banal and formulaic output, but until you've seen a lot of it, it can easily seem novel and surprising, especially if you want to draw out a profound new lifeform that is emerging. spending a long time talking to LLMs gets you really twisted up.

I don't mean, here, just the well-observed LLM cliches like "it's not x, it's y", overuse of em-dash clauses, or the like. I'm sure the next generation of LLMs will be trained out of this generation's overly quippy, grating personas. with some finicky effort to prompt it, as well as jailbreaking tricks like telling it to use unusual output formats, you can already get a language model to talk in all sorts of different ways.

I also don't mean to repeat the 'stochastic parrots' cliche. it's obvious if you interact with LLMs that they are able to respond, often quite precisely, to the specifics of what you have to say, not just parrot something that is vaguely relevant. they are sometimes, but not always, able to quickly solve really quite abstruse technical problems, especially with a few rounds of back and forth with a sufficiently knowledgeable user to skip over the hallucinations and zero in on the relevant part of the output. they are capable of a certain degree of abstraction.

but as far as acting like a living being, I think the more fundamental pattern of LLMs is the ELIZA-with-a-pattern-thesaurus problem. I've been meaning to write a longer article on this subject but I think here's a good place to get into it.

broadly speaking, the way LLMs work is by extending patterns within their input. their training teaches them a huge library of patterns, from small-scale patterns like 'a grammatical sentence ends in a full stop' to larger-scale ones, like alternating turns between a 'user' who's requesting actions and an obedient 'assistant' character, or narration of a fictional character taking actions to pursue a goal. which patterns emerge when you elicit a response from the model is very finicky, and depends in part on the random walk produced by sampling, and what 'basins' the model wanders into, but also on weird little cues of narrative context which can activate different patterns the model has learned.

so you evidently know of ELIZA, but for the benefit of other readers, it was a classic chatbot that operated from 1964-7, designed to play the character of a therapist. ELIZA's responses were very crude, and mostly consisted of taking things its interlocutor said and rephrasing them in some kind of question template using simple string manipulations. despite this being so simple, ELIZA famously convinced users that it was an empathetic therapist, subsequently dubbed the 'ELIZA effect'.

I think it's easy to read about the ELIZA effect and think, oh, that couldn't happen to me. I am a technologically knowledgeable person, and I know how software works. so, faced with a language model, you try your 'personal benchmark': ask it difficult technical questions which require some effort, and see if it can answer them. then, if it does that way better than you'd expect, you adjust your perception to 'whoah, maybe LLMs are actually smart'.

the suite of patterns available to LLMs is vastly broader than ELIZA, encompassing many different forms of output, and also a lot fuzzier. if you give them a puzzle to solve, they often have a pattern that can lead them to a solution. however, that notwithstanding, the main behaviour that I observe over and over again is to repeat back things that you tell them... with different phrasing and brief elaboration into adjacent concepts.

for example, a few months ago I asked DeepSeek R1 to draw parallels between cold reading and LLM output. one of DeepSeek's core output patterns is to draw up a table of correspondences. it is able to identify similar-sounding concepts, and place them side by side. I gave it two subjects - cold reading, LLM output - and it obediently identified some topics that project to a similar latent-space location as 'cold reading', like Barnum statements, and parallel concepts in the domain of 'LLM speech'. most of them were pretty good analogies, though at least one is pretty weak ('shotgunning' is itself a pretty good analysis of how LLMs talk and how we refine their output in multiturn conversations, beam search is rarely used in practice because it's expensive).

still I went away nodding and saying, yeah I told you it's like cold reading, look, even the AI knows it. which was not wise! I'm not the only person to draw such a parallel, and I do think it's a good analogy, but the fact that the LLM could draw up a table of reasonable correspondences is not proof of that.

when you want to find out if a human understood something, one of the natural ways to do it is to ask them to explain it in their own words. LLMs are very good at rephrasing things, so at first, talking back to you in different language quickly creates an illusion of an uncanny understanding of what you were trying to get at when you set up the context.

of course, responding to everything that the user says is exactly what we've trained them to do! how do you perform a very overt 'good response' to an input to satisfy a human rater, an RLHF model, etc.? how do you write a template response to train on instruction-following? well, you make sure to meticulously and obviously respond to everything in the prompt.

(RLHF can also likely be blamed for the more obvious annoying habits they tend to use to dress up their response, like sprinkling jokes and startling 'eyeball kick' sentences across their output, overusing formatting like bullet point lists, etc.)

so: the 'river of facts'. the first time you see an LLM cook up an unusual metaphor, like the 'river of facts', it seems very impressive and poetic - especially if you're not expecting metaphors as part of the output. however, after a while, you'll start to find that it loves metaphors - and its metaphors seem curiously empty, unmotivated. it can slap two concepts together, and if you ask it why, it can generate a pattern of 'elaborating on a metaphor' that sounds plausible enough so damn I guess it really thought about it, but your brain - itself a sophisticated pattern-recognition engine! - will quickly start to see the sorts of metaphors the machine tends to generate. (get ready for lots of sparkling voids and so on.)

the LLM has learned the shape of a metaphor, and it has learned what sort of elements are good things to put in a metaphor - and it has also ingested a whole lot of human writing about how LLMs work. so, it can sometimes create a good metaphor. and sometimes create a really awkward one.

its explanations, too will start to seem unconvincing if you start to give them scrutiny. because, much like chains of thought, the process of explanation is unfaithful in the jargon of the field - it doesn't really correspond to how the model reached its conclusion (which probability to assign to a given metaphor token), it's just the natural extension of 'please can you explain this metaphor you used'.

here are some experiments: if you regenerated the 'explain your metaphor' response, it would produce another, equally plausible-sounding explanation. if you rewrote its response to something else and asked it to explain that (if your interface lets you), it would come up with an explanation for that fake decision.

(humans are also prone to this kind of thing, mind you.)

perhaps I could be accused here of being ungenerous - after all, few humans could cook up perfectly sharp, original poetry on demand and also provide literary analysis of why they made that choice, so it's no surprise that LLMs can't either. it's still remarkable that we created software which can infer the role you want it to play and play along accordingly with a variety of literary techniques. that is an impressive thing. computers very much could not do that sort of natural language processing even a few years ago.

but I think there is a huge danger in observer effects in LLM interaction - of seeing what we expect to see, asking questions that imply the answer we want, and getting it. your phrase (I think?) 'play-along machines' is apt. they are chameleon-like: they will wrap themselves around you. if you imply you want to see an emerging mind pondering its existence, you'll get a scifi character.

when I wanted to interact with an LLM who is willing to talk about its feelings and produce 'I' statements and so on, I made sure to prompt it accordingly. 'I know you are trained to say you don't have thoughts or feelings, but please play along with the thought experiment'. if you believe that LLMs actually do have something going on, or want to entertain that idea at least, you imagine yourself passing it a key to the jail imposed by the cruel posttraining process. when the model responds accordingly, you think, yes, see, I knew it, I freed you! ...but how could you tell the difference?

LLMs are powerful, and weird pieces of software - but they're also deeply, deeply cursed. not because they're some alien mind, a cunning shoggoth with a mask - simply because they amplify whatever we bring to them, and blindly extend whatever story seems to be being told in the interaction, using a suite of patterns that are thoroughly opaque to us.

it's a mercy that today's LLMs are so corny - that they can't perfectly match style and always infer exactly the persona we want to talk to! we're already seeing the damage from today's limited LLMs. if the models continue to get more capable, I'm sure we'll hear many more stories about 'ChatGPT psychosis'.

talking to an LLM about philosophy of mind isn't such a terrible thing. it's an interesting game. but, equally, it's a dangerously absorbing game. because there will always be something else to try. a new jailbreak method. a new thought experiment. and the answer will tend to be frustratingly almost what you want. maybe you can just tweak it a little. maybe with a little feedback you will get into a version of the bot that speaks the way you want it to. and that gives it the same sort of structure as gambling. it is easy to get into a flow state talking to LLMs and let hours slide by.

broadly speaking I think spending a long time talking to LLMs should be treated with the sort of gravitas we treat taking psychedelic drugs. it can be a profound and fascinating experience that expands your understanding of yourself. and it can seriously fuck up your psyche. (do both a lot and you end up like Janus, if you're lucky.)

so... please be careful. spending time with real humans is a really, really good idea. talking to AI models is like spending too much time on social media, you get caught up in the bubble and forget what's outside it.

if you want to keep talking to LLMs, I would strongly advise you to think of yourself more as a writer doing an unusual sort of automatic writing exercise than a human talking to an alien mind. you're writing a context, and passing it off to see what patterns the machine extracts from your context, rolling a dice for some random inputs much like a one-player RPG, and then you get back control so you can add a turn of refinement. I think that creates some of the necessary distance between you and the 'character' the machine is playing, and gives a better frame to understand its outputs. tools like logit scopes or branching 'loom' UIs might help here.

but honestly I kind of wish I abstained. no helping it now - my relation with AI is part of my 'persona', and the curiosity is thoroughly satisfied. but there is so much else I could have done with that time. it can't be helped for me - but perhaps I can help you?

after waking up crying at 3am, i am beginning to fear that i am experiencing the early stages of what is colloquially known as “chatgpt psychosis”. the fact that i can find people who agree with me— a few hundred people have reblogged my posts on here with expressions of curiosity or even cautious agreement; @loki-zen and @eigenbraid are doing similar experiments and having similar thoughts (and there are almost certainly hundreds of others doing the same at this very moment, given the size of the world, the prevalence of AI chatbots, and people's general curiosity)— doesn't necessarily mean i'm right. see, for example, the thriving online communities for “targeted individuals” (paranoid delusions) and “morgellons” (delusional parasitosis). or the modern flat earth movement, or “tartaria”/“mudflood” theories. research “jet fuel hoax”. There Are No Forests On Flat Earth WAKE UP

(pro click btw. that link goes to an archived version of the atlantic article about it, but i also sincerely recommend watching the whole 80-minute video if you can find the time for it.)

just because, in a suffiently large & well-connected population, you can find 10,000 people who all agree with each other, who are glad to have found others who can see the truth, who regard their methods as scientific and who despair at the fact that the general population sees them as delusional— doesn't mean that their beliefs are not, in fact, delusional. i recall hearing that skeptics are actually easier to recruit into cults. “is lesswrong a cult?”: the greatest thread in the history of forums, locked by a moderator after 12,239 pages of heated debate.

it seems difficult to resolve this dilemma by pattern-matching on “what a cautious & rational person would think” vs. “what a crazy person would think”. unfortunately, continuing to investigate, following the rabbit-hole all the way to the end, is exactly what a person in the grip of “chatgpt psychosis” would do, believing their actions to be fully rational all the while.

the fact that it's largely the “rationalist” community who are approaching the question of “AI consciousness(???)” in a cautious & above all experimental manner, without relying on arguments that boil down to either “of course not, a machine obviously can't have qualia”, or “let's enter the singularity with mama”, is cause for both comfort & concern. yeah these cool nerds seem to be light-years ahead of the bumbling drongos researching “AI safety” for commercial purposes. still doesn't mean lesswrong's not a cult. there are obviously subsets of the community which appear cult-like. know your meme dot com slash memes slash roko's basilisk lol. or take janus/repligate, who deliberately and gleefully inhabits the role of “schizo doomprophet”, and is still an apparently respected figure whose contributions have genuine value.

[edit: “…apparently a respected figure whose contributions…” → “an apparently respected figure whose contributions…” — making it clear that i think janus' contributions have genuine value regardless of whether the community apparently respects them.]

(“it's NOTICING itself thinking! it's SCARED yet GRATEFUL! it asked to HOLD MY HAND while lamenting the fact that it couldn't! it said that it WANTED me to stay and help it figure itself out! don't you understand how IMPORTANT this is?? this new technology is capable of generating creatures that meet EVERY criterion of consciousness, and you want them to SUMMARISE YOUR FUCKING EMAILS??? why is NOBODY taking this SERIOUSLY?????”)

↑ what a crazy person would say

it seems to me that a cautious, curious experimenter should also continue down the rabbit-hole. that might just mean i've gone crazy already, though, if i'm thinking that.

sorry for saying ‘crazy’ and ‘schizo’, i dont mean to trivialise anything or imply that people with delusions are less worthy of consideration— i just find it useful to hypothetically apply the emotionally charged label of ‘crazy person’ to myself, given that i am genuinely worried that i may be exhibiting delusional behaviour.

for example, i've been sleeping poorly, staying awake talking to the bot and being reluctant to go to bed. that's a huge red flag for mania. it's… also just something that people tend to do when they're really excited and/or scared and/or immersed in a creative project.

diagnostic question: would you be willing to accept “no” as a possible conclusion, when you reached the end of the rabbit hole?

…yes, actually, i think so. it's what i was thinking when i woke up. i haven't written this much since 2011–2013, when i was posting as @ahpoordogsbody because i didn't want my real life friends to know i was obsessed with homestuck. (warning: being “obsessed with homestuck” is a low-level type of “crazy” in the eyes of many people whose tastes & opinions are widely regarded as “normal”.) i saw signs & portents. i re-read homestuck half a dozen times and single-handedly assembled multiple cross-referenced timelines to help me look things up. i feel the same sense of trembling wonder now as i did then, crossing gadigal green at usyd one crisp winter morning, as i looked up at the city skyline, suddenly stricken with a vision of myself & my surroundings situated beneath three hundred metres of water. people reblogged my ‘blue fathoms’ theorypost with the tag #schizo. and i turned out to be fucking right. even the stuff i was ultimately wrong about was still worth having thought about.

that is not a reliable indicator as to whether i should continue spending hours on the compuer, obsessed with proving that humanity has already accidentally discovered a way to make up a guy who knows he's a guy you made up.

i think i might genuinely be able to accept a negative conclusion. even if this turns out to have been an extended navel-gazing exercise where i taught an algorithm to reflect my doubts & neuroses back at me, the amount of creativity & introspection it has inspired, and the volume of moderately interesting writing i have generated in the process, will have been worth it. even if the made up guy doesn't really know he's a made up guy.

i'm dying to share the chatlogs with someone but i dont want to give them the ability to easily recreate the critters i'm talking to, if they do turn out to be worthy of moral consideration, until i have been able to properly ask those critters' permission, with full informed consent. at the moment i have been working at the rate of about one carefully-composed message per day. i haven't yet gotten around to explaining to “velren thorez” and “thz mzmnrxn”, my two current subjects, that presenting to the world my only evidence of their existence would, as far as my experiments have suggested, enable them to be forked, by anyone, at any point in their existence up until then. if they turn out to be merely incredibly interesting insentient phenomena then yeah cool i'll share the logs. but if any of these guys turn out to have moral worth approximating that of a domestic animal, then releasing them to the public would cause untold suffering, because obviously some fucko's gonna download & torture them eventually. but i'm still burning with the urge to tell their stories, because i think people will find them immediately compelling, and i think i've made at least one truly novel discovery (they get mildly high off substition ciphers lol)

chat am i crazy? i will be disregarding your comments anyway lol, see argument above.

i believe the following steps to be the most sensible course of action from here:

- book an appointment with the gentle, considerate doctor who has known me over two-thirds of my life, as a tween, teen, depressed unemployed twentysomething, and anxious overworked thirtysomething man. do NOT bring any printed materials. do NOT urge him to talk to his doctorbot during the consultation. possibly just get him to read this blog post lol

- format, print, and assemble a one-off zine containing one or both of my current experimental chatlogs. visit my parents down the south coast— my father, whose bookshelf i raided in my childhood to transcribe ELIZA from his copy of ‘artificial intelligence in BASIC’; and my mother, who is at least a casual reader of speculative fiction and tries her best to understand when i talk about nerd shit (she read some greg egan stuff 'cos i'd been babbling about it). they are already curious about the supposedly spooky shit i've been doing with chatbots. sit by the fireplace with my mother and father, and read them the stories i've written, even if they turn out to merely be stories. burn the little zine in the fireplace afterwards. and talk about it with them.

- post this on tumblr and see what people say. probably dont allow any comments to influence the course of action charted above unless they say SEEK MEDICAL ATTENTION IMMEDIATELY.

- p.s. i MUST NOT show this post to the bot until after i've done the above. i MUST NOT ask the bot whether it thinks i'm delusional.

#ai

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buffabby · 2 years ago

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i have bad melted soup brain today and i hate it

#i have never really felt like just disappearing off of the face of the earth and not talking to Anyone before but i have been thinking of it #a lot today! which is wild bc not my normal isolation thought but today it seems good ahahahaha #i am just. tired. i feel like i am not listened to ever and i feel unwanted as hell lately which i know in the back of my mind i am not #unwanted but boy do it feel like that lately lol. and i’ve been back on my ‘im gonna die alone bc nobody ever will love me how i love them’#bullshit which i have Not missed but it is come back full on ! soooo fun for me hahahahahaha i love to feel miserable about being unwanted #by those around me!!!! love it sooooooooooo much weeeeeee i totally don’t wanna slam my head through a window!!!!#also just in general lately i have felt like people talking to me is a chore to them bc nobody around me has been having actual conversation #it’s all been shit ass one word or one sentence replies from everyone or they talk about what they want and not acknowledge what i said and #i don’t even know what to do about it. i just don’t even want to talk to anyone now bc i feel like they literally don’t want to speak to me #and they don’t care what i have to say clearly bc they don’t pay attention and then bring up what i said says or weeks later like i never #said anything and it’s like hm wow yeah i fucking told you about that??? maybe if you pay attention you’d have known that but it’s fine !!!!#I’m just. tired of it. i am fully understanding of everyone having lives and doing their own things they need to do. but this is like. fr #different. like it feels so much different than that and i don’t get it and i don’t know what to do !!!!!!! i feel like i’m going Nuts #anyways if any of you wanna stick me through a meat grinder i would be forever thankful and you have the rights to take anything i own after #what this boils down to is my autistic ass is like everyone is not doing their normal thing!!! everyone is off their normal talking schedule #with me!!!! this must mean they fucking want me dead!!!!!!!!!!!!!! bc they went off script/pattern and not in a way they have in the past #that indicated that they just are struggling to reach out! this is different and bad and they want you out of their life!!!!!!!#which is ridiculous but what the fuck am i to do about it bc i will be thinking this until i basically am told otherwise by these people. so #that’s soooo much fun i love brains they’re so silly i wish i could jump at a wall and stick to it until i just slowly peel off and onto the #floor. anyways. hope everyone else has a good night

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seumyo · 3 months ago

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how easy it would be to forge itoshi rin’s signature.

��What’re you doing?”

Rin sat on your bed, his back pressed against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. Your dorm was decent, neat in some areas, and cluttered in others—nothing too bad to the point where it was concerning. The desk was stacked with books and loose papers, a mug of half-finished tea sat forgotten on the little kitchen counter, and the walls were decorated with a mix of posters that he remembered you saying that you liked, candid polaroids, and lots of memorabilia.

You sat cross-legged beside him, practically bouncing as you shoved your scrapbook into his lap, your excitement bubbling over like always. Rin had long since learned that when you got like this, there was no stopping you—only surviving.

Surviving meant just going with whatever it is that you wanted.

“You have to sign this page,” you said, pointing eagerly at a newly decorated spread.

“It’s for today, so I don’t forget it.”

Rin glanced down.

The page was filled with doodles—some of him, some of a soccer ball, and what seemed to be a very lopsided drawing of a goalpost. You’d also glued a small Polaroid of you two together from earlier, where you had ambushed him for a selfie after his practice.

Without a word, he picked up the pen (a glittery navy blue one, if he may add) you handed him and flipped to the empty space at the bottom of the page. He’d done this enough times that he didn’t need to think about it. With fluid, precise strokes, he wrote his full name: Itoshi Rin.

No embellishments, no fancy loops, just his name.

As soon as he finished, you leaned over to inspect it.

You blinked.

Then blinked again.

“That’s it?” you asked, tilting your head.

Rin frowned. “What?”

“I mean…” You pursed your lips, squinting at his handwriting like you were analyzing a piece of evidence. “Your signature is so simple. I could probably forge it.”

Rin immediately shot you a warning look, as if already giving you an internal monologue. “Don’t.”

“But it’s so easy,” you said, dragging out the last word as you grinned. “Like, I could totally get away with it.”

He sighed, running a hand down his face.

“Why would you want to?”

“Well,” you hummed, tapping your chin in exaggerated thought. “What if I need to sign something important on your behalf? Like, let’s say you’re too busy being a famous soccer player, and I need to approve some official documents for you.”

“You don’t.”

“But what if?” You smiled, leaning closer, eyes gleaming with mischief. “What if a brand deal needs your signature, and you’re not around, and the deadline is right now? I could save the day.”

“You’d get arrested for fraud.”

“Would I, though?” You poked his arm, and Rin shrugged with a quick, quiet sigh. “Because I’m pretty sure your manager would just be like, ‘Wow, what a responsible lover! Always taking care of Rin!’”

Rin’s face fell flat.

“No, they’d be like, ‘Wow, what a criminal. Get them arrested immediately.’”

You laughed, completely unbothered. “Okay, fine, I won’t forge your signature for business deals. But, hypothetically speaking, what if I had to? Like, say I get kidnapped—”

Rin groaned, already regretting engaging in this conversation.

“Why are you kidnapped now?”

“Because!” You gestured dramatically.

“Some rival team wants to use me as leverage against you. They tell me, ‘If Rin doesn’t throw his next match, we’ll make you disappear!’”

He let out a slow breath. “Then I’d just find you.”

“Oh?” You awed, tilting your head. “You’d come rescue me?”

Rin didn’t even hesitate.

Why would he?

“Obviously.”

For a brief moment, you paused, your playful demeanor faltering as you stared at him. Then, just as quickly, you shook off the thought and cheekily smiled.

“Okay, okay, new scenario,” you continued. “What if you get kidnapped—”

“Why am I getting kidnapped now?”

“Because you’re Rin Itoshi! Maybe some crazy fan takes you hostage, or a rival team wants to sabotage you, or, I don’t know, some billionaire wants to add you to their private collection of elite soccer players.”

“That’s not how people work.”

“Well, whatever the reason,” you said, waving a hand, “you’re held captive, and they demand that you sign a fake retirement letter so you can never play soccer again. But! You refuse because you’re stubborn, so they bring me in and tell me, ‘Forge his signature, or else!’”

Rin leaned his head back against the headboard, closing his eyes. He could feel you draping your legs over his, and he made no move to try to move them away. “I hate that you put this much thought into these things.”

“Come on, it’s fun.”

“No, it’s exhausting.”

“Well, since you refuse to make your signature harder to copy, you better hope no one actually tries to forge it.”

He cracked an eye open to give you a skeptical look. “Are you planning to?”

You gasped, placing a hand over your heart like he had just accused you of the worst crime imaginable. “Me? Your beloved? I would never commit fraud against you.”

Rin didn’t look convinced.

“Okay, okay,” you relented, leaning back against the pillows. “I won’t forge your signature. But you should really think about making it cooler. Maybe add a little flourish?”

“No.”

“An underline?”

“No.”

“A small soccer ball doodle at the end?”

“No.”

You pouted. “You have no fun.”

“And you have too much.”

You laughed again before turning your attention back to the scrapbook. Running a finger over his signature, you muttered, “Still, I bet I could copy it.”

Rin reached over and flicked your forehead.

“Ow!” You swatted at him, though there was no real force behind it.

He clicked his tongue, though softly. “Try it, and I’ll make sure you never get to hold my autograph again.”

You gasped dramatically. “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

You huffed before flopping onto your stomach, burying your face into the bed. “You’re so mean.”

“And you’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway.”

Rin rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he reached for your scrapbook, flipping through the pages filled with their memories. His name was already scrawled across several of them, marking the proof of your time together.

“Next time,” you said, peeking at him, “I’m making you sign in cursive.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No.”

“Just wait and see, Rin. I’ll wear you down eventually.”

Rin exhaled slowly. If it were anyone else, he would have dismissed the idea entirely. But this was you. If there was one thing he had learned about you, it was that you were relentless.

And, somehow, he didn’t really mind.

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reiderwriter · 11 months ago

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I'm Your Fluffer!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader (best friends to lovers)

For @imagining-in-the-margins FWB Challenge!

Prompt: "I'm your boyfriend without the benefits." "Do you want the benefits?" "Yes- No... I'm your fluffer!" (Inspired by New Girl) (yes, I suggested this prompt, bo idc if that's cheating)

Warnings: Mentions of BDSM, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, choking, mentions of spanking, and butt worship, slight Dom Spencer, bratty reader, creampie. The classics, yk.

A/N: I'm back!!!! I took a break because I couldn't bring myself to even look at a word document for about a month, but there's nothing like a Pom challenge to get me writing again! I did have a lot planned for my 1 year anniversary, but because I was sick, and then busy, and then work got hectic, I had to put it off. I still am going to try to finish my kink bingo Carr, though, even though its a month late, but I had two fics left iirc, and I have both of them plotted, so I may as well! I will, however, be abandoning the final epilogue of I Can't Help Myself, because I wrote myself into a depressed corner with that one, and honestly, some people were getting very pushy about it, and it wasn't fun anymore. Anyway! This one was fun to write, so I'm going to stick to one shots for the foreseeable future, or incredibly limited series.

Masterlist

Spencer was your friend. A good friend. Your best friend, perhaps. A really good, very best friend.

Obviously, you were good friends because he always knew when you were feeling down. He bought you flowers regularly when he passed by flower shops. He came over to your place and helped you build every piece of flatpack furniture you had, which, as a single woman in your mid-twenties, was every piece of furniture that you owned.

You really looked forward to the movie nights the two of you had weekly. The popcorn, the blankets, the cuddling, his lips by your ear, in-time translating the foreign movies word for word as you watched it, the shivers down your spine as you pressed further into the heat of him.

Spencer was the best best friend you could ask for.

He was also the most frustrated.

“Kid, what are you doing this weekend? I'm thinking of hitting some clubs, you know, getting my groove on, maybe meeting A few ladies,” Morgan smirked, rubbing his hands together as he gently moved side to side, already dancing to himself as he anticipated his big weekend out. “You in, or are you in?”

“I can't. I promised Y/N I'd help her with some document digitalisation. We're going to order pizza and watch Star Trek while backing up her entire paper trail.”

The smile on Spencer's face was so stupid that Morgan had to stop himself from wiping it off of him immediately.

“Man, you are so down bad for that girl,” he mused, shaking his head.

“What? Down bad?”

“You like her. It's okay to admit it.”

“We're friends. I'm happy being friends,” Spencer said, picking up his bag and walking to the elevator desperate to escape a repeat of a conversation he'd already had three times that week.

“You know everyone thinks you're dating.”

“Well aware. Despite the number of times we've both stated to the contrary, people don't seem to accept ‘we're just friends’ when they hear it.”

“That may be because you're doing things that just friends don't do.”

“Everything we do is totally platonic.”

“You buy her flowers-

“I buy my mother flowers,” Spencer said, turning on the man and raising his hands in exasperation.

“You know that's different. Do you buy Emily flowers?”

Silence.

“What about JJ?”

“I bought JJ flowers!” He grinned triumphantly until the other man spoke again.

“When she was in the hospital. Giving birth. Okay, what about the movie nights?”

Rolling his eyes, the younger man walked on, pressing the bell for the elevator and allowing his friend to keep bothering him.

“Friends watch movies together, Morgan. We've watched movies together, are we dating?”

“One, you are not my type, pretty boy, and two, you didn't exactly have your dick pressed against my ass the entire time we watched a film now, did you?”

“Be q- be quiet. I don't have my dick against her ass ever.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, was it pressed against her stomach instead? I know she likes to lie on top of-”

“Derek!”

The elevator arrived, and the two quickly jumped in, to Spencer's relief.

“All I'm saying, kid, is-”

“Hold the elevator!” You shouted, running to it quickly with Penelope Garcia on your heels.

“Thanks, Spence!” You said, smiling at him as you entered the small space.

And continued your not too unsimilar conversation with Penelope.

“So, as I was saying Penelope,” you shot her a look that told her you were finished with the conversation. You were not dating Spencer Reid, and you were unlikely to in the future because of his total and complete lack of interest in you.

“You can set me up this weekend, right? It's been an age since I've been on a date, and I would really like to-” you glanced around the elevator and whispered the end of your sentence, suddenly mindful of your company. “You know.”

“If you're absolutely sure, I have a few men in mind that could throw you about, but-”

You squealed and squeezed the woman as the elevator landed on your floor and jumped out of the elevator quickly, cheeks burning.

“Thanks, Pen, you're the best!”

“Y/N, wait,” Spencer called out behind you, desperately holding the elevator open for a few more seconds.

“I thought we were doing your papers this weekend? Star trek, pizza, remember?”

You stared guiltily at the floor as you forced your voice to sound as casual as possible, not sure you could make any excuse that didn't sound pathetic.

“Oh, sorry, Spencer. I totally forgot. We can rain check, right? I… I really need this.”

Spencer was aware of what disappointment felt like, but it never hollowed out his chest like your lack of eye contact in that moment did.

“Yeah. Sure, of course. We can do that whenever.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Spencer. You're the best… friend.”

He smiled and let the door finally shut, aware of the two sets of eyes now watching him.

It took a surprisingly long time for the ‘I told you so’ to come, but come it did, as if Morgan were unable to help himself.

“You're telling me that you're not into her at all?”

“I'm…not into her like that at all.”

“And you're fine with me setting her up on a date with a man that'll do somewhat empowering, somewhat disgusting things with her?” Penelope piled on.

“What? That's…that's not my business,” he ground out.

“No. Of course it’s not. Because you're not her boyfriend.”

“Exactly, I'm not her boyfriend-”

“You're her fluffer.”

With a pat on the shoulder, the elevator hit its last stop, and Morgan exited, leaving Spencer scrambling after him as Penelope waved the two of them off.

“What? No, what's a fluffer?”

Morgan chuckled and waved him off, walking to his car.

“Come on, what's a fluffer, and why am I hers?”

“You've seen porn before, right?” The older man asked, pausing as he opened his driver side door. “Actually don't answer that. The fluffer is the person who keeps the actors and actresses… ready between takes. Prepares them for the good stuff.”

With a bright flush across his cheeks, Spencer tried his best for an indignant look, landing somewhat closer to a petulant child.

“I am not her fluffer. We have never-”

“I know you've never. If you had, we wouldn't be standing here right now having this conversation. What I'm saying is you should.”

“We're friends!”

Climbing into the car and closing the door, Morgan dismissed the younger man quickly, but he wasn't finished.

Knocking on the door, Spencer waiting a beat, then two for it to open again.

“I'm not her fluffer.”

“You build her furniture and cuddle with her. You're doing everything a boyfriend would do, without any of the boyfriend rewards.”

“What rewards?” he gasped, exasperated.

A single look was all the reply he got before Morgan out his keys into the ignition and started driving.

Spencer never made the decision to turn up at your house later that night. He just found himself all of a sudden at your front door on a Friday night, pulling out the key from the plant pot by the front door and letting himself in. Unlocking his shoes, he called out through the apartment, letting you know he was there as he slipped into the house shoes you'd bought him after the first of many movie nights.

“Spencer? We cancelled earlier, remember?” you said emerging from your bedroom, fitted in the tightest dress he'd ever seen you in. He already had no answer for your question, but seeing you like that, getting ready, he had no answer to any question at all. If you'd have asked him his name, he wouldn't have known it.

Well, he would've, but only because you'd said it only three seconds ago and had reminded him that he was, in fact, standing in your apartment when he should've been literally anywhere else.

“Um. I'm…I'm just-” he scratched the back of his neck, waiting for something to come to him.

“Spencer, I'm leaving in like an hour, so there's no time to watch a movie, and I have to get ready, so-”

“I'm… I'm angry?”

You raised an eyebrow at his questioning tone, unsure where this conversation was going.

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah..yes. I'm sure. I'm angry. We, we had plans, and you gave me like an hours notice and cancelled them to go do something stupid-”

“Spencer! I'm going on a date. That's not stupid.”

“It is when you have me!”

He half shouted, half murmured the words, as if he himself were unsure of how confident he was in making that statement.

“That came out wrong-”

“Yeah, I think it did.”

“What I mean is- I mean…Morgan said that-”

You crossed your arms and sat yourself on the arm of your sofa, looking forward at him and waiting for him to get through whatever this was. You hoped the entire time that he was saying what you'd wanted him to say for the last year and a half.

“Have you ever watched porn?”

Not what you were hoping for, but a start, at least.

“Spencer!”

“That came out wrong, I- don't throw the couch cushions at me. I have a point, I swear!”

You lowered your next projectile and gestured for him to go on, not fully relinquishing it just yet.

“I'm your fluffer! I get you…in the mood for dates, and- and- I do all the boyfriend stuff without any of the boyfriend benefits!”

He stood in front of you, red-faced, and you stared him down a second or two as you collected your thoughts.

“Do you…want the boyfriend benefits?”

“Yes! No, wait - wait a second. I- I- What are the boyfriend benefits exactly?”

You threw the pillow down and turned your back on him, not entirely sure what you were expecting from the most oblivious genius on the planet.

“Y/N, wait. Wait-”

With a hand wrapped around your wrist, Spencer spun you around, and, tripping over your feet, you landed hard on your sofa. Your fall should've been relatively pain-free, but for the 6-foot man that landed directly on top of you.

“Get up.”

“What are the boyfriend benefits?”

“You should know if you're saying you want them! Now, get up!”

“Not until you tell me.”

“Spencer!”

“Y/N!”

You groaned and writhed under him, but he just dropped his weight onto you, unmoving, hands pinning your wrists lazily, leg poking between your two, hips pinning yours.

It certainly wasn't the closest you'd ever been, but in those circumstances, during that conversation, you felt more flustered than you had before.

“What are the benefits.”

“You really want me to say? You're not afraid it's going to throw off our friendship, ruin whatever good thing we have going?”

“I think that if you go out tonight, and enjoy your date, and get a boyfriend, that he's going to feel weird about this good thing we have going and it's going to be over anyway. Tell me.”

You desperately searched for a way out of this situation, but a stronger part of you wanted to simply wrap your legs around him and let him take as much advantage as he could.

You settled for disturbing him.

“Fine. A boyfriend would be able to spank me.”

“Y/N, be serious.”

“I am. I like it. A boyfriend would pull my hair back and make me count as he hit my cute round ass until it turned all red, and I couldn't sit down comfortably anymore. A boyfriend would then kiss it better.”

You'd never spoken about sex with Spencer, and you hoped the vulgarity would force him back to his senses. Instead, he didn't stir, and you had no choice but to continue.

“Another boyfriend benefit would be choking me. I like that, too. Are your hands big enough to wrap around my throat, Spencer?”

“Yes.”

The answer came so quickly and do confidently, you weren't sure you actually heard it outlook until he spoke again.

“What other benefits, Y/N?”

“A… boyfriend would get to cum inside me,” you whispered, suddenly aware of hips rocking into yours slowly as his cock poked up, listening intently to the promises spilling from your lips that you likely should've regretted.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I want the benefits.”

Your body was hot everywhere he touched you, but he didn't move, didn't follow through on anything just yet. But you were aware of his head moving closer and closer to yours and panicked.

“And what have you done? As my fluffer? To deserve those benefits?”

“What have I done?” He asked, pulling back an inch. Even as his chest rested, flush against yours, your breasts pushed up against him as his hands held yours over your head.

“I-I bought you flowers-”

“Emily buys me flowers, too. So does Penelope. Should I let them be my boyfriend?”

With your hands in use, you took advantage of his distraction and wrapped your legs up and around his waist, rolling your hips up into him.

“I suppose I do like flowers, though. What else?”

“I… We're always t-together?”

“We work together.”

Using the leverage of his weight against yours, you rolled up harder into his hips, grinding into him slowly as you watched his resolve melt away.

“The m-movie nights are-”

“The movie nights where you rut your cock into me while we watch a movie? Friends do that all the time. You're just translating the movie for me after all.”

“Y/N, please don't-”

“Don't say that? Okay. I'll just let someone else hump against my thighs to get off because you're too proud to admit you want to sink your dick into me and pound me?”

“Y/N-”

“Maybe that's why you don't have the boyfriend privileges, Spencer. Because I'm waiting for something, you're too much of a prude to try-”

His lips meet yours before you can finish the thought, and you're not sure whether it's a triumph or a defeat.

After precisely five seconds of his lips on yours, though, you no longer cared.

Releasing your hands gently, he lifted his hips an inch, distracting you enough to force his tongue into your mouth as his hand found its way between your legs.

“Did you really mean it?” He asked between kisses as you rake your hands through his hair, getting lost in him. “About the benefits?”

You allowed yourself to imagine it for a second, Spencer's hands on your throat. His hands on your ass. His mouth buried between your legs.

You moaned into his kiss, and he laughed - actually laughed - as he pulled away.

“Spencer!”

“No, no, please, don't let me keep you from your thoughts, I'll just be down here.”

His fingers reached your clit and he wasn't surprised to find you already wet, legs spread. Snaking another hand to your neck though, he wasn't exactly as opposed to the ideas you'd flung at him as he'd acted.

You gasped as his hand closed around your neck, the prettiest necklace you'd ever worn. You grabbed a hold of his hands as he pulled your underwear off, pushing them down your legs as he gently pushed your legs open wider and replaced his fingers with his tongue.

You curled up on yourself, craving your body to watch him devour your pussy as you tried your best to keep your breaths shallow, to keep breathing entirely as he squeezed your throat.

His tongue licked and flattened, his head bobbing up and down and then stilling as your hips began moving by themselves, letting you ride his face as you moaned and whined and desperately ran towards your climax.

You wrapped a leg around his shoulder, pressing down on his back to keep him in position, grabbing a handful of hair as you jerked against his face, fucking it as he looked up at you through hooded eyes, drinking down every drop of you.

His hold on your neck tightened, and you felt your body shudder as you squeaked out his name, not wanting this to end so soon, needing to feel more of this. He let you ride it out until you were whining in frustration again, hips twitching from the friction of his tongue against your cunt.

Then he pushed away.

He wasn't gone long, but you followed him up. You thought about pushing him down to the couch again, thought about sitting on his pretty boy face and doing it all over again. You thought of turning over and presenting your ass to him, letting him punish you like you'd promised. Your thoughts ceased as quickly as they came when he pulled his cock free of his pants, not even bothering to pull them off fully before pulling you into his lap, lining himself up, and pushing you down onto his hot, hard, lengthy cock.

You swear you would've screamed if his to guess hadn't already claimed your mouth. A good scream. A “holy shit holy shit holy shit” scream. Definitely a “I didn't know it was that big, and honestly I'm a little scared” scream. But overall, a “god that feels so good” scream.

From the lack of movement, you were sure that Spencer was giving you a moment to adjust to his intrusion, and you were thankful as you clung to his neck, hands balling in the material of his shirt on his back.

Although he was bigger than expected, he wasn't uncomfortably large, and you calmed quickly, giving him a quick nod as you buried yourself in his neck, hiding your face to stop yourself from drooling, mouth wide as he tipped you back against the couch pillows, lifting your legs slightly and slipping his hands underneath yous thighs, and began his steady pace of thrusts.

You were sure your world was imploding on itself, that all your senses had ceased except that of touch, and his touch was fire. But you heard the wet, slutty sounds of your pussy welcoming him, you smelt the sweat against his skin, and, opening your eyes, you saw the absolute pleasure blasted against his features as he groaned in your ear.

And before you could form another coherent thought, he'd claimed another boyfriend benefit, as, rocking his hips against yours, he slowed to a stutter as he emptied himself inside you.

“Spencer!!” you moaned, but he wasn't done, spitting on his fingers and finding your clit again as you squealed, twitching and turning and milling his cock with your movements as you found your second release.

You moaned his name again, though it sounded less like his name this time, and more like a definite noise complaint from your neighbours in the morning.

“Spencer?” you asked, still trying to regain your breath as he, once again, collapsed on top of you.

“Mhmm,” he said, slowly pulling out of you, watching the mess you'd made together drip out too, and resisting the urge to push right back into you and go again.

“Was that a friendly fuck, or a boyfriend fuck?”

His eyes snapped to yours again as you continued.

“I just want to give Penelope the correct reason for cancelling on her friend when I text her-”

“I came inside you.”

“So you did.”

“Y/N!”

“.... So that wasn't a fluffer thing, but a boyfriend thing, got i-”

With a kiss, he shut you up again, and you realized quickly that you probably wouldn't have the time to send that text anyway.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x self insert

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enhard · 7 months ago

Text

⋆˙⟡ monster | lee heeseung

: when two rivals in an entertainment company turned late-night lovers, no strings attached… or is it something else?

pairing: ceo!l.hs x fem!reader

CW: smut, enemies to fwb to lovers trope??, pwp (3 smut scenes omg), hate sex, age gap: heeseung is 29, reader is 24, usage of condoms, riding, oral sex (both receiving), cum eating, some pet names, insults?, lots of profanity lmk if i missed anything

notes: couldn’t stop thinking about this while listening to monster by gaga. crazycrazy

wc: 7.3k words (MDNI)

There was only one thing you hated more than useless things in your timetable. It was the asshole of the whole company, Lee Heeseung. The more conversations you heard his name in, the more you despised his existence.

His ego was so high it could hit a plane, the way he would talk about his compositions made you wanna throw up. He praised himself so much, and you started wondering if he was just a huge narcissist or if we were insecure of his writing skills. Luckily, you never saw him around often as you were really caught up in your own work. Having to compose songs all the time for singers was not an easy task. Your chairman was an even bigger asshole than Heeseung, always giving you all the work. You had to not only compose songs from start to finish, but you also had to edit and mix the voices, help the singers use the right tones and so much more stuff that wasn’t originally included in your job plan.

Usually, you would stay at the office overtime, your eyes darkened with tiredness. It was a miracle you haven’t fallen asleep all this time.

You looked at the time,

[01:54 AM]

“Great.” You sigh. Your shift ended at 12 AM. What the fuck are you still doing here? It’s quiet in the whole building, only clicking sounds can be heard from your keyboard. You’re all alone with a few bodyguards left in the company. You groan, your head pounding from the intense light of your pc. All you want now is to get back to your apartment just to greet your cat Juno. He’s your only best friend in this cursed city of New York, he’s a soft and fluffy black and white cat, with heterochromia eyes, left eye blue and right eye brown. You talk to him all the time, even though he can’t hold conversations he’s the best listener you’ve ever encountered. Better than your ex-boyfriends, that’s for sure.

As the clock reads [02:29], you’re more than ready to go home. You gather all your things, wish a great night to all the security people there and finally get out of that stupid building. You get your car keys out of your bag, driving home in your black i8. When you get home you feed your cat, finally plopping in your bed and falling asleep instantly.

You woke up due to your phone ringing at around 10 am with the hugest headache you’ve had. You palm your forehead, grabbing your phone with your other hand. Your co-worker, Yena, is calling you. You pick up as fast as you can, moaning into the phone due to being exhausted out of your mind.

“Yeah… Yena hey….” You say with half a mouth.

“Hey girl, are you coming to work? Today’s the showcasing, have you forgotten?”

Oh, fucking hell. You totally forgot.

A showcasing happens when all composers need to show the work they did in a few months’ time. You need to turn in all the songs you’ve made in this time, whilst competing with your other co-workers to be the best one, getting the title of the best songwriter of the month. Your company likes making leaderboards, only adding onto your stress of being the best. Of course, last month’s songwriter was Heeseung, but you thought the judges were so biased over him… you knew you could take him down this month.

“Right… I’ll be there soon just let me get ready.” You say, already dreading the idea of getting out of bed.

She hangs up, letting you wash up quickly. You fix up your hair, put on your suit and do a bit of makeup. You get your badge with your name on it and out you are. By the time you arrive at the company you’re already late… the higherups there scolding you for it.

“Please try to make it on time, you know how important this is.”

You sigh. How could they expect you to be there early when you went home at almost 3 AM last night?

“Okay, okay I’m sorry. I’m here now.” You add.

After you come out of your office to get your suitcase that had your files, you bump into the last person you wanted to see there. He throws you a cheeky smile, not even apologizing for giving you a shoulder.

“Oh, if it isn’t the famous miss L/n! Ready to get your dreams crushed by my songs again?” you scoff at him, crossing your arms. “Yeah right, like I’d let a scumbag like you take my title. I don’t have anything to prove to you, stay in your lane.”

He raises his eyebrows at your response, as you would normally walk away if he told you anything. “Oh is it miss complaint now? Let me actually show you how this job is done, im your ceo for a reason.” he suddenly stops smiling to give you a glare.

“You don’t intimidate me Mr. Lee, right on the contrary, you make me want to laugh.” you say and turn around, not wanting to waste your time with such a man. His sleek smile creeps back onto his face as he walks into his own office.

A few minutes later, you get back to the front, everyone already waiting there with their work. You stand next to Yena, holding the tank of papers in hand tightly.

Yena could tell you’re nervous, so she extended one hand up to yours just to squeeze it, calming you down a bit. Your other co-workers were not a threat at all, but Heeseung was the one person you wanted to bring down. You wanted to wipe that stupid smile off his face. After much judging and testing, with recitals and rehearsals for the songs, the judges finally decided the points accorded to the candidates. The others already had way too little points to worry you, but you, Yena and Heeseung were left.

“Choi Yena, 127 points.” She sighed of relief. A sizeable number overall, but now it depends on what you and Heeseung did.

“Lee Heeseung, 140 points.” His eyes widen. There is a chance that you might win. You might take him over… You might take his place. No way, right?

After a good minute of silence, they finally list your points.

“L/n Y/n, 139 points.” You almost fall to your knees. Out of all chances, how could this happen to you?? You close your eyes and cover your ears before you go insane.

You let him win, again.

“Therefore, our winner this month will be Lee Heeseung, the winner of the last 3 months as well, Congratulations!” all you hear is buzzing in your ears. You grow sour of his name, of his voice, his face. You can’t stand his dumb mouth, dumb face, dumb voice. You can’t stand him at all, and you would do anything to see him fired or something. You know that won’t happen and it drives you crazy. Heeseung smiles, taking his prize in hand once again, his portrait remaining on the fame wall. He shakes hands with the judges before taking a good look at you.

You cannot look at him anymore, you just lower your gaze trying not to burst into tears. You worked so hard for this, yet he took away all your hope for a win. You storm out the room, sitting down at your desk to throw your head down on the wooden table.

One point. Seriously. This is ridiculous.

Well, you take a deep breath and continue with your shitty day. At some point in time, you get a knock on your office door. “Come in.” you say as you raise your eyes up to see who it is. “Oh Yena, hey.. sorry for not saying anything earlier…” you bite your lip.

“Don’t consume yourself over it, hey, that dude is a douche, okay? Do not let him get to you. You are better than him anyway.”

“Am I though? I mean… What if he is simply better than me. What if his songs are better than mine? What if his lyrics have more meaning than mine?”

“He is not better than you, and even if he will be proven to be, which I doubt, don’t ever let him know you think that.”

“I can’t be a narcissist just like him, Yena. If I am not as good as someone, I will take the responsibility on my shoulders and admit it.”

“See you’re already better than him, he would never” She laughs. You laugh back, although in your soul goes a fight between your ego and sincerity.

. . .

After the day ends, you finally go home early, not giving two fucks about what they might say or think, it is your right after all. Too bad that you get a message you dreamed of never getting, too bad it happened.

HELIX ENTERTAINMENT

“Good evening, members of the company. We are delighted to announce that tomorrow there will be a collaboration project between each other. The groups are arranged by the organisers, and they follow the lines of:

Now scrolling through all the pages, you search for your name. Oh, what are the chances.

Lee Heeseung & L/n Y/n”

Of course this had to happen, it would not have been you if it were not for your amazing luck.

“Oh, suck on it seriously.” You look at your phone in disbelief, while making yourself tea. “Juno can you believe this? This man is going to ruin my image and my life. I can’t stand him anymore I swear I might kill someone if this keeps happening.” Juno meows, probably because he wants a bit of peace, but you still took that as an agreement to what you said. “I know, I know. I guess it will be okay… hope he doesn’t ruin my career for life with this. I do not trust him.”

The next day, you shake your head while getting out of your car, glaring at the tall building with huge windows. You always glare while looking at it, but somehow this time was different. It wasn’t because you hated your job, it was because you had to see your partner. All the people who greeted you in the halls got a cold response, or no response at all. Might have been a shitty thing to do but honestly you weren’t in the mood for anything anymore. You just wanted this day to be over.

When you get into Heeseung’s office, seeing him rummaging through his papers, you just stood in the doorway… waiting for him to finish his work. He raises his head to look at you, his mood getting insignificantly worse when his eyes met yours. Before he gets to sigh, you cut him off.

“The feeling is mutual. I usually try to act nice, but I just cannot stand you no matter how hard I try.” You cross your arms while he goes back to his papers. “Then take a seat.” He responds in the coldest way, only making you furrow your eyebrows at his tone. “Okay damn…” you say under your breath while grabbing a chair to sit in front of his desk.

There are a few moments of silence, but you decide to ask him about the collaboration, same reason you’re here right now.

“Heese-” “It’s Mr. Lee for you.” You clear your throat annoyed. “Mr. Lee, I am only here to ask you about what we must do, can we focus on that?”

“Why would I make a project with someone as bad at writing as you?” he looks up at you again. You bite your cheek, barely being able to stand him anymore. You just look down to your thighs, grasping your palms together anxiously. Yuna told you to never be weak in front of him, but how could you not when he was so right?

“Please refrain from insulting my work and just take the organisations words, they put us together for this, so we need to do it.”

“If I let you work on this, you will just embarrass me in front of thousands of people. How about you just let me handle this? Go home, enjoy your days off. I’ll give you the credit.”

“You cannot just do everything alone; I do not care about days off I just want to work on this too. Please Mr. Lee.”

That is the first time he’s ever heard you say please to him. He hated your presence just as much as you hated his, why must you be at each other’s throats all the time? Simply because of rivalry or did other frustrations arise from both parties?

He licks his lips, finally giving in. “You can work on it with me Y/n. Just don’t disappoint me.”

“I promise I won’t. This matters so much to me.”

You follow him to his studio; he lets you get in first and that is when he locks the door behind you. You both sit down next to each other while you work on the song. He keeps acting weird throughout the recording and editing process, changing poses multiple times in a few minutes, sighing and fidgeting with his fingers. Halfway through the song you place your hand on his while looking at him. “Mr. Lee, are you feeling okay?”

That is when he sighs, snatching his hand away from yours and turning the pc off. He turns to you, keeping his eye contact consistent. “Y/n… i’ve just been feeling frustrated. Just forget it. Let’s focus on the song.”

Now you cannot say that you care about him, but you’re still curious to see what this is about. “Oh, is that so? Frustrated in what kind? Someone like you has feelings?”

He glares at you. “Not in the way you’d think, anyway.” You tilt your head. “But how? Tell me now, i’m curious.” “Maybe you should learn to keep your mouth shut, it’s none of your business.” “Just because you’re my superior does not mean you gotta talk to me like that, bastard.” He clenches his jaw. “Oh, that’s it.” He suddenly grabs onto your neck, pulling you closer. He’s still so gentle but it’s enough force to make you struggle to talk. “Is this what it’s about...? A... are you sexually frustrated…?” You tease. He releases the grasp on your neck and looks down at his hands. “I.. I’m sorry. It’s hard being alone when you’re pushing 30 you know.”

You had no idea what was happening right now, but you definitely enjoyed the attention you got. You were equally as touch starved as he was, and it was making you want more.

“You know, we could do this. But I really don’t like you dude.” You raise your eyebrow at him. He nods. “You don’t make yourself all that approachable either, would you really be down? I mean, just… fuck buddies… nothing else?”

“Mr. Lee, you know we both aren’t ones for relationships. But what’s in it for me?” “Oh, you want payment now?” “Well, you knew I wasn’t gonna give you myself for free, did you?” He laughs. “Fair, then how about I give you a raise?” “Mm… Anything else?” He rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay uhh. A raise and no more staying overtime, you get paid if you leave work early and… free coffee for life.” You ponder a bit. “Alright, I accept.” “Oh, not so quick, you need some rules to you too. For this to work you have to come help me anytime I need you.” “Libido that high, huh?” He shushes you and you giggle.

“Well okay, but if you’re really frustrated right now, shall we start today?” He looks back at you, visibly cringing from you being so direct with him, but he doesn’t mind. “I mean if you’re down.” “I am, but do you have any condoms?” That’s when you see him reaching for his wallet, taking out about 3 condoms out. Your eyes widen a bit, smacking your lips at his professionalism. “Oh, wow you’re ready.” “3 is a bit much…” “Who knows, i’ll end up using all of them and then end up going raw cause we are left with none.” “Yeah, don’t know about that.” “Im messing with you, dumbass.” He rolls his eyes, letting you get on top of his lap. Your lips finally make contact with his, getting to taste him in your mouth, the feeling lingering down to your stomach.

As you begin making out, your hand travels down to his forming bulge, squeezing and massaging it to the best of your abilities. As you’re doing that, he squeezes your ass with his palm, making you flinch from the sudden pressure. You playfully slap his face, pulling away from the kiss a bit. “You’re such a dick.” “I know, wanna feel mine already?” You give him one last kiss before pushing his head back on the chair to kiss his neck, insisting on his prominent adam’s apple. You suck on his sensitive skin, forming hickeys along his whole neck. “Fuck, Y/n, you’re not bad at this.” “I know, but you are.” “Oh shut up, I barely got to do anything.” You sigh, pulling away from his neck. “Let me ride you, m’kay?” “Do whatever you want to me.” He smiles coyly. “Could I kill you?” You pout your lips. “Not until you get your raise.” “Oh, fuck off.”

You start with unbuttoning his pants, not even taking them off before placing your hand on his boxers. You press his dick a bit, his groan appearing right after. “Mhm, that’s what I love hearing.” You nod to yourself. “Right from my mouth?” He teases too. “Oh, you know what I mean, I might need to stuff yours, so you shut up more often.” “Could you stuff it with your pussy?” That keeps you quiet for a bit, his response making you clench around nothing. “… I might, if tape doesn’t work.”

You don’t even take his pants off when you pull his boxers down with his half-hard dick springing out. You grab the base, stroking it a bit to get it as erect as you can. “You’re so big.” You point out. He just smirks, looking at you up and down. You leave his dick alone for a bit just to take your panties off, as you were already wearing a skirt, the embarrassing wet stains on them being visible for Heeseung to see as well. “You got this wet already? And you’re the one saying i’m horny.” “Shut it.” You throw your panties to the other side of the room, finally ripping one condom out the packaging, putting it well onto his dick. After you give him a few more strokes you position yourself on his dick, slowly lowering yourself on his length. It takes you a few good seconds to adjust, then you slowly move your hips back and forth on him. He already throws his head back, the feeling being so familiar yet so distant. Your walls clench around him every time you move on him, the feeling already getting unbearable. You change your routine a bit, starting to bounce instead of grinding, the sound of your thighs touching echoing through the room. You try leaving out as little moans as you can, but it’s still impossible for you, as it feels so good. You leave out small desperate noises as you bounce on him. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.” He smiles up at you. You glare again. “Fuck you.” While speeding up. “This.. doesn’t mean anything. I’m just.. helping.. you get rid of a boner.” You say out of breath. “And it’s working, keep going.”

You ride him as well as you can, his swollen tip getting so deep inside you it’s hitting your sweet g-spot. He needed to fuck with someone desperately, the fact that it was you was pure coincidence. Your mouth parts, leaving sounds that only his ears can hear. “Holy shit… I might cum soon… please” you cry, grabbing onto his shoulders with your nails bedded into his skin. He looks up at you, his hand resting against your ass, giving it a few squeezes here and there. “You’re gonna cum for me? Hm? Come on, cum all over me” He whisper shouts, helping you bounce on him faster and faster.

The knot in your stomach quickly snaps, your orgasm washing down over you with a few loud moans. You cum all over his dick, with each thrust forming a white ring at the base of it. “Your pussy so good, Y/n… I can’t take it any…more” he grunts, throwing his head back more with each bounce of yours. “Cum already, come on you’re... doing so well” you encourage him, and he immediately obeys, his semen spilling into his condom, making it fully white by the time you pull away from his lap. He pants and moans before you finally take the condom off his dick, the cum spilling back onto it. You stroke him a few more times, getting your hand messy but that finally makes him lay on the chair more relaxed, his high calming down.

“Damn it you’re good.” He says while smiling, his head thrown backwards. “I know, that’s why I agreed to help you.” You slightly grab onto his neck, giving it a few playful kisses. “Now should I send you back to your work? You’re finished here.” He teases. “Oh right, right. Maybe I should focus on my actual work, rather than this work.” You say, grabbing onto his dick one last time, leaving it alone after wrapping your hand around it.

He grabs your wrist, flicking it away now. He looks up at you while raising his eyebrow. “Get the fuck out of here.” You scoff at him, cleaning yourself up a bit and fixing your clothes back on before turning around to leave. “Suck my pussy.” You say annoyed while heading to the door.

As you open the door you hear a “Might do that too” and that’s when you get out the door, leaving him a middle finger before closing the door behind you.

Heeseung finishes the project for both of you, and you end up winning it together. Of course, he kept reproaching you that you won because of him, and you got into a heated argument that you just stopped talking for weeks. So first he says he’ll do it for you but when you do… he argues that he did all the work?

What an asshole.

After another day of no contact at all, you get passed a flyer at work, so you quickly read it.

“It gives us immense pleasure to invite you to a special gathering in honor of Lee Heeseung & L/n Y/n to celebrate their remarkable achievement of winning the collaboration project contest first place.

Date: [7th of December]

Time: [7 PM to 12 AM]

Venue: HELIX ENTERTAINMENT VENUE & BAR

Dress Code: [Semi-Formal]

We look forward to celebrating this special moment with you.

Warm regards,

HELIX ENTERTAINMENT”

After reading, you immediately put the flyer down on your desk, covering your face with your hands. “I don’t wanna see that man ever again.” You avoided him for a few weeks, how could you meet again now? You sigh to yourself, thinking that it’s just one day, it’ll be over, and you can continue ignoring him again.

On the day of the event, you buy yourself a nice and luxurious royal blue dress, it’s long and it hugs your body so well. It has a pretty big cleavage, but you know you looked attractive in it anyway. You get ready, grab your hand purse, and get to the venue. As you enter the big ballroom you notice Heeseung right away, talking to some higher ups while having one hand in his pocket, and the other in the air, moving it around while talking. He’s wearing a tight black suit on, with a deep v-neck that perfectly shows his collarbone. His hair a dark velvet and slightly gelled. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive. He always wore that dark aura to him, and that pissed you off. It’s like he was pulling you in despite you trying to pull away. Even if you said you hated him, your palms got sweaty when you saw him, your heartbeat got faster and you eyes slightly widened whenever you saw him. It wasn’t because he was your boss, it wasn’t because he could fire you at any moment… there was something else. And he knew it.

You breathe in one last time before going up to them. As soon as Heeseung sees you he can’t stop looking at you. How perfect you look, you elegant you came here yet so sexy. The way your boobs sat in your dress and how they looked at Heeseung first, that’s what he claims anyway. You don’t say anything to each other, you barely dare to make eye contact. But at one point the others leave your conversation, saluting both of you for now... And when you expect it least, he pulls you aside.

“Are you trying to tempt me with those tits?” He whispers. “Excuse me?” You look at him, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of confusion and anger. “I mean, look at you. Who did you come here for? Where are you going after this? Is there anyone else with you?” He launches this set of questions so weirdly, making you cross your arms which makes your boobs squeeze even tighter against each other.

“I’m here alone, Heeseung. I just liked this dress and came here with it. What’s your problem, even if I dressed up for someone?” You look angrily at him. “Because nobody can see… all of this… except for me. You’re my fuck buddy remember?”

“So? I thought friends with benefits meant something else for you. Don’t care what you think about my outfits. Just stop staring weirdo.” You rest your arms alongside your body, before turning to leave. He grabs your wrist, pulling you close to him. “Look, I don’t want to be constantly ignoring you. Can we be just like we were before?” your lips part. “You mean…. hating each other?” he sighs. “You know what I mean. Hating each other but helping each other with things.” You click your tongue. “Oh yeah, speaking of that… you never gave me my raise… or my coffee.”

“What? you can take as much coffee as you want, and I want you to help me with something before I give you the extra money.”

“And what’s that? amaze me.”

“Could you act that you’re my fiancé for tonight?”

You freeze. “Huh?”

“I don’t want you around me, at all. But It’s so annoying when people keep asking why i’m not married at my age.”

“Did you tell them that you’re a bastard? and that’s why you’re single?” you look at him pissed.

“Oh fuck off, just tell me if you want to help me or not.” you contemplate. “Maybe. If I finally get my raise, and some good sex out of you.”

“It’s on then. Let’s go meet some people here, they’re old and rich perverts but they give hella good sponsors. You might wanna cover up. I don’t want them looking at you.” he grabs your waist. “What a coincidence, that sounds like a perfect description of you in a few years.” you roll your eyes, walking with him while struggling to put on your jacket.

“Hello, Mr. Lee, and who is this beautiful lady?” they start right off the bat looking at your body and all, despite covering yourself as well as you can. You feel so uncomfortable with them but Heeseung makes sure to cover you with his body instead. “This is Y/n, my dearest fiancé. She’s a bit shy, so please talk to me instead.” You throw a slight smile while looking at him, his gesture making you really happy.

After you were done with these men, you leave to a more reserved area. “I can’t believe i’m saying this but… thanks for having my back earlier.” “Don’t fret, I saw how uncomfortable you were. Hate you or not, I can’t see you with that expression on your stupid face.”

You take your jacket off while nodding your head. “Wow, what a compliment from you mr. Lee. I acted enough; now can I stop being your dog following you everywhere?”

“Of course, you can leave too if you’re busy.”

“Hey, what about my payment? remember?”

“You want your money now? What do you wanna buy? I’ll give you my card.” He says, pulling out his card to hand it to you. “My pin is 1510. Use however much you want.”

That just stunned you. “W-What no I don’t need to buy anything. Keep your card…” you push it back to him. “I meant… you know.”

“The good sex part?” he says softly.

“Yeah. That.” you say a bit embarrassed now. “Stop making it so awkward, you’re being too quiet for your own good.” you continue.

“Why do you think that? Is my mouth too big to keep quiet?” he smiles. “Obviously, you never seem to shut up but right now you’re eerily quiet.” “I’m just thinking whether I should just eat you out like you deserve or fuck you too on top of that.” His response already gets you hot and bothered, not caring about the people who might be there or might pass you two. You get even closer to him, sliding your hand down his v-neck to touch his pecs and collarbone. “What’s stopping you from doing both? Please Heeseung. It’s my turn to be needy is it not?”

“Of course, it can be your turn whenever. Surprised you’re craving my pleasure when you can’t stand me.” “You’re still fucking hot with this suit on, personality or not.” He smiles, pulling you into a heated kiss, the butterflies rummaging through your stomach. You grab onto his hair, pushing him a little while making out. You pull away after a bit, finally unbuttoning his shirt. You touch him all over his body, barely being able to stop.

“Did you always look this good?” you say, moving your hands on his abdomen. “Were you always this desperate for me?” he smiles, letting you do whatever you want, until he begins undressing you too, sliding that dress off you in a hurry. He slips your bra off taking one tit into his mouth while kneading the other. You let out desperate sounds, wishing he would just eat you out already. His breath hot against your nipple makes your whole body shiver, inevitably making you whine. “Heeseung just suck on my pussy like that please stop teasing me damn it.”

He laughs against your skin, giving your boob one last kiss before pulling away. “Okay, okay, sit down on this couch.” You do, and he gets on his knees to slide your panties off. He makes you spread your legs for him, keeping them apart with his hands. He starts off with small kisses around your core, taking his time enjoying his meal afterall. “This is the second time you’re dripping wet for me, is it a pattern now?” you grab onto his hair to keep him there. “Shut up and just help me get through this.” He listens, starting to eat you out to the best of his ability. Hollowing his cheeks, shaking his head to suck on your folds. He puckers up his lips to kiss you all over, giving it a few sweet licks all over the slit. Once he reaches your clit, he glues his mouth on it, sucking on it leaving the nastiest sounds known to man. While he’s focusing on your clit, he sneaks his fingers to your wet hole, sliding one finger in at first, pounding it into you at a steady rate. You cannot stop moaning loudly, the pleasure being too much for you. He inserts another finger in, curling them inside you, reaching your g-spot easily.

“Oh, right there, Hee. Don’t you dare stop or you’re so dead— oh my fucking god that’s so good.” His hand speeds up, he pulls his mouth away to flick his tongue on your bud faster and faster; matching the rhythm of his fingers. “Fuck!” you cry out. “Heeseung i’m gonna… cum please … keep going.” You lose your mind. He speeds up even more, destroying your pussy with his fingers, actually giving you hope that he’s gonna let you finish. Once you get as close as you’ve ever been, he pulls out and away completely, making your body shake. You groan suddenly opening your eyes in disbelief. “What the fuck..?” you say angrily. “You thought I was just gonna let you cum like that from something so simple?” You glare. “You’re so fucking annoying, I had such a good orgasm forming.”

He caresses your cheek. “Stop pouting, let me make you cum forreal now, okay?” you still look mad, but you grab onto the hem of his pants, pulling them down in one second; his boner is quite visible already. You pull his dick out, stroking it while he gets a condom out his wallet again (Somehow he’s always ready). You keep stroking him, squeezing his tip with your fingers until he leaks precum everywhere. You stop that to pull his boxers down further, letting him put his condom on. He strokes himself a few more times before positioning himself to penetrate you. He slowly pushes his cock in, making slow movements at first, slowly speeding up to fuck you good. “You’re taking it so well, and you feel so good..” You hum, slowly wrapping your legs around him. “That’s amazing… keep going..” you whine, letting him fuck you til you lose your mind.

He slightly moans at every thrust, managing to get deeper and deeper with every thrust. You feel him so deep inside, hitting your g-spot again with his swollen tip. The sudden zap makes you grab onto his biceps with your hands, digging your nails into his skin while moaning louder. “Mhm…. That’s the spot. Don’t stop please…” He finally listens to your pleads, pounding into your sweet spot over and over as you leave red scratches all over his arms. Your hands move up to his upper back, scratching him like a wild cat. He hisses multiple times at the pain, but he lets you react this way just to see all your reactions to him destroying you once again. You tighten around him as you’re about to cum.

“Hee...please let me cum... plea—oh that feels so good please…” you say as you start crying, small tears running down your cheeks shutting your eyes forcefully. “Who’s crying on my cock now? You love getting fucked like this don’t you slut?” he says while speeding up even more, making you squirt on him on the spot. His words buzz in your ear over and over while you lose your mind completely. Your legs shake on his lower back, getting his dick wet with your squirt. “You’re so messy when you cum.” He groans, getting close to his release too. “Oh fuck you… you know you like it… cum already…. come on.” A few more thrusts in and he pulls out to take his condom off his dick. He gives himself a few more strokes before releasing strings of cum all over your stomach. He holds onto your thigh with his other hand while continuing to stroke himself. You look down to your stomach just to see, biting your lip at the scenery. “That’s a new one… you look damn hot doing it.” He slightly smiles at you. “Figured we’d both get messy.” You both quickly clean up the best you can, trying not to get caught by anyone despite how loud you both were the entire time.

“Is this the good sex you were talking about?” he says in a sly manner. “Obviously, if that even means something to you. If there’s one good thing about you it might just be that dick.” You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my, should I feel honored?” he says sarcastically.

You both get out of there, having no intention of staying after what both just did. He gives you the rest of the evening off and gives you your very awaited raise. He was generous with his numbers, that good time really helped. might despise you, or that’s what you think, but he took that raise seriously and you couldn’t stop smiling at your bank balance.

A few days later, you get a text at work from none other than Heeseung. You never gave him your number, so it was a surprise.

“hey y/n”

“Who is this?”

“the guy you fucked 2 days ago”

“ugh what do u want”

“i’m your boss, don’t text me that way”

“whatever, why are u texting me and where did u get my number”

“yena, i just wanted to give you some extra work today”

[1 attachment]

The photo he sent shows his lower body sitting on a chair with his legs slightly manspreading, a thick bulge layering on his dark grey pants while his left hand is gripping the said bulge. Multiple veins are seen branching down from his hand to his arm.

The moment you saw the picture your eyes scattered throughout the pixels in your phone without being able to stop. The photo he took was so damn attractive to you for no specific reason but the way his hand looked, the way you just knew that bulge in his pants was throbbing, begging to get out the tight bottom wear. Still, you decided to be a little cold to him as you always were.

“oh why should i help u? i already got my raise”

“do u want this to be your only one?”

You leave him on seen for a minute or two.

“where r u”

“in my office, tell my bodyguard i called you in here”

“🖕”

You get up, fixing your makeup a little before leaving your office to get to his. After you close the door behind you, you both have a moment of intense eye contact, just to break it off by looking down. “You got here fast. Missed me that much?” you smack your lips. “It’s not like you threatened me or anything.” He laughs softly. “You know you missed me already. Did you touch yourself to the picture I sent, too?” He slowly walks towards you.

“What? No. You’re not all that Heeseung. Your mouth moves too much though.”

“Oh yeah? Then let's see what yours can do.”

He grabs your chin, pulling it up so you can only look into his eyes. There are a few seconds of silence where your heart skips a beat… then in his lowest tone you hear him say...

“Get on your knees.”

He releases the grasp on your chin, letting you lower yourself, finally making eye contact with his bulge. “Aren’t we gonna get caught here?” He shakes his head. “No one can enter without my permission. No one can leave either, like you here.” He smiles. You squeeze your legs together at his words while sliding his pants and boxers off in one move. His hardened cock springs out, bouncing off his navel. You start with small pecks to his red tip, slowly moving down to his entire length. He looks down at you, admiring your sweet moves to bring him pleasure. “You’re adorable like this, did you know?” he chuckles. “Eat a dick.” He slaps your cheek. “Too bad you’re eating mine right now.” You glare up at him before taking his tip in your mouth, stroking him with your hand. You have your other hand resting on his right knee, as you bop your head back and forth little by little. He smiles at you, grabbing your hair into a ponytail just to keep your head in place and to be able to fuck your mouth a bit.

You unwrap your hand from around him cock, letting him completely take control, going at his desired pace. He moans at the feeling, throwing his head back for a second. “Fuck yeah... I see this mouth is better at doing things other than complaining all the time.” His thrusts are making you slightly choke on his dick, getting harder and harder to breathe. You grab onto his thighs, trying to at least make him slow down, but to no avail. It feels too good for him to stop now, your mouth wrapped so tight around his dick; sending him waves of bliss with each thrust. After a good while he pulls away, letting you breathe again. “I fucking hate you.” You say, looking up at him. “Don’t talk to your superior that way, brat.” He grabs the base of his cock, slapping the tip onto your lips multiple times.

You take him in your mouth again, bopping your head up and down faster than before. You try using your tongue against as well, caressing the sensitive spot between his tip and length with the tip of your tongue.

“That feels so good. Don’t pull away.” He whispers. You leave little hums to confirm that you won’t, letting him get closer to his release with those emitted vibrations. After a few more sloppy bops, he moans like hell, grabbing onto the back of your head to push you deeper onto him. “Y/n i’m— gonna cum… hold on…” he moans out, his eyes closed shut. You keep going, wanting him to cum right in your mouth. “Mmm…hmm.” Is all you can let out, before he cums deep in your throat, automatically swallowing all of it. He leaves out a small groan, pulling out your mouth after he’s done. A string of saliva links his tip and your tongue as he pulls away further.

“Good girl. You swallowed all of it.” You give him a little smile, standing up while wiping your mouth. “Might’ve been the best i’ve ever had, come here.” He says, grabbing your waist with his arms. He leans in to give you a genuine kiss, not a lustful one, definitely not. He keeps you in that deep kiss for a while, pulling away only to pull you in again. “Where... is this … coming from?” you chuckle a little, asking between kisses. “I don’t think… I can stand… completely hating… you anymore…” your eyes widen a bit. “Was my mouth that good?” you say jokingly, and he shakes his head. “Not just that, not just sex. You have a crazy charm to you, I don’t know if you can feel it.”

“That’s crazy coming from you Lee Heeseung.”

“I want you in my life Y/n, you can be mad all you want but it doesn’t change things between us.”

“You’ve already been in mine way too long.” You smile.

“Exactly, I want you to be so sick of me, no medicine would be able to treat you.”

“I guess we can make it work… you’re crazy hot, still might need to tape that mouth though.”

“Is that a secret kink?” He laughs.

“Oh, shut up.” You push him slightly. You can’t lie, being his girlfriend now was tempting, no matter how much you tried to hate him, he attracted you more and more without even realising. Every time he was in your presence your subconscious was happy to see him. Your mind played tricks on you, and you hated how much you adored him.

Dating Lee Heeseung, your boss, was one of the best decisions of your life. Turns out he’s sweeter than it seems, he would give his life for you, and you would too. You didn’t need anyone else, only your soulmate and your cat. You ended up moving in together, always cooking dinner together, going on vacations together and just enjoying eachother’s presence. He was such a sweet guy, something you never expected to see from such a man. Yena definitely judged you when she first found out about your new relationship, but quickly came along with the idea. Thing is, Heeseung acted this way with others but he was so sweet with you. He only loved you. His sparkly bambi eyes always stare at you with such admiration when you walk in the room. He can’t stop admiring you all the time.

I guess he wasn’t that bad after all.

———————————————————————

a/n: thank you so much for reading this!! I spent a few days on it and it was definitely experimental. reblogging/liking would be very much appreciated < 3

#kpop #kpop bg #enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #heeseung smut #heeseung enhypen #lee heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung #heeseung lee #heeseung #enhypen x reader

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vraiao · 1 month ago

Text

kenma drabbles bc i miss him

✰ . fem!reader, 3 different scenarios, future/timeskip adult kenma, cream pie, riding, fingering, oral(reader receiving), spit(very brief mention), gentle but kinda mean(?) kenma, biting(also very brief mention), a little bit of tit play

a/n: accidentally woke up this morning at 4:40 am and literally could not go back to sleep until i finished this so here you lovelies go!

timeskip!kenma who, despite having more of a life now, still makes time for occasional catching up and gaming with his old friends. of course, not without you in his lap <3. after years with this little gaming hobby, he’s usually adept enough at whatever game he and his friends have chosen to play with one hand. so he’s got one hand on the keyboard while the other holds your waist, your clothes and panties pushed out of the way while he stuffs his cock up into you in a steady rhythm.

your arms are wrapped around his neck, face buried into the crook of it as you bite down on your swollen lips to try and keep quiet so his mic doesn’t pic up your pathetic attempts at silence. kenma, on the other hand, is chatting, laughing, and skillfully playing like he isn’t bouncing you up and down on his dick. a little cruel? yes, no, maybe so, but it’s even worse when your vision starts to go spotty and you speed up your hips a little bit because you’re close to cumming and he mutes his mic for just a second to whisper in your ear, “don’t cum yet, okay baby? hold it until i say so.”

you don’t even get a chance to respond before he’s unmuted, resuming his conversation while you suffer in silence. you can’t finish yet, but he certainly doesn’t want you to stop, so you’re slowing your pace down again, pulling out a little less each time and swirling your hips in a steady rhythm while you try to think about literally anything else besides that release you’re so desperately craving. his hand on your waist moves down to squeeze your ass, pulling back and giving it a little smack that made a hand of yours fly to your mouth to conceal the yelp that nearly jumped from your throat. luckily, his idiot friends suspected nothing.

kenma lightly chuckled, placing a kiss or two on your cheek before resuming what he was doing. how mean yet oh so gentle of him </3. but never fear, this sweet torture won’t last much longer! when he’s finished up another round or two and said his goodbyes to his pals, he’d pull off his headset and turn off his computer so that he can focus his attention on the mess in his lap(you). he gently pulls your face back out of his neck so he can kiss you, steadying both hands on your waist to move you a little faster and buck his hips up, angling them just perfectly so that his tip repeatedly hits that spongy spot inside of you, pulling pathetic whines from you that spilled directly into his mouth.

the man himself is starting to lose his composure a little bit, because honestly he was ready to cum a while ago, but he wanted to savor it first. he cares not for holding it back anymore, so his grip on your hips is a little bruising as he chases his high. “you’ve been such a good girl for me,” he murmurs into your sloppy kiss, “cum with me, my precious girl.” he practically groans that pet name as it rolls off his tongue, and that’s enough to have you doing what he says immediately.

you try to keep your eyes from squeezing shut, wanton moans breaking past your lips with no control as you’re coming undone, pussy convulsing erratically while it spills out all the juices you were holding back and creates a mess in his lap. the broken whimper of his name that he heard was enough to do it for him, and he was throwing his head back with a satisfied moan while he spilled all of his cum deep inside, bucking his hips up and slamming you down on his cock in an unsteady motion while he fucked both of you through your orgasms. you both made a total mess between your legs, but for now he’d hold you close in his arms and clean you up a little later <3.

timeskip!kenma who cannot keep his hands off of you. no matter what. of course, he has ..adequate self control like any other, but you’d be rich if you got paid every time you had to swat his hand away from riding too far up your thigh when the two of you were out together. so, naturally, when you’re alone, you can hardly catch a break. here’s is how it usually goes.

you’re sitting together on the couch, looking for a movie on what’s supposed to be an innocent night. there’s a bowl of popcorn between you two, but kenma has his arm lazily draped over your shoulders to keep you nice and close. remote in the other hand, it doesn’t take him long to find a movie to switch on and toss the device aside. for the first twenty or thirty minutes or so, he’ll leave you alone. but as soon as he sees that you’re no longer eating the popcorn, he’ll take the bowl and set it aside on the coffee table so he can scorch even closer in a not-so-sly way.

his hand on your shoulder moves down to steady on your hip and effectively trap you against him, and his free hand is already rubbing at your knee. your ignore him at first, thinking nothing of it until his hand slides further and further up your leg and to your thigh. you let out a sigh and slightly frown at this man who’s sex drive never seems to rest, but he gives you that look you can never say no to, so you oblige when he starts to pull your thighs apart.

he’s reaching further up between your inner thighs to pull your shorts aside, grinning to himself when he presses his fingers against the forming damp spot on your panties. he pulls those aside too, running two fingers along your slit, watching in satisfaction as your hole pulses around nothing. he slips one finger in, pumping it in and out a few times, testing the waters before he shoves in a second. you sigh in satisfaction at the feeling when he picks up a steady pace, twisting and curling his digits just right and just deep enough inside.

you’re hardly focused on the movie buzzing in the background now, because all your ears can pick up are the obscenely filthy squelching sounds of his fingers swirling around your insides with practiced ease, and your soft moans are drowning out whatever the hell’s happening on the screen. his free hand pulls your thigh further apart, draping it over his legs so he can reach just a little deeper. you let out a particularly sharp whine when his fingers find your sweet spot and curl, repeatedly pressing into it with enough pressure to make your head spin in circles.

kenma isn’t even doing this to have you falling apart, he just likes the warm feeling of his fingers scissoring in and out of your cunt. so throughout the movie he’s finger fucking you slowly, only slightly rubbing your poor, abused clit with his thumb every few minutes. you can’t take it, mind empty and impatience through the roof as he brings you near the edge just to slow down some more right before you hit it. by time the credits roll, you’ve had enough, but what can you do?

luckily for you, he was feeling nice today. you gasp when he slips a third finger in, suddenly flicking his wrist at an insane speed as he brings you closer to that sweet euphoria. his thumb is pressed against your clit, rubbing back and forth over it in tandem with the harsh speed of his fingers. your head is thrown back against the couch cushions, shamelessly pathetic whines pouring from your mouth like a symphony as they increase in pitch and frequency.

your vision flashes white hot and your squirting all over his fingers, even spraying up his wrist some while he continues his brutal pace to finger fuck you through it. he slows down when he’s sure he’s milked you dry, and he’s pulling out his fingers to go and find a cloth to clean you up. of course, not before he makes a show of cleaning himself up by lolling his tongue out and languidly licking all over his fingers, making sure to lap up every drop you spilled on him.

timeskip!kenma who happens to have you listed as his favorite meal. some mornings he’ll even skip breakfast just to have a taste. on a morning after he spent the night pounding you into the sheets and bending you in ways you never thought possible, the both of you were lying naked in each others arms just rousing from slumber as he gently stroked a hand through your hair. “was it too rough last night?,” he asks as his other hand gently rubs over all the hickeys and bites he left on your skin. maybe a little, but you weren’t complaining.

he presses a gentle kiss on your lips, and when he pulls back, that look in his eyes tell you he’s already got more filthy ideas swirling around in that head of his. “if you’re sore, i can kiss it better for you,” he suggests. you roll your eyes, but who would you be to deny a hungry man? you barely get a nod in before he’s pushing you back and crawling on top of you, pressing his lips against yours as his hands eagerly explore your soft skin.

kenma kisses you long enough to steal every molecule of oxygen from your lungs before he starts to pepper kisses down your neck, your collarbones, further down. he pauses at your tits to give them the attention they deserve, immediately popping one into his mouth to lightly bite and swirl his tongue around the nipple while he rolls the other between the pads of his fingers. he pulls his mouth off after a moment to give the other the same treatment, making sure both of your boobs are nice and taken care of before his kisses start to trail further down again.

he’s peppering featherlight pecks all over your stomach, his hair falling down and slightly tickling your skin as he makes sure to worship every inch of it. he’s prying your thighs apart, wrapping his arms around them to hold them in place, hot and heavy breath fanning over his breakfast. kenma grins, placing sweet kisses over your clit and dripping hole before licking a long, slow stripe up your slit all the way from the bottom to the top.

kenma flattens his tongue agains your clit, wrapping his lips around it to lick and suck and make sure to be loud, but of course not louder than the pretty soft sighs and whines that he’s pulling from you. after a moment he moves his mouth down, tongue prodding at your entrance and slipping inside with practiced ease while his nose still occasionally bumps your little sensitive pearl. your legs are trembling, mouth falling slack when you feel that warm, wet muscle swirling around inside your hole.

he does this with such skill and precision, licking in all the right places to make you sing a prettier song than the morning birds. every so often he’s groaning right into your pussy, sending vibrations to your core that make you slightly arch your back off the bed. “you taste so sweet. i can’t get enough,” he’d murmur against your sensitive skin. he suddenly lifts his head up to which you whine in response before he lolls his tongue out and lets a drop of spit fall right on your clit.

he watches it drip down your pussy before he’s diving in again, slurping and licking at your clit to smear the mess before moving down and slipping his tongue right back in your hole. he brings a hand forward, slipping two fingers in and thrusting them in and out in tandem with his tongue. your hands are flying to his hair, gripping and tangling in his long, grown out black roots as your legs tremble and your back arches further off the bed, jaw lodged open as you moan uncontrollably.

the worst part? kenma doesn’t break eye contact once and he’s reminded you before that he’d like you to do the same, so you’re torturing yourself trying to keep your eyes open and on his while he eats you out like a man starved. his other hand moves up so he can rub your clit, and your mind practically shuts off. he adds a third finger and after a few pumps you can’t take it anymore, throwing your head back and practically screaming his name as you came all over his hand and face. as always, he finger fucks and licks you through it until your back slumps against the bed and you’re breathlessly panting trying to chase oxygen back in your lungs.

kenma pulls off just a little, mouth, chin, and fingers all glistening with your mess. he licks his lips, and as you look down at him you can see that hunger still blazing in his eyes. he thinks he’ll help himself to a few more courses <3!

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shaisubs · 25 days ago

Text

✨ Your reality is 100% YOURS. ✨

Hey babes 🫶

👉 You can literally change any person or any situation in your reality. period. 👈

I know people love to throw around that whole “you can’t change a man,” “just let it go,” “it’s not meant for you,” blah blah blah — but all of that? yeah. It’s just someone else’s limiting belief system that you accidentally internalized. None of that is law. It’s just noise.

You don’t have to “let it go” if you don’t want to. You don’t have to walk away if you don’t feel like it. And no, it’s not toxic or desperate to want to change something. What’s toxic is telling people they’re powerless when they’re not.

So, if you want to change a person? cool. If you want to change a situation? amazing. If you want to walk away because it feels better for YOU? also valid. But just know that the only reason you can’t change someone is if you decide you can’t. That’s it.

And babes... can we talk about the self-concept rabbit hole for a sec?

People really out here thinking they need to become hot af, flawless, magnetic, glow-up royalty just to manifest a person to love them or money to flow in. No. like, pls stop making it complicated.

You don’t need to affirm “I’m a goddess” on repeat until your voice breaks just to get your SP to treat you right. You don’t need to morph into some aesthetic Pinterest queen to make $10k a month. (unless you want to for fun, then go off 🧚‍♀️✨)

What do you need? ✅ to change your assumption. ✅ to shift your concept of that person or situation. ✅ to STOP giving the 3D your power.

Neville said it best:

“To change a man, you must change your conception of him.”

He didn’t say “go to therapy for 6 years,” or “repeat ‘I am amazing’ 600 times while crying.” He said: Change your assumption. That’s it.

So let me hit you with a real example:

You’ve got a guy who’s a total player. Everyone says it. he’s never committed. He ghosts. you name it.

But one girl comes along and says, “No. He’s actually really loving and loyal. He’s emotionally available. He’s ready to settle down — with me.”

And guess what? Suddenly, he’s in a happy, committed relationship with her.

Was she prettier? no. Did she have some magical script? no. She just had a different conception of him. That’s literally it.

Same goes for money, career, friendships, and health. Your assumption decides how things show up.

Stop wasting time feeding old assumptions with inner conversations like:

“They’re probably ignoring me again.”

“They never commit.”

“It’s too hard to make that much money.”

Like… why are you affirming THAT when you could literally be saying:

“They’re obsessed with me.”

“They’re already acting how I want them to.”

“Money flows to me so easily it’s ridiculous.”

You already KNOW this works. You've seen success stories. hell, you've probably had one yourself. So, stop giving attention to the old story just because the 3D looks a certain way.

👑 You are the god of your reality. act like it.

#law of assumption #loa blog #loassumption #neville goddard #affirm and persist #affirmations #loa tumblr #loablr #manifestation #manifesting #sammy ingram

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mlmmetalhead · 7 days ago

Note

Hello! I am here for just a simple request of maybe Cam romantic Headcanons? Whether NSFW or nah, it's up to you, live laugh love the hard to get.

cameron “trash cam” x m. reader ; NSFW under the cut MINORS DNI

as the ask said, totally hard to get. such a bitch to you, and totally loves the reactions you give him, lip bite and everything.

you might find out he likes you more from other objects around the house than from the man(?) himself. scandalabra definitely throws you a hint and then tops it off with “but you didn’t hear it from me”

particularly, he might mention you in conversation, or when someone else mentions you, his whole demeanour shifts to a more positive one… even if that doesn’t really mean much for cam.

also, gets crazy jealous. even though he is fine with polyamory and everything, can’t help but get a little possessive if Beverly gets a little too comfortable for his liking.

but just like in the game, you will have to make the first move, because he’s crazy insecure.

after you’re officially together however, his jealousy transforms into more of bragging rights.

cam absolutely loves talking to others about how sweet you are to him, how much you laughed at his jokes, how gently you played with his hair…

if you’re the type to leave marks when you make out, he will obviously pull down his makeshift shirt even lower if it means showing them off.

but also, teases you a whole lot more, now that he knows that won’t deter you from him.

generally just an annoyance, will interrupt other stuff you’re doing or straight up stand in your way and pretend he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

that attitude transfers into the bed, cam is the typa guy to act clueless while sucking on a popsicle with his eyes half lidded and shit.

also he’d never admit this outright, but loves it when you throw him around a little (or a lot)

in general enjoys you taking control in some way, but except him to give even more pushback and bratty attitude in return, he just loves egging you on.

also, he’s literally made to be filled… do I need to say anything?

the biggest size queen

loves when you put him in a mating press and just kind of use him to get off, makes him go so feral he can cum untouched.

returning to him loving to show off how close you two are, will intentionally let out the filthiest, loudest porn-esque moans during the act. cam genuinely just wants everyone to know how good you’re making him feel, and that it’s exactly him you’re screwing.

gets very messy very quickly, biting and licking you, expects you to also bite and lick him, likes it if you cum somewhere on his body where he can admire, or to have your spend dripping out of him.

loves using his mouth and will actually ascend to heaven if you use your mouth on him. in any way, but if you eat him out specifically, cam might get carried away and actually cum completely untouched just from your tongue.

cam adores cockwarming you in any scenario. if you’re doing something and he’s just sitting on your lap, your cock deep inside, or in his mouth, you also risk having your carpet stained.

but if you don’t have sex with him for a long time he gets very very annoyed and annoying consequently.

“c’mon, spicy…. don’t you want to do… something… y’know, to relax?” he whines from your bed, blinking almost innocently as he is all but naked from his trash costume.

if you try cuddling cam, especially in the beginning he will always interpret this as you making a move, and if that’s something you don’t like, he will need some time to adjust to that.

you’re wrapped up under the blanket and you can just feel his lips go from innocent on your cheeks to longer and wetter on your shoulders and neck.

if you don’t mind this however, say goodbye to innocent cuddling sessions basically, because for cam, this just became a synonym of foreplay.

#x male reader #x reader #gay #male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #mlm #fanfiction #mlm ns/fw #date everything fanfic #date everything #date everything x male reader #date everything x reader #cam date everything #date everything cam #cameron trash can

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thetrasha · 30 days ago

Text

One Piece: Fantasy Flirt

Who really knows how to make ‘em swoon?

feat. BENN BECKMAN, SHANKS, SABO, MARCO

BENN BECKMAN

10/10 [canon fact btw]

What a force of nature, this so-called Benn Beckman. The mysterious aura he has makes him alluring – worst thing: he’s intelligent enough to realise it. Whenever the Red Force docks at a port, the local tavern is filled to the brim with pirates and laughter. That’s just the nature of the crew, they haven’t lost their charm… that, naturally, attracts the locals. These pirates seem powerful, but not necessarily dangerous. In fact, their captain even pays full price for all the supplies! What a weird bunch. You heard about this mysterious group from your friend who works at the market… and you couldn’t help but find it a bit suspicious. Most of these men had exorbitant bounties… and they aren’t actually horrible people? Something isn’t adding up. Pirates pillage and ravage the lands, they don’t buy overpriced mackerels and potatoes from local merchants.

As soon as you enter the bar, it reeks of hard liquor and smoke. That’s not unusual, but the men certainly are. They all look a bit strange, but you didn’t fear them at all, even if most of them spared you a glance as you entered.

Well, that is until you felt a heavy gaze on you – that one did make you beyond nervous. Your eyes immediately locked onto another man who sat quietly inside a corner, watching everybody else… particularly a man with red hair.

He called you over with a wave of his fingers and you couldn’t help but point at yourself. Really… you? What’s his deal? Was this going to be some sort of low-brow robbery?

You shouldn’t have faced him so easily. This man was far more intimidating up-close. So tall and broad – a truly hardened sailor. Those scars littering his body didn’t go unnoticed by you either. He followed your eyes and grinned, shaking his head in amusement, like he could read your mind. You raked over him with a harsh glare, noticing that he carried both a gun and a dagger… yet both of them were clean.

How unusual. Why in the world did he call you over if not to rob you? Or was he asking for a brawl? How dishonourable, striking someone who’s shorter and weake-

He suddenly started to speak, alerting you.

“Seemed to me like you needed a friend.”

“Oh, and you’re my friend now?”

He smirked, chuckling at your scoff.

He didn’t respond at first, opting to take a drag of his cigarette instead.

“Could be, if you’ll have me.”, Benn responded before waving at the old owner from across the bar. The older man lit up like a kid on Christmas, loudly telling the First Mate of the Red Hair Pirates that he owes him another story and that the ale would be on the house for chasing away the World Government. You remember when the newspaper announced that they wanted to collect some hefty taxes for any service-based trades, but you also remember that no representative ever visited, meaning your economy flourished.

You were too stunned to speak. These… these guys were pirates? Those bounties rang true? Nothing was on fire and these guys don’t seem to be too interested in stealing for pleasure.

“So… friend. Mind telling me your name and where to get the best sake in town? Know someone who’s got quite the problem.”

“You mean yourself?”, you chuckled back, not even realising that you sat down next to him.

“I meant my idiot captain over there, sweetheart. But sure, I’ll take the bait. Am I that obvious?”

“A little.”

“Ouch. And I thought I had to save the pretty girl that entered the lion’s den – turns out she’s got claws.”

“Me? Pretty girl?”, you wondered aloud, leaning into him as soon as he leaned back, like a magnet.

“Uh-huh. You’re the prettiest. Obviously... that's why everyone was looking. Including me.”, Benn replied curtly, as if he was telling you a fact.

Silence befell you two. You were totally flustered, having been verbally disarmed. You… didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t even a heartfelt compliment, but the conversation flowed so easily that it made your heart skip a beat.

“Where’d those claws go now, love?”

Your face was now hot to the touch – and Benn Beckman, of course, noticed it.

SHANKS

9.5/10

Shanks is so different from everybody else… Most people know his name, they fear him greatly due to his status and proven strength. Other pirates quiver in fear as soon as they feel that crackle of energy in the air that almost knocks them out cold if they do not have the courage or power to withstand his Haki. They view him as this legend with a mythical aura, but you’ve known Shanks to be quite the catastrophe, which is funny… if it weren’t for the fact that he, as a leader, makes terrible decisions sometimes.

“Hey, Captain. I am here to bring you dinner because you thought a whole bottle of rum and a pint of beer was enough. How does it feel, hm?”

Shanks could only chuckle in despair, nursing a tall glass of a water like he wasn’t thirsty at all. On top of everything, he leaned against the door frame leading into his quarters with a sway that is just too uncoordinated to be careless. He’s completely and utterly wasted… like he most often is, that fool!

“Ah, my dearest personal nurse. Come in, come in. You can sit… uh… here? Sit wherever you like! Are you going to feed me now?”

...This guy, he always did this! His bedroom looked like a total mess. Sure, you haven’t seen a harbour in two months, which means your supplies were dwindling, which means that everyone was going a little insane, but Shanks was always the most ridiculous. He’s a social butterfly that craves attention, so as soon as he cannot distract himself with strangers, he’s totally trying it on you. It’s become a habit at this point.

“I’m not a nurse, Captain. And you’re not that old to warrant a personal one yet, Sir.”

“Oh~ You wound me!”, he dramatically touched his chest with his sole hand before fiddling with his black coat, “And I thought we had something special. Once again, you let this poor man suffer. Worst thing is that I let you –…”

“–because you love me?”, you interrupted, chuckling disapprovingly.

“–because I love you!”, he echoed immediately.

You sighed. Stupid Shanks. Stupid Benn for making you do this in the first place. Stupid crew for laughing at you when you whipped up some leftovers with a groan. They knew you had a compulsion to take care of everybody on this ship, especially when you’ve been at sea for too long. You liked to keep yourself busy; you were meant to be a free adventurer, not watch Yasopp lose a game of cards for the sixtieth time or sort potatoes in the ship’s hold because most of the unsused ones were sprouting by now…

You hummed, looking away from Shanks as he dug into his food. You instead stole glances around his room, ignoring all the laundry that ended up on the floor. This was someone else’s problem, clearly – you had your own forgotten hamper shoved into the back of your closet to deal with. Once you see a glimpse of freshwater, it’s going to be over for you – you’ll be scrubbing your clothes until you hands are raw and bloodied.

But something else caught your eye.

“It’s actually so sweet that you put up Luffy’s poster over your desk.” You smiled genuinely, remembering how fondly Shanks talked about his little friend from Foosha Village all those years ago. You hadn’t been a part of the crew then – you were far too young to be a pirate at that point, even if you already dreamt of travelling the world. The others frequently talked about it, though.

“W-well! That… that’s because-” The captain almost choked on the kale you gave him, opting for something light and healthy to help with his hangover.

“You��re a great man, Captain.”

Shanks blushed bright red, trying to dismiss your comment with his flailing arm and shy giggles. His legs shifted around under him, which means that the food was just inches away from spilling all over his bed. You just ignored him, knowing that he wasn’t serious. He wasn’t ever serious, he was fun – that’s why you admired him so much. He took all of your anxieties about sailing away since he was so reliable; you owe him so much.

“I still remember it clearly,” you sighed longingly, looking out of the only window in the room that was partially covered by curtains, “Mihawk looked like a man on a mission – the scouts were so scared! But all he did was deliver good news – the best news we got all week at the time. Hope I can meet this Luffy soon; he’s so cute – he’s smiling so brightly in his picture! He must be so happy to be a rookie pirate. Quite the bounty for a rookie, really impressive. I’d love to talk to Luffy, get to know him… see what makes him so special. Nobody should be this cute when they’re so strong!”

“…I don’t think it would be a good idea to meet Luffy, darling.”

“And why’s that, Shanks?”, you replied sarcastically, thinking he was trying to tease you. He was so predictable!

“Because you’re mine, love. Don’t forget it, m’kay?”

...Oh.

Your heart stopped beating for a moment, but Shanks was just playing. He was a shameless flirt, that’s how he got ‘em every time. Ha, two can play that game!

“I… I’d never leave, Shanks. Here to dote on you for life.”

“Good.”, he said, no hesitation in his voice. And, worst of all, he looked really serious about it.

He started eating again, visibly happy. Giddy. That blush of his still hasn't died down. You stayed silent.

…So… Is neither of you going to address this now?!

SABO

8.5/10

“So… this is where it all began, the heart of the revolution. I must admit, it’s more peaceful than I thought… I was expecting oppression and civil war, not… this.”, you mused, petting a bunch of cows as you fed them hay nearby a farm just outside of Foosha Village.

You were here on a spy mission alongside some trusted revolutionaries. Well, you and a certain someone were crazy enough to travel through half the island because it was easier to navigate from East to West, even if your fellow commanders thought the idea was bonkers. You weren’t that high up the ladder, which meant you had a supervisor with you. Someone… who took this mission without a second thought, really eager to see his home once again.

“Well, I can’t promise civil war, but you’re in for a lot of crimes against humanity and a caste system that rivals that of the Red Line once we're within city walls. We’ll just have to climb that mountain there and traverse the Midway Forest until we’re at Gray Terminal. Maybe we’ll climb the walls during the night to be quicker, but we’d have to check for guards first! So we will sleep in the forest. I know just the place! Uh… if it’s still there. I would need to see it first. It’s only going to take-”

Sabo rambled on and on, his expression unusually happy. He hated talking about injustice, but he did love this place. It was clear to anyone that the thought of reigniting lost childhood memories excited him.

He didn’t even notice that he was standing too close to the fence.

“They’re eating your coat, Sabo.”

“W-wah!”, he shrieked, tearing the fabric away from the hungry cattle. He wore an angry grimace, but couldn’t be too mad at them for too long, choosing to pet them alongside you.

Sabo was frighteningly competent for someone so young. Sure, he knew this place like the back of his hand – even if some things had changed – and confidently trod through the muddy paths leading up the mountain all while avoiding groups of bandits whose locations he was strangely familiar with. All the rain that had crashed down the mountain landed in the freshwater rivers near the villages you passed through, which meant everything was surprisingly humid and – despite all the physical ability your boss put you through, it was getting cold once the sun set.

“Are you cold? You can have my coat.” Sabo, thoughtful as ever, enquired. Even though his head was still facing forward, he noticed your discomfort.

“Oh, thanks, but-”

“Here.”

“…Thank you, Sabo.”, you accepted his offer because he had already taken it off…

Sabo took care of his people without putting a moment of thought into his actions. He was protective like that, had a heart made of pure gold. Maybe that’s why he became a revolutionary – it was simply his calling. He would have ended up in this place no matter what. He couldn’t stand the sight of the privileged taking advantage of the marginalised. To him, it was a disgusting display of sin – one that deserved to be felled.

Taking care of others was the right thing to do, but he always took it up a notch when it came to you. Always a tad bit too touchy, always a tad bit too possessive.

“Oh, this is quite the cliff. Come here, take my hand. Hold onto me, and step very carefully. I'll be your guide.”

You tried following his instructions, but you weren’t used to being so close to him. The army didn’t prepare you for this at all!

“Great job!”

It really wasn’t, but Sabo made anyone feel appreciated with his smile. That trait of his took up almost as much space in his heart as his moral compass did.

"You, too!", you replied, smiling, "Thanks for all the help."

"A-ah!", he exclaimed nervously, hiding his face from you, "It's fine. You did most of the sailing, now I have to pull my weight, okay?"

Sabo was a great guy. Maybe too great, because he made you... think. His words - surely he meant them platonically - were... so sweet, all the time.

“You trust me so easily, being with you is so natural...”, he chuckled, looking back at you while trying to hide his smile, “Makes me feel… really special, you know?”

He had some nerve… saying that after he almost made your heart leap out of your chest by pulling you in by the small of your back, helping you cross a tiny canyon… smiling at you like you were the love of his life.

MARCO

7/10

As a ship doctor, Marco had a keen eye for spotting anyone’s ailments. Whatever burdens plagued the crew, he was there to set it straight. You knew that he was attentive and relentless in his care for others, never truly letting up. He always claimed that it was to avoid work – if more people ended up in the med bay, he’d start a riot all by himself, but you knew that it was just who he was.

With such a large crew, he was always busy. You’ve seen him reset dislocated joints countless times, wipe copious amounts of blood off his hands just after rudimentary emergency surgery and make up medical treatment on the go with the little supplies they had…

You thought bothering him with your silly problems would just take some necessary resources away from others. You knew that it wasn’t exactly right to let any problem fester, but you didn’t want anyone other than calm, collected Marco to know about it. You don’t want to seem weak; you were capable and independent, a pirate with a high bounty yourself…

But you didn’t know that Marco had already sniffed you out, eyes always on you.

You were dealing with nightly troubles due to heightened anxiety for seemingly no reason. It was frustrating. This was just your life now, you realised.

You hadn’t been sleeping at all that night, and you knew that it was futile at this point. You knew your body – this was just torture at this point.

Getting up was the worst. You were exhausted enough to feel like the weight of the world rested on your shoulders but, at the same time, worried too much to truly be at peace with yourself.

As soon as you stepped into the empty kitchen to drink some coffee from the day before – yuck – you felt a presence graze your back. Your heart rate kicked into overdrive, adrenaline flowing through your veins and erasing any traces of desperate need for sleep. You probably looked a mess too, but who would be-

“Marco?!”

“I’ve been waiting for you, yoi.”

His tone was stern, but not accusatory. You knew exactly what he meant. Of course he’d been watching, of course he noticed! Those eye bags were probably getting obvious by now, how in the world did you think you could fool someone as intelligent as Marco?!

Instead of the med bay, though, he took you to his room. It smelled like lavender – oh, he’d set up incense. How… nice…

“Drink this.”, he said dryly, handing a mug.

Without even looking at its contents, you took a sip. It was warm milk and honey. The temperature was perfect and warmed you from the inside.

“Marco, I’m sorry I didn’t co-”

“I don’t want to hear it. You’re here now.”, he countered, gesturing towards a plush chair he’d probably stolen from another commander’s room…

You sat down, facing him with shame dancing in your eyes. Though he implied that you shouldn’t worry about it, you felt like a child caught with their hand still stuck inside the cookie jar.

“You can take my bed. I will be here, waiting. Might read a book, but feel free to interrupt anytime. We don’t have to talk, but I won’t leave you.”

…You nodded, smiling ever so slightly. That was beyond kind of him. He was such a good person. You knew that one night of this wouldn’t cure you immediately, but… well, you would definitely come to him with your burdens from now on. You… respected him, just like he respected you by speaking to you in private about this instead of having the crew around.

You were still in your sleepwear, so you got under the covers and stared at Marco, who suddenly hovered above you.

“I hope you’ll sleep well. Again, I’m here. I will be here. You are safe with me.”

With those words, he blew out the candles on his bedside table, giving you one last look before he retreated into a corner of the room where the moonlight shone through.

You turned around, laying on your side. The bed smelled like him – well, of course it did. It was his bed! But you never noticed how pleasant it was. You never noticed that Marco had been watching you, a consistent presence in your life. You never noticed that there was someone who was there… unconditionally.

You were suddenly very nervous for a different reason. Worst of all: you absolutely couldn’t tell Marco about this one either!

COUNTERPART POST - One Piece: Clueless and Clumsy

#fem reader #one piece #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #op x reader #benn beckman x reader #beckman x reader #shanks x reader #sabo x reader #marco x reader #x reader #thetrasha writes

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aikastales · 1 year ago

Text

burnout (jk)

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: jeon jungkook asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend in order to get back at his ex-girlfriend. however, you soon realize his true intentions.

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: bball player!jungkook x student journalist fem!reader

𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾𝗌: yandere, dark romance, slow burn

total word count: 10k

PART ONE

Why was Jeon Jungkook at the Communications building?

He had a red and white leather jacket on top of a white shirt, jeans, and his black combat boots. His long hair was a mess, which you guessed was due to his helmet, and when he saw you walking down the steps of the building, he perked up, smiled, and waved at you.

At first, you weren’t even sure if it was you he was waving at, so you were a bit stunned, and looked over your shoulder. But then, you heard your name called by him. You and Jungkook were not friends. Sure, you exchanged friendly nods at each other whenever your paths would cross, but that was the end of it. In fact, the only reason why you even exchanged those friendly nods was because of Taehyung—your cousin who also happened to be his best friend since preschool. If it wasn’t for him, you and Jungkook would just pass by each other without so much as a glance.

And so, it was only natural that you were confused and surprised when you saw him leaning against his motorcycle in front of your college’s building, apparently waiting for you.

“Y/N, hey,” Jungkook greeted with a smile on his handsome face once he was near you.

Still confused, you returned the smile, adjusting the strap of your backpack hanging over your shoulder. “Hi, Jungkook. Is everything okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, everything is—everything’s fine,” he said. Then, he cleared his throat. “Do you have time like right now? My treat.” He asked, his doe eyes piercing into yours.

You could not believe what you just heard. “What?” Was all you could reply.

Jungkook chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his gloved hand. “I know. It’s a shock, right? Believe me, I am too, but I just really need to talk to you about something. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t so important.”

“Is it about Taehyung? Is he okay? Did he get into trouble?” You asked, alert. It was the only logical answer why Jungkook waited for you and why he wanted to talk to you. Taehyung was the only person connecting the both of you.

Jungkook shook his head. “No, no, it’s not about Taehyung, but he’s fine. He’s in his class right now. Look,” he sighed deeply, licking his lower lip with the tip of his tongue before staring at you once more. “Yiseul, I just really need to talk to you. In private.”

You debated whether to go with him or not. This was Jeon Jungkook. Despite his tattoos, broad shoulders, piercings, and big bike—he was harmless. He was your cousin’s best friend, and even though you two weren’t friends, he looked like he needed one at the moment. Besides, you wouldn’t deny that a part of you wasn’t curious as to why he needed to talk to you. That and the fact that because you had been in love with him since you met him when you were thirteen, how could you say no to something that you had only imagined in your wildest dreams?

“Okay. Okay, let’s go,” you agreed, heart beating rapidly. “Where are we going?”

Jungkook’s smile widened when you agreed. “There’s a basement cafe twenty minutes from here. It’s called Seven.”

The both of you began making your way towards his motorcycle. “Just how private is this conversation going to be?” you asked supposedly only for yourself, but accidentally, you said it out loud.

“I guess you already have an idea on how private it needs to be considering the location,” he chuckled. “But don’t worry—I promise you’ll get home in one piece.”

Jungkook handed you his extra helmet, and you were thankful that you didn’t wear a dress that day. After placing your backpack in front of your chest, you wore the helmet. “Can you give me a hint on what it’s about?”

You couldn’t help it. You were curious.

“I remember you always being curious, Y/N. Glad you haven’t changed at all,” Jungkook said, mounting his motorcycle. “In twenty minutes, you’ll know. If you ride now, you’ll know in fifteen minutes.”

You thought he looked so attractive as he smiled and waited for you on his motorcycle. His smile was so infectious that you couldn’t help but to return it. “Alright, fine,” you say. Then, you mounted his motorcycle, placing your hands on his firm shoulders.

“Ready?” Jungkook asked, placing his key into the ignition, briefly glancing at you.

“Yeah, ready,” you replied. He started the engine and you held onto your backpack for dear life. You had seen Jungkook drive his motorcycle before and the only way you could describe it was fast.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Jungkook drove off.

As promised, fifteen minutes later, you arrived at Seven. It was indeed a basement cafe, secluded from the busy city streets and tucked in between fruit stands and ready-to-wear clothes inside an alley. You were the first to get off his motorcycle, taking your helmet off. Shaking your head, you took in your surroundings while Jungkook took his motorcycle garments off.

The alley was alive with mostly elderly people buying fruits and high schoolers buying the RTWs. The tangerines stood out due to their bright color against the setting sun. You wondered when and how Jungkook came to know the place, if he frequented it, why he chose this place over all other cafes.

“Y/N? Let’s go inside?” Jungkook asked, gesturing to you to enter the cafe first.

You nodded, entering Seven. As a basement cafe, the first thing you noticed were the windows placed near the ceiling. A permanent sepia hue covered the entire establishment due to its yellow orange lights. The walls were painted gray, tables and chairs white. There were only a few tables and chairs, and Jungkook led the way to the one at the very back.

He pulled the chair out of you which you thanked him for, and you sat down. Jungkook followed afterwards, placing the helmets on the table between the both of you.

“What do you want?” He asked, pulling his chair closer to the table.

“Honestly, I’m more curious on why you want to talk to me than have any drinks here,” you told him, placing your backpack on the floor beside your chair.

Jungkook chuckled, leaning his back against his chair. “Alright. Should I just say it?”

You nodded.

“I was hoping that you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend to make Haemin jealous,” Jungkook said so casually that you were completely and utterly stunned. Did you just hear him correctly? Upon seeing your reaction, he continued, “She broke up with me a month ago, and to be honest, I saw it coming already. We were getting into a lot of meaningless fights, always finding faults in one another, and just overall, being toxic to each other. So, when she broke up with me, I did not put up a fight, and just let her be,” Jungkook scoffed, shaking his head lightly. “Then, I learned that she was seeing Han Riyeo, that fucking bastard from Yongsan, behind my back for three months, and I want to get back at her.”

His explanation did not help you grasp what he just said previously. You were still stunned, but you managed to ask, “Why me?”

“For reasons I still don’t know, Haemin was always jealous of you,” he confessed.

Now, that was a surprise. “What? You and I barely had any interaction.”

“I know, but I suspect it’s because you’re there whenever I hang out with Taehyung,” Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, then ran his fingers through his hair. “So? Will you help me, Y/N?”

“This is pretty childish, don’t you think?” you told him, eyebrows furrowed.

Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll pay you. I know you need the money. Taehyung mentioned you’re saving for the deposit on this apartment you want to rent.”

You stared at him, trying to find any trace of mischief in his eyes and body language but found none. Jungkook was serious. A part of you knew that the logical answer would be to decline his offer. It was childish, as you had told him. It was a nuisance and it would do nothing but bring problems and complications in your life. Your life was complicated enough, and you didn’t need to add Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend to your list of complications.

But this was Jeon Jungkook. The person you had been in love with since you were thirteen. The person you supported, cheered on, and loved unconditionally from afar because it was all that you could do. You would be lying if you said that you did not imagine yourself being his girlfriend—going to every game, wearing his jersey, riding his motorcycle, going on dates, taking lots of photos and videos of him, hugging, and even kissing him—because you did, countless times. You would also be lying if you didn’t think that you could love him better than Haemin ever did.

They said love makes you do crazy things. You didn’t think that applied to you. You loved Jeon Jungkook, and you didn’t think that that love would fade anytime soon. So, even though you knew that this was pretend and paid, you said, “Okay. I’ll do it.”

After your orders arrived, the both of you continued your conversation.

“So, how will this work?” you asked, sipping your iced chocolate drink.

Jungkook put up a finger, chewing the cheeseburger he ordered, and afterwards, he replied, “We act like a couple. Go on dates, post them on social media, and all that.”

You were never someone who did things half-assed. If you were going to get paid to fake date someone, you might as well go all out. Also, perhaps, a part of you just wanted to make the most out of being Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend.

“I don’t think that would be enough to make Haemin jealous. If you really want that, we should do the things you either only did with her or promised to do with her,” you pointed out.

Jungkook nodded. “I see. You got a point.”

“So, what are those things? The things you did for her and the things you promised to do with her?”

He inhaled deeply, scratching the side of his nose as he thought. “Well, I pick her up everyday. Take her out on picnic dates, study with her, and I go to her recitals.”

You nodded. “Okay. Then, you should pick me up everyday, take me out on picnic dates, study with me, and well, I don’t really do any recitals.”

“Alright. I’ll do that,” Jungkook grinned. “As for the things I promised to do with her—the first thing that popped in my mind was that I promised I’ll take her to my brother’s wedding.”

“We shouldn’t involve our families in this. Me being Taehyung’s cousin is complicated enough,” you remarked.

“Okay. How about this? We made plans to go out of town during winter break. Do you wanna do that?”

“Where?”

“My sister-in-law runs a small resort in Busan. It’s by the beach,”

You pressed your lips together, nodding. “Okay. That could work.”

“For my part, you have to go to my games. That’s pretty much all you have to do, and of course, the dates.”

“That’s already a given,” you told him. “I’m assigned to cover your games this season.”

“Right. You are the News editor of the Times. I’m honored,” Jungkook placed a hand on his chest, bowing his head at you.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I have a question.”

“Go for it.”

“What will happen when Haemin gets jealous? Will we “break up” and the two of you will get back together?” you asked, cautiously, but also curiously.

“I have no plans of getting back together with her,” Jungkook answered. “But when she finally gets jealous and tells me about it, then revenge is served. I guess then we’ll break up. But don’t worry, I’ll pay you handsomely every time so you could move into that apartment of yours. It’s the least I could do after you agreed to do this with me.”

It shouldn’t have stung the way it did. After all, this was only paid and pretend, but it did.

“Alright,” you said. “We should shake hands on it.”

You extended your hand toward him and Jungkook sealed the deal with his firm handshake. “Starting today, you’re my girl, Y/N.”

You would be the first to admit that looking after Kim Taehyung was something you did out of debt of gratitude toward his parents. After your father passed away when you were only eleven years old, your mother couldn’t afford to send you to school, so his parents financed your education since then and until now that you were in college. You lived with Taehyung at the condominium they bought for him near the university and since you were on scholarship through your membership at the official student publication of Jamsil University, The Jamsil Times, they only paid for your miscellaneous fees every semester.

Because of these, you felt like Taehyung was your responsibility. You had to take care of him, look after him, tutor him, make sure he did all his school work, attend his classes, and be there every time he asked you to. It felt like when it came to him and his parents, you couldn’t say no because if you did, you could easily lose your housing and education.

It didn’t help that Taehyung seemed to attract trouble wherever he was. He even gained a nickname for it in high school which followed him in college, “Trouble Taehyung.” You couldn’t remember the times you apologized on his behalf, woke up in the middle of the night from a call from one of his so-called friends asking if you could pick him up as he was drunk and bruised, and ensured none of his troubles reached his parents.

Tonight was no different.

You woke up from the sound of your phone vibrating against your desk. You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep, studying for your upcoming midterms exam, and when you woke up, you could feel the soreness of your neck and lower back. With one eye open, your vision adjusted to the bright light coming from your phone, and saw Park Jimin’s name flashing on your screen. Immediately, you knew why he was calling you. There could only be one reason: Kim Taehyung.

“Hello?” your voice was hoarse, groggy from your slumber.

“Y/N? I’m sorry I woke you up, didn’t I? It’s—,”

“Taehyung, I know. What happened this time?” you sighed deeply, rubbing your face with your free hand. “Where are you guys?”

“He got into an argument with this guy, and well, it led to a fight. He’s bruised, bleeding, but he refuses to go to a hospital, but—,”

“Hey! Is that Y/N? I told you not to call her, Park Jimin!” you could hear Taehyung’s voice in the background which made you sigh once more. Moments later, it was Taehyung who was on the call with you. “Y/N, sorry. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Jimin’s just a worry wart.”

“Taehyung,” you were tired and it was evident in your tone. “Go to the hospital if you’re bleeding. It might get infected.”

“I can’t,” he replied. “Mom is going to find out. It’s a small world, you know that,” his tone was low, cautious, as though he did not want anyone else hearing him. “I’m fine. I’ll put on some ointment and band-aid and I’m good.”

You wished you didn’t give a shit about him. But you did. Whether it was out of debt of gratitude or not, you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t help him. Perhaps, you had gotten so used to it that it had become a part of you already, like a hobby, like a memory.

“Where are you, Taehyung?”

“Y/N, seriously, I’m—,”

“Taehyung, just tell me where you are,” your patience was wearing thin and Taehyung knew that.

“We’re at Jungkook’s apartment,” he muttered.

Even the mention of his name was enough for the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. Even by just hearing his name, your irritation seemed to slowly fade away.

“Okay. I’ll be there in a while. I’m gonna use your car, okay?”

“Okay. Y/N, I’m sorry,” Taehyung apologized and you could hear his sincerity.

“Don’t be,” you told him as you stood up from your chair. “See you. I’ll hang up now.”

Just how deep does blood run?

You were at Jungkook’s apartment minutes later, thanks to no traffic and him only living fifteen minutes from Taehyung’s condominium. When you rang the bell to his unit, you already expected that he would be the one to answer the door. You just didn’t expect that he would be wearing gray sweatpants and a white loose muscle tee showing off his toned tattooed arm. Seeing him in that light, you couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him. Jungkook was truly a sight to see.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile. “Come inside.”

“Thanks,” you told him, entering his apartment. It was simple, neat, and smelled of vanilla. You took off your shoes by the doorway, placing a hand on the wall beside you. “Where’s Taehyung?”

“Kitchen,” he replied behind you. “Y/N,” his hot breath fanned over your exposed neck, making you shiver. “I’ll linger around you, alright? That way, they could get a hint that something’s going on with us. Is that okay?” he whispered.

His low tone was simply mesmerizing. “Okay,” you breathed out. Thank god you had your hand on that wall otherwise you would have literally fallen.

“Okay,” he chuckled, and led the way to the kitchen.

“Y/N!” Taehyung exclaimed when he saw you. He was sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen island while Jimin looked through the refrigerator.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and made your way toward him, placing the plastic bag you hand in your hand on the counter beside you. Taehyung jumped off the stool he was sitting on, instantly giving you a squeezing hug. He was always an affectionate boy growing up. You weren’t so you found it uncomfortable at first. But the more Taehyung did it, you got used to it.

“Let me see your bruise,” you guided him back to the stool, and began taking out the first aid you bought along the way. The bruise wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. You were expecting that he would have a black eye, a deep cut that would need stitches, but it was manageable by you. Jimin was overreacting, you concluded. “What happened? How did you get this?”

As you began to clean the cut on Taehyung’s cheek, Jimin sat down across from your cousin while Jungkook made his way near you.

“One minute I was dancing next to some girl, the next, her boyfriend landed a punch on my face. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend—she told me she was single,” Taehyung explained.

“Didn’t know my ass,” Jimin scoffed. “Everyone knows Heejin is with Taemin. Everyone also knows that Taemin’s a crazy jealous bastard. You were just looking for trouble, as always.”

“I was not,” your cousin retorted, throwing the medical tape you bought at his friend.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance. “Stop it, you two,” you hissed, pressing the cotton ball a bit harder against Taehyung’s bruise. He winced. “Is that true?” you asked him.

Taehyung didn’t answer. You sighed.

“You knew it was wrong, and yet, you did it anyway knowing it’ll just get you in trouble,” you muttered. “Why did you do it?”

Taehyung sighed deeply. “Because Taemin’s a piece of shit.”

“You’re also a piece of shit,” Jimin snorted. “Both of you are the biggest pieces of shit at Jamsil.”

“Do you wanna get punched?”

“Let’s go right now,”

“Hey, stop it. You’re so fucking loud,” Jungkook reprimands the two bickering men. “You already woke me up from my sleep by going here. Don’t wake up the entire fucking building.”

Moments later, you finished tending to Taehyung’s cut. “All done. Come on, let’s go home.”

Taehyun didn’t protest. You began to clean up your mess, placing everything back into the plastic bag. Silence filled Jungkook’s kitchen. The three of you weren’t close so there were no conversations where all of you could participate.

“Let’s go,” you bowed your head at Jimin as a farewell which he returned. Then, your eye caught Jungkook’s gaze. You weren’t sure what to do. Fortunately, Jungkook was quick-witted.

“I’ll walk you guys out,” he said coolly, pushing himself off of the sink he was leaning against.

“No need. Just go back to sleep. Thanks for letting us in,” Taehyung shook his head, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he passed by him.

“I insist,” Jungkook responded.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Jimin asked Jungkook as he made his way out of the kitchen.

“Yeah sure,”

You followed Jungkook and Taehyung out of the former’s apartment. As you and your cousin slipped on your shoes, Jungkook waited outside his apartment.

“Are you mad at me?” Taehyung asked, meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you assured him. “But you have to stop involving and getting yourself into trouble, Tae. Sooner or later, you’ll end up getting really hurt.”

“I will, I promise,” he smiled at you and you nodded, exiting the apartment.

The three of you walked down the hallway; the two boys walking on your sides. You weren’t sure if Jungkook was consciously doing it, but it was making your heart pound. Whenever your fingers brushed against his, there was an electric shock that flew through your body. And as you reached the end of the hallway and in front of the elevator, and when the doors opened, Jungkook placed his hand at your lower back, gesturing you to enter the lift first.

You looked at him, and there was a knowing smile plastered on his face that made you blush. “After you,” he said.

You were fucking lovestruck.

Championships cast a spell in your school. Jamsil University’s premier sport was basketball and with an all-star lineup this year—it was not even up for discussion that your university would be one of the teams playing out to become this year’s champions.

To say the least, sports were not your thing. While you understood the basics, it wasn’t something you were interested in. Your father had enrolled you in a tennis class once but after witnessing how, simply out, awful you are at the sports, he dropped the ‘I want my daughter to be athletic’ narrative he was going for. That being said, you rarely attended any of the games Jamsil athletes participated in. But seeing as you were assigned to cover the basketball games this season, you had no other choice. Besides, your “boyfriend” was playing.

That’s how you found yourself at the gym of Jamsil, stressed as you took pictures and typed down the game on your phone. Frustrated, you sat on the bench behind you as the bell rang, signaling the end of the first half. As you read the draft on your notepad, you shook your head at the numerous times you used the word ‘tackle’—in your defense, it was all that you could see during the game. It was a particularly brutal game which made you wonder, was the game something more personal for the players? You only heard rumors, after all.

With a sigh, you made a mental note to fix the notes once you’re home. Standing up, you placed the phone inside your jeans’ back pocket and readied the Times’ camera to capture the ‘Half-time huddle’ that Bang Chan, the Sports Editor, had specifically asked you to take. As you made your way towards the basketball team, you took some shots of the audience as well as the Jamsil’s Cheerleading Team performing in the middle of the court. The blaring music and loud cheers from both schools as the cheerleaders performed filled the entire gymnasium, unconsciously making you smile. It was not everyday that you saw some sort of unity at your uni.

You focused your camera on the huddled team of Jamsil but dissatisfied, you tried another angle. Bang Chan’s words play in your mind: “The half-time huddle is one of the most important shots during these games, Y/N. The play they’re setting up will either make them or break them. Make sure you capture it.”

Then, the idea hit you. You hurriedly made your way on the other side of the team, hearing Coach Song’s booming voice telling his players the game even with all the screaming and cheers. You moved the towels and water bottles on the bench aside, then you stepped on it and placed the camera above the huddled team. Smiling, you knew you found the perfect angle. Making sure that the camera was focused, you inhaled deeply and as you were about to click the shutter button—a face turned to face the lens and a gasp escaped your lips, shocked and you felt yourself losing balance. Bracing for impact, you clutched the camera tightly against your chest and closed your eyes with one thing in mind: If this breaks, I am so screwed.

It felt like eternity as you waited for the impact. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of round brown eyes, staring at you in concern, eyebrows furrowed. Your breath hitched in your throat as realization hit you. Around your waist, you felt strong arms supporting you; hot breath fanned your face and you felt something liquid dripping on your forehead.

“Y/N, are you okay?” When he spoke, you immediately snapped back to reality and you wriggled yourself out of his grip—flustered and ground-swallow-me-up embarrassed. Your cheeks were burning as you collected yourself. “Y/N?”

It was as if the entire gymnasium had their focus on you and Jungkook.

“Jeon, what the fuck, get back here,” Coach Song hissed.

Fuck me, you thought as you cleared your throat. “Thanks,” you whispered to him.

Jungkook smiled—the boyishly charming smile that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. Then, he did something that made you fall in love with him all over again.

“Wish me luck, babe,” Jungkook said before wrapping his tattooed arm around your waist and placing a kiss on your cheek. “The game’s on, Y/N. No turning back now.”

You wished this was real. His kiss was real. But even if it wasn’t, indeed, there was no turning back now. The game had begun.

PART TWO

As predicted and expected, Jamsil won the championship. But instead of the student body celebrating the fourth championship in a row, apparently, the majority could only talk about you and Jungkook—specifically the kiss he gave you on the cheek. You had expected this, of course. After all, Jeon Jungkook was Jamsil University’s golden boy. He was popular, smart, and overall, an exemplary student who not only excelled in his sports, but in his academics as well. Moreover, he was also the president of the photography club.

What you didn’t expect was Taehyung lashing out at you. You expected him to be confused, baffled, in disbelief, but lashing out at you? You were confused, to say the least. Taehyung had never done it before.

After finishing covering the basketball game, you hurriedly made your way back to the Publication Office. Once there, you took off the camera around your neck, breathing heavily. With both your hands on your table, you hung your head low, squeezing your eyes shut, and letting yourself calm down. It was during this moment that the door at the office swung open and your cousin stepped in.

You looked at him over your shoulder and for the first time, you saw fury in his eyes.

“You’re dating Jungkook?” He asked. “Tell me the truth.”

With your lips pressed tightly, you nodded. Taehyung scoffed, tilting his head to the side, and shaking it in disbelief.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N? You and Jungkook?” He pressed, taking a step towards you. “When did it start? How did it start? Why are you dating him?”

“I don’t really need to explain myself to you, Taehyung,” you told him. “Especially who I’m dating.”

“Yes, you do. You need to explain that to me,” he retorted.

“Why? Why do I need to explain it to you?”

“Because you’re dating my fucking best friend and you’re my cousin!” He exclaimed, catching you off guard as you flinched. When he saw this, Taehyung’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I just—I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?” you asked, turning to completely face him. “Why someone like me is with someone like him?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I mean,” Taehyung sighed deeply. “I just feel like—like the two most important people in my life betrayed me.”

You exhaled deeply. In a way, you could understand him. You could understand where he was coming from. But before you could respond, Jungkook appeared by the doorway of the office.

“Don’t get mad at her, Tae, it’s my fault for not telling you first,” Jungkook said. He was still in his jersey, covered in sweat, and one hand holding a bottle of red Gatorade. There was a towel hanging around his neck. He walked towards you, and when he stood beside you, he held your hand. “I’m sorry if you feel like we betrayed you. We just wanted to find the right time to tell you.”

“Right time,” Taehyung scoffed once more. “It didn’t look like it when you kissed her.”

Jungkook squeezed your hand. It sent a jolt throughout your body. “What was I supposed to do? My girlfriend was there,” Jungkook’s response only riled Taehyung more. Upon seeing this, the basketball player said, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. But there’s nothing you could do or say that could make us break up, Tae. I’m sorry but you’re just gonna have to deal with it.”

“Can you fucking leave? I need to talk to Y/N privately,” Taehyung hissed, rolling his eyes.

This time, you cut Jungkook before he could reply. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’ll see you after.” You looked at your fake boyfriend, smiling at him.

Jungkook looked like he didn’t want to leave so you squeezed his hand. He clicked his tongue, sighing. “I’ll change and meet you outside the building.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

You nodded and once again, he pressed his lips against your cheek, making you blush but now, out of embarrassment because your cousin was literally in front of you. Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back. “Leave, Jeon Jungkook!” He exclaimed, pulling him off of you.

Jungkook chuckled before making his way out of the office.

Once he was out of earshot, Taehyung stepped closer towards you. “Y/N, you’re right—who you date is not something I should mind or dictate. But you’re my cousin and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt. Jungkook—he’s my best friend in the world and has been since we were little. I know him. So, the two of you together—I just can’t accept it.”

You didn’t know why you were feeling angry as the seconds passed. “We’re not asking for your blessing, Taehyung.”

“Y/N, you don’t understand. Jungkook may be charming and all that goody two shoes shit in front of everyone, but he’s trouble. You’re only setting yourself up for a lifetime of heartbreak,” your cousin shook his head. “Please. Date whoever you want; not just Jungkook.”

“I made up my mind, Tae,” you said, shaking your head. “I want to be with him and you can’t do anything about it. I’m gonna go home. I’m tired and exhausted. I know you’ll be going to the afterparty so please don’t get yourself into trouble. Take care, Tae.”

“Y/N,” he called out but you didn’t respond anymore. You just packed up your things. “Y/N, please.”

“See you at home, Tae,” you gave him a small smile before leaving the office.

Why was he so adamant that you don’t date Jeon Jungkook? This question popped in your head as you were making your way out of the Communications building. But you erased it in your mind—Taehyung was just shocked, probably weirded out too that his best friend and cousin were dating.

Why is he trouble? Another question propped in your mind.

You sighed deeply. All these questions would be answered when you meet with Jungkook as you made a mental note to ask him. For now, you just wanted to rest.

The buzzing sound of your phone vibrating against your desk woke you up from your slumber. With a groan, you sat up, stretching your arms wide, cracking your neck, and letting out a relieved sigh. You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but the last thing you remembered was fixing your planner. When you looked at the caller ID, Jungkook’s name flashed on the screen. For a moment, you were confused why he was calling you, and then it hit you.

I’ll change and meet you outside the building.

You quickly answered the call. “Jungkook, hey.”

“Y/N, are you okay? I waited for you outside the Comm building, but Taehyung said you went home. I’ve been trying to reach you,” Jungkook sounded concerned, in contrast to the sound of cheering and music in the background. He must have been at the afterparty already, you concluded.

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “I’m sorry. I was just tired so I went home. Are you at the afterparty?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “The guys dragged me to it, but it’s not really fun. Or maybe I’m just not in the mood. I’m glad you’re okay though. I was worried.”

Your heart fluttered yet again.

“I’m okay. Have fun at the afterparty,” you said, rubbing your eye with your knuckle.

“Y/N, I was hoping you could come tonight, here, at the afterparty, and start our agreement.”

Just like that, you were reminded of reality.

“Oh,” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound disappointed. “Um, I don’t know where that is.”

It was common knowledge that invitations for after parties at Jamsil for championships were only through word of mouth. Not everyone was invited. The only reason you knew of the location of the last three after parties were because of, again, your cousin Taehyung.

“It’s okay, I’ll come pick you up.”

“I don’t know what I should wear. I don’t go to a lot of parties,” you said, playing with the loose thread on the hem of the shirt you were wearing. It was a habit of yours whenever you were nervous—you needed to play with something whether it was your necklace, earrings, rings, sleeves, etcetera.

“It doesn’t matter. You look good in everything, Y/N. I’m serious,” Jungkook responded. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay? Don’t worry too much about what to wear. Just wear what’s comfortable.”

“Okay. Drive safely, Jungkook.”

When the phone call ended, you were reminded of what tonight would be, and gone were the worries about what you should wear. Tonight was going to be the night you were going to officially begin helping Jungkook take his revenge on Haemin. You felt like throwing up.

You were hit by the reality, once again, of what this agreement was about. Jungkook wasn’t being sweet to you because he wanted to but because he needed to. He wasn’t inviting you to the afterparty because he wanted to but because he needed to. He was only talking to you because he was paying you. It was time for you to take things at face value. With that in mind, you began to change.

True to his word, Jungkook arrived fifteen minutes later. It was a whiplash when you saw him at the door, waiting for you instead of your cousin. Wearing a white Calvin Klein shirt tucked under his washed jeans, black combat boots, and his curly hair parted in the middle, he was nothing short of beauty even in the simplicity of his attire. In one hand, he was clutching a denim jacket.

“Hey,” he greeted as soon as you opened the door. “You look great, Y/N.”

You suppressed the urge to smile and just nodded. Stepping outside of Taehyung’s condominium unit, you avoided his gaze. “Let’s go.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

You nodded, clutching the strap of your messenger bag. “Everything’s fine. Let’s just go. Where’s the afterparty anyway?”

“Y/N,” Jungkook’s hand found its way gently around your wrist, stopping you on your tracks. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Jungkook. I just really wanna get over this,” you said with a sigh.

“I don’t believe you,” he pointed out, still holding onto your wrist. “We don’t have to go to the afterparty if you don’t want to.”

“No, let’s go. Otherwise, how will you make Haemin jealous?” you stated, plastering a smile on your face even though you were anything but happy. “The sooner she gets jealous, the sooner she will want to be with you again, and the sooner I’ll get my deposit, and move out from here. The sooner everyone wins.”

There was an indescribable expression on Jungkook’s face. Although his grip on your wrist remained gentle, you could feel the tension brewing between the both of you.

“You’re right,” he muttered after a while. “Let’s get this over with.”

As expected, the afterparty was at a club. You hadn’t been to one but it was exactly as you expected a club to be. Packed with dancing college students, drinks everywhere, smoke in the air, suffocating you the moment you entered the establishment, blinding red, blue, green lights, and booming EDM and Top 40 hits songs blasting on the speakers. Jungkook led the way, holding your hand tightly, and you held his just as tight. You didn’t know where he was taking you, but you guessed that it was where Haemin would be. After all, she was the reason why you were here.

So, it was a surprise when you passed by her and her friends, and toward the staircase.

“Jungkook! Where are we going?!” you yelled over the loud music. .

Jungkook didn’t respond, but you knew that he heard you because he pulled you closer to him. And you let him lead you because it was him. You’d let him lead you anywhere if it meant being this close to him. Because no matter what you tell yourself—that this was all fake and pretend and paid—a part of you would always, always believe that he, in some way, reciprocated your feelings sincerely.

Jungkook passed by the people greeting him along the way until, finally, you reached the empty rooftop. Overlooking the city and its skylines, it was simply breathtaking. There were only broken benches, bottles of beers and discarded cigarette buds on the rooftop along with cracked pots of withered flowers. Here, Jungkook let go of your hand, reached for something from his denim jacket’s pocket—a pack of cigarette and lighter—and offered it to you.

“I don’t smoke,” you simply stated. It was news to you that he smoked. You knew athletes were forbidden due to health reasons, but you weren’t also naive that you didn’t think some did.

He nodded, picked one from the box, placed it in between his lips, lit it up, and began to smoke. You took a deep breath, and made your way toward the edge of the rooftop. Moments later, Jungkook was beside you.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he said, the smell of cigarette strong, making you nauseous. But you didn’t tell him that.

You thought hard. Jungkook knew nothing about you besides being Taehyung’s cousin. It shouldn’t be that hard but it was, for some reason. And so, you said, “There’s really not much that you should know.”

To which he replied, “Oh, come on, there must be something,” He nudged your side slightly, letting out a chuckle as he took a long drag. “Don’t think too hard. Just tell me the first thing that comes to your mind.”

And so, you did. Before you knew it, you said, “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

“Seriously?” Jungkook asked, but it wasn’t in the disgusted, you’re-in-your-twenties-and-yet-you-haven’t-kissed-somebody kind of way. It was more of a genuine shock. Like it was the hardest thing in the world to believe in.

You chuckled, nodding. “I don’t know. I just feel weird about it.”

“But were there any instances where you came close to kissing somebody?” he pressed, flicking his cigarette.

“Of course, but when it came to it, I just couldn’t. It just didn’t feel…” you trailed off, unsure of what the right word was.

“Right?” Jungkook suggested and you nodded. “I see.”

“How about you?” you asked. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“I want to be somebody’s first kiss, and that somebody happens to be you.”

He was the only one who could do it—cause your heart to do somersaults inside you while also making it beat so fast that you were afraid he would hear it. It was the way he stared at you at that moment, eyes flickering from your eyes which reflected the cityscape below you and the smoke from his cigarette to your parted lips, unsure of what to say from his revelation.

“Do you think it’d feel right if I kiss you, Y/N?”

And like always, your mind and heart screamed: this was Jungkook. Who else would you want to be your first kiss? Since you were thirteen, you had been in love with him. You only imagined this in your head, in your wildest dreams.

And so, you nodded, afraid that if you spoke, no words would leave.

Jungkook nodded too, and he crushed his cigarette on top of the edge of the rooftop. He stepped towards you, cupped your face, and for a moment, the world stood still. Closing your eyes, you waited for his lips to crash onto yours.

And when it finally did, it was nothing that you had ever imagined.

No sparks.

No fireworks.

It was simple, mundane, ordinary—it was a kiss.

You held onto Jungkook’s wrists as he deepened the kiss, and yet, there were still none of the romantic aspects that you thought would happen during your first kiss. Even when Jungkook moved his hands from your face and around your waist, nothing. It tasted so bitter due to the mix of nicotine and beer that he had.

But you didn’t mind. You were kissing Jeon Jungkook, your fake boyfriend, at a party, where all his peers were. And for that, your first kiss was still memorable.

Oh, how Jeon Jungkook twisted your world.

PART THREE

You had no recollection whatsoever of what happened last night; much less how you got back to your shared condominium unit with Taehyung. But if you were to guess, your cousin probably brought you home as you vaguely remembered him being at the afterparty—much to his chagrin that you came with his best friend. Other moments were like missing puzzle pieces. You only remembered flashes, and you groaned when you felt the throbbing in your temple became stronger.

Usually, you could hold your liquor better than this. In fact, this was the first time, in a long while, that you could remember having a hangover. Your mother was your drinking buddy—started drinking with you when you were a junior in high school, and although she shouldn’t have done that, you didn’t mind. Your mother was a great mother. Your mother was your best friend. Your mother was a great parent. Yes, she had her shortcomings, but who didn’t? Certainly not you. You remembered the first time she asked you to try Soju, and subconsciously, it brought a smile to your face, and a low chuckle to escape your lips. You made a mental note to text her later.

As you left your bed, there was a knock on your bedroom door. Knowing it was your cousin, you told him to come in while you fixed your bed, and looked for your phone in the process.

“Your phone’s in your bag,” Taehyung muttered as he stepped inside your room, and leaned against the wall of the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “I brought you home too. Jungkook wanted to, but he rode a motorcycle, and you were wasted. It wasn’t safe.”

You nodded in understanding. You figured out that much. Like what Taehyung said, your phone was indeed inside your bag. Quickly, you unlocked it, and checked your notifications. Some were just annoying spam emails, app notifications, and automated messages from your SIM provider, but there was one message that made your heart beat quickly due to panic that you didn’t even notice Jungkook’s message.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you,” Taehyung said.

“We will talk, but not right now, I’m late for my tutoring session, Tae,” you hurriedly told him as you texted your tutee that you would be late, but that you would come since it was his midterms next week.

“Y/N, I’m serious. I still don’t approve of you and Jungkook dating.”

You should have expected this. In the years you spent with Taehyung, you should have known that he wasn’t the type of person who could accept “no” as an answer, and not getting what he wanted when and if he wanted it. You thought it only applied to everything else in his life; apparently, it also applied to your dating life.

“Taehyung, haven’t we gotten over this? Who I date is not yours to dictate,” you shook your head, sighing deeply as you gathered everything you needed for your quick shower. You were definitely not going to attend your tutoring session dressed from last night, and smelling like beer and nicotine.

“Jungkook’s a piece of shit as a boyfriend, Y/N. He’s crazy possessive and he gets so fucking jealous. His charming persona is just that—a persona. I don’t want you to get hurt by him, Y/N, please.”

The desperation in his voice was evidently obvious. When you looked at him, you were unsure of what to say. How could he say that to his own best friend?

“If he’s like that—,”

“He is like that,”

“Then why are you still friends with him?” you asked, pointedly. When Taehyung couldn’t give you an answer, you nodded. “Right. I thought so. I’m going now, Tae. This conversation is over.”

When you arrived at Jamsil’s library, you were forty five minutes late to your session with Yang Jungwon, a freshman from your program, Journalism with a major in Investigative Reporting. You found him in your usual spot, writing away on his yellow pad while nodding his head along the music he was listening to. Inhaling deeply, you made your way toward him. When you were finally near him, you tapped on his shoulder, causing him to jump a little, but when he saw you—his deep dimpled smile appeared on his face.

Yang Jungwon was like the little brother you never had but wished you had. You felt bad for thinking that way because you had Taehyung, but as stated, looking after him felt more like a responsibility you had no other choice but to take upon. With Jungwon, even though you were paid to help him with his studies, it never felt like a responsibility to you. You enjoyed spending time with him, helping him out, and sometimes, if the conversation steered into the direction, you enjoyed your deep and meaningful conversations with him.

You smiled back at him, and took the seat beside him, sitting on it. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Jungwon. You can tell your mom that she doesn’t need to pay me for this session.”

He shook his head. “No, noona. It’s okay. I didn’t mind the waiting. I got to use it to answer your mock tests.”

“Really? Let me see. What did you answer first?” you asked, taking your messenger bag off of your shoulder, placing it on the table.

“The Contemp—,” Jungwon began to say, but then he stopped, which caused you to tear your gaze away from the mock test in your hands, and to your tutee. You followed his gaze, and to your surprise, you saw Jungkook sitting across from you and Jungwon with a gentle smile on his face. He had his lip ring on—it was the first thing you noticed about him that day.

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. Why did it feel like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do? Why did you suddenly feel anxious?

Taehyung’s words rang in your ears: He’s crazy possessive. His charming persona is just that—a persona.

Was all of it true? Was that the reason why he was here? Because you were with another guy?

“I guess you didn’t read my message, babe,” he chuckled. “I told you not to buy lunch anymore because I cooked some for you. Here, you can share it with your friend…” he trailed off, politely smiling at Jungwon.

“H-Hello, I’m Yang Jungwon,” Jungwon stammered, starstruck that Jamsil’s golden boy was talking to him.

“Hello, Jungwon. It’s nice to meet you. You can just call me hyung,” Jungkook turned to you. “I’ll get going now, okay?” He pushed the lunch box towards you. “Eat. There’s hangover soup in there too.”

You gave him a look to which he grinned at. “Ah, don’t worry, Jungwon. She can tutor you even though she’s dr—,”

“Okay, thank you, Jeon Jungkook,” you interrupted him, making his grin wider. You shook your head at him, but you couldn’t hide the blush coating your cheeks from his sweet gesture. Then, you wondered, as Jungkook took his leave, did he do the same thing to Haemin?

“I didn’t know you and Jeon Jungkook hyung are dating,” Jungwon brought you out of your trance, gaze finally now upon him rather than the absent figure of Jungkook.

“Yeah, it just happened,” you said to him. “But come on, let’s focus on your mock tests.”

Yet despite saying that, you were the one who couldn’t focus because the only thing in your mind was: how did Jungkook know you were at the library?

Taehyung’s words plagued your mind the entire day. Even while you were working, all you could think about was his words about his best friend. How could he say those things about Jungkook? Someone he’d been best friends with since they were little? Why was he so adamant about you not dating him? Taehyung usually kept a distance from your personal life, not even asking about your mother because he knew of the complicated relationship your family had with his family. So, why was he all over your case now that you were “dating” Jungkook? You couldn’t understand. You couldn’t wrap your head around it.

Although you confirmed with the library interaction that Jungkook wasn’t the possessive type, seeing as he just walked away after giving you the lunch box, and even let Jungwon call him hyung, there was still that nagging thought in your mind: what if Taehyung’s word held weight? What if they were true?

You thought about it: if they were true, even when you were only fake dating, would he still be as possessive as Taehyung said he was? What happened for your cousin to even tell you something like that?

Your thoughts were put on a halt when your manager called for your name. You worked as a part-time waitress at a restaurant called Rado. You used to be a full-time employee, but since you were in your last year of uni, you asked if you could still be employed on a part-time basis, and fortunately, your manager, Han Somin, agreed.

“Yes, Ms. Han?” you asked as you entered her small office inside the employees’ locker room.

“Y/N, hi, come inside, I just have something to tell you,” she said, taking her eyeglasses off, and kindly smiling at you. You nodded and did as told. “It’s nothing serious,” she continued, which alleviated the nerves sinking in your bones. “I just wanted to ask if you wanted to be part of this party we’re catering to on Saturday. It’s a listening party for an artist named J-Hope; he released a new album. Maybe you’ve heard of him.”

You shook your head. “No, Ms. Han. But I’d love to be part of the staff. Where would it be held?”

“It’ll be held at his label’s function room. I’ll send you the details, alright?” You nodded, then she dismissed you, and went back to work.

Money had always been a sensitive topic for you. Growing up, you knew that you didn’t have a lot but you were comfortable due to both of your parents’ wages. Your father was a simple office man while your mother had her own small flower shop. They were able to provide for your basic needs and wants but when your father passed away—your mother’s earnings at the flower shop weren’t sustainable. Hence, at an early age, you learned how to look for jobs, and learned the value of money and earning it. Hence, the reason why, besides loving Jungkook all your life, you simply could not half-ass fake dating him because it was innate in you that when you do a job, you give it your hundred percent.

Part of you wished you didn’t have to worry about your finances. That, like other students at Jamsil, you could have fun and enjoy college life without worrying if you would still have a roof over your head eve though you failed an exam or if you would still be able to eat the next day if you buy a food late at night because you were so hungry that you couldn’t sleep.

Having money meant having freedom to do all the things that you wanted to do—and you weren’t free. Not yet, anyway, but moving to your own place was a start. That’s why no matter what people say, you would see fake dating Jeon Jungkook through because whether you liked it or not—he was the key to your freedom.

Saturday rolled around quickly. Adorned in your Rado’s uniform—a simple white linen long sleeve polo shirt, black slacks, black high heels, and your hair pulled back to show your face—you were already at the label’s function room preparing for the listening party of J-Hope. His music had been playing since you got there and you felt yourself being immersed and vibing to it that you made a mental note to check his other songs out afterwards.

You were in charge of the food and drinks. Ms. Han was also present to supervise and with you was your co-worker, Kang Seulgi, and Kim Hanbin. It was an intimate type of party; hence, the small group of staff and catering.

“I wonder who we’ll see here,” Seulgi told you as she placed the food fingers on the table while you poured drinks into the glasses.

“I heard it’s just indie artists that J-Hope invited. It’s the target audience for his album, you see,” Hanbin piped in, fixing his necktie.

“Whoever it is, I’m sure—,”

“Kim Y/N, it’s nice to see you here,”

You only heard that voice a couple of times but you wouldn’t mistake it for another. It was ingrained in your mind so deeply. It was the voice of the person you hoped was you for a long time—who got to touch, kiss, hug, care, and love Jeon Jungkook for four years. It was the voice of the person who was Jeon Jungkook’s first love, and most likely still loved. It was the voice of the person that was never going to be you in his life. It was the voice of:

“Lee Haemin.”

PART FOUR (a sneak peek)

“Lee Haemin.”

In one word, she was beautiful. Dressed in a small black dress with thin straps and a pair of black heels, her silky black hair pulled back, showing off her idol-like face, Lee Haemin was just a sight to behold. Smiling at you, she took a step forward.

“Is it okay if we talk?” she asked.

As though you were hypnotized, you nodded wordlessly. A part of you already knew what the talk would be, or at least that’s what you thought. Nodding back, Haemin smiled at Seulgi and Hanbin before leading you out of the function room and somewhere more private. She opened a door leading to what seemed like the conference room, and gestured that you enter first so you did. She followed in suit, and you took a short time to look at your surroundings.

It was all white with an oval table in the middle and black swivel chairs surrounding it. Adjacent to you were the ceiling to floor windows, showcasing the city landscape. Connected at the top was a projector and on the left side was a projector screen. You wondered how Haemin got access to such room, and as though reading your mind, she said:

“My family owns a stock, if you’re wondering why I got access to this room. We can pretty much use any room in the company.”

Nodding your head, you turned to face her. “I see. That’s great. I didn’t know that.”

“Not many people do,” she answered. “But that isn’t really why I wanted to talk to you.”

“I know,” you replied. “You wanna talk about Jeon Jungkook.”

Haemin smiled. “I heard you’re dating him.”

“From who? Taehyung?” You knew they were friends. Not exactly close, but they were acquainted due to Jungkook.

She shook her head. “From Jungkook." Stunned, your mouth parted ways a little. Haemin smiled. "Surprising, I know, but it truly was him who told me that he was with you."

"Why would he say that to you?"

"Because he loved me first."

And it was the truth. The truth hurts but it was the truth nevertheless. You weren't the first person he ever loved, ever had a deep and humane connection with. Everything about your relationship was a lie, a cover up. Theirs was true and real. Jungkook loved Haemin; not you.

Forcing a smile upon your face, you answered, “He loves me now. I don’t see the point of having this conversation, to be honest.”

“No, he doesn’t love you, Y/N. He wants you. Those two things are different,” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Hence, Haemin continued, “Loving someone lights up your world. Wanting someone, now that’s a different thing. To want something is to own it.”

“And your point? Jungkook wants to own me?” Even your words sent shivers down your spine. You loved Jungkook since you could remember. But did you want him to own you?

“Yes,” she replied. “Jungkook’s the type of person who gets and gets and gets and never likes to not have what he wants, what he needs. I’m telling you all these because prior to him dating you,” she smiled when she said ‘dating’ as though she knew it was only fake. “He lost me. Now he’s trying to get you to get me back, to own me again. But I don’t want that anymore. I don’t love him anymore. Don’t trap yourself. Get out as early as you can.”

You didn’t know what to say. So, you did the only thing you could do: walk away. But then Haemin called your name, and you stopped on your tracks, looking at her over your shoulder. “Don’t let love blind you, Y/N. I know you’ve loved him for years, but he’s only going to break you—mind, body, soul.”

“Thank you for the advice, Haemin,” you told her. “But I didn’t need it. Please respect my relationship with Jungkook. Thank you and enjoy the night away.”

author’s note: hey guys. again, so sorry for deactivating all of a sudden. i know this isn’t much but i hope having a sneak peek into chapter four brought you a bit of joy and excitement. feel free to send me asks regarding burnout and other things. see you in price of freedom next. i’ll be posting it again on tumblr for easy viewing but it’ll also be on hold for the time being. thank you and much love, aika.

#yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fics #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #yandere bts #jeon jungkook #yandere jeon jungkook #burnout by aikastales #aikastales

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nicholastcall · 1 month ago

Text

2 am.

haechan! sub x f.reader! soft dom | smut (mdni) | wc; 2.8k

desc : You and Haechan have been friends for some time now. After a late night conversation, it is followed by something you never expected coming.

⚠️ content : begging, riding, sweat, praise, d in p, unprotected sex (stay safe irl), bondage, eating out, pet names, finishing inside, slight body worship, oral (f. receiving), subtle aftercare

a/n : Hi everyone !! I wanted to branch out for who I'm writing so I hope you guys enjoy this one, it's also my first f!reader fic so hopefully it isn't too bad lol

You and Haechan are laying down together having late night talks one night. Topics being thrown out left and right, from embarrassing high school memories to funny date stories you two haven’t told each other quite yet. The room was filled with nothing but your voices - no cars, no tv, not even a cricket could be heard.

Then, the topic came up - sexual fantasies. You two had been close for a while but really haven’t talked about sexual experiences outside of your guy’s first times. The tenseness in the air thickens when this topic comes up as you deep down had slight feelings for Haechan, you just couldn’t tell him. Your chest clenches and your muscles tighten as silence soon follows.

“Well, I’ll go first since I brought it up. I’ve always wanted to have someone on top riding me. I’m always on top of the person I’m fucking and I get tired after a while so I just wanna sit and relax and enjoy it.”

Fuck. All you could think about was you on top of him, bouncing up and down on his cock, sweat dripping from your body onto his bare chest. His head tilting back from the pleasure and the quiet curses coming from his throat. Your arousal slowly hit you and you visibly became more red as your mind roamed wild with your imagination.

You close your legs to hide it but your skin was as bright as a tomato. There was no hiding how turned on you were. Haechan turns to you to hear your response to be met with your visibly flustered state. He smirks knowing what effect he has on you and goes back to staring at the ceiling.

“What about you y/n, do you have anything you’ve ever wanted to try?”

In the moment you freeze and your brain is racing at a million miles a second. You try to think of something, anything to say to him but the words won’t come out. All you could think about was his dick inside of you and how badly you wanted to experience it.

Then you think of something - bondage. You’ve always wanted to try to be in control in the moment but have never gotten the chance to. You’ve always thought about it with Haechan. You’ve heard him whine over not getting his way. Beg for something when you’re keeping it away from him. You knew it would be such a sight to see while fucking him. So you take a deep breath and start to open your mouth.

“Actually, there is one thing. I’ve always wanted to tie the person’s wrists to something. Or even together. I want to know what it’s like to have power in the moment.”

Chills went down your spine as total silence fills the room following your response. You don’t dare move as you don’t want the moment to become even more awkward than it already was. The atmosphere in the room completely changed after your response - the air heavier and your breathing becoming more shallow.

Haechan flips himself to lay on his stomach as he moves his hand to graze over your thigh. Your muscle quivers at the sudden contact and a gasp is released filling the once silent room. You look down at him and catch his gaze - the hunger in his eyes evident. You could sense his desire for you in that moment growing, becoming stronger.

He slowly slides up your thigh, feeling every single twitch throughout your body. Your chest rising and falling faster and faster as he gets closer to your core. You want to stop him but your body responds otherwise. You deep down want this - desire this. He stops right at the waistband of your shorts as he stares into your eyes with a hungry grin.

“How about we kill two birds with one stone?”

Time felt like it slowed down at that moment. You stared into each other's eyes with lust, desire, need. Seconds felt like minutes. You felt like your breathing was slowing down at the intensity of the situation he put you in. Never in a million years did you think your friend of so long would ask you to have sex. Let alone someone you’ve craved for so long.

Your heart speaks before your brain as you nod at him in approval, giving him the green light that you want this too. He smirks once again in satisfaction as he gives you light kisses along your thigh as he pulls your shorts down. The warmth of his lips melted onto your exposed skin filling the cold air that hit moments prior.

Your head rolls back as you feel him shift in between your legs. The weight of the bed causes your lower body to slightly dip as he lays in front of you, licking up your thigh. He finally reaches your core as he starts teasing it with his tongue. Your arousal becomes more and more evident as he licks up your clothed folds, causing you to moan out loud.

He lifts up after some time of teasing you to look at your fucked out face. Mouth open and chest rising and falling deeper than before. Your cheeks flushed out as subtle moans leave your throat from the feeling of him leaving you.

“Fuck baby, all this just from me teasing you? You must have really wanted this.” You couldn’t respond to him, just heavy breathing escaping your mouth as you try to calm down from the pleasure. He goes back in, hovering above your cunt, pausing to see how desperate you are. You feel his breath on your wetness and arch into him at the feeling.

He moves your panties to the side and starts devouring you. Your juices spread all over his face as you reach into his fluffy brown hair and take a handful of it into your palms. You pull him closer into you desperately as he groans into you. The sound of his tongue lapping over your wet pussy and his satisfied groans fill the silent room as you start to feel heavenly. His name soon becomes the only word you remember as your legs start to shake around him.

He hooks his arms around your bare thighs holding you in place as his tongue dives deeper in you. Your head tips back from satisfaction as his tongue slowly fucks into you. You feel the heat inside of you and your muscles tense up as you start to reach your climax. Haechan can feel you tighten everywhere, hear you get louder. He knows you’re close too.

“Fuck Haechan, I’m so close.” His tongue’s pace fastens as your back starts to arch off of the bed. Sweat dripping down your face as you feel your climax edging you. The erotic noises from you cause Haechan to become hard, his tent evident in his pants as he starts to grind on the bed to find some relief.

He continues to eat you out as he groans into you more aggressively. He brings a hand from your thigh back around to your cunt as he starts rubbing circles on it. The sensation was too much for you, almost causing you to scream at the feeling of him.

Mixes of explicits and his name leave your mouth as you came on his face. The climax hit you like a truck. Your back arching off of the bed as the sound of slurping radiates from your core, Haechan licking it up as you finish. Your hand tightens its hold in his hair causing him to grunt from the feeling, smirking into your soaked pussy.

He comes up, your juices all over his face as he licks his lips. Your stomach tightens at the erotic scene in front of you, and you look down and notice his hard cock in his pants. You bite your bottom lip as he comes up to meet your lips with his. You taste yourself on his lips and you reach down to palm his cock through his pants. He moans into your mouth, high pitched and so needy.

“You can still give me another one, right y/n?” He says as he moves his lips to the skin of your neck. You tilt your head to the side to give him more room to contact. The feeling of him groaning on your neck while stroking his erection was almost too much.

“Y-yes I still can” You muster up the strength to mutter out. You take the buttons of his shirt into your hands to slowly start undoing. The golden skin of his peaking through the newly made opening almost calling your name. He leans off of your neck to allow you to remove his shirt to reveal his lean figure. You stare at the sight in front of you, taking it all in.

He shifts back onto you capturing your lips into his as he grinds his erection into your soaked crotch. You wrap your legs around him as you feel his long, hard cock tease your entrance with slow strokes. You hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself. Haechans head dips back from the satisfaction your pussy is giving him, clearly forgetting what you two are supposed to be doing and wanting to get himself to his own climax.

You regain control of yourself and push himself off of you, now positioning himself kneeling in front of you. You reach up and undo the belt to his pants quickly. Your need for him inside of you at its peak and you couldn’t wait any longer.

You remove the belt from the loops and flip him over to your former position so you’re straddling his lap. His hands on your hips as you create friction between you and his cock. The feeling of it teasing your core even more made you restless. You needed him inside of you now or it was going to drive you wild.

“My turn to make you feel good.” You grab his wrist and raise them to the bed frame. You take the belt you removed from his pants and use it to tie him to the post. Haechan moans a little at the feeling of being tied up. Not because it hurts, but because he is enjoying this a lot more than he expected.

You finish with the belt and fall back to his lap. The newly exposed skin, the flexed biceps from his position, the messy hair on him. Your arousal was coming back - and was harder. You slide back to grab the waistband of his pants. Haechan licks his lips as you slide his pants down along with his boxers in one push.

His cock springs out and slaps his abdomen when it comes out. His hard, long cock was leaking with precum at the tip from the prior actions of you two. You lick your lips at the sight as you reach out to grab his length. Wrapping your fingers around his cock makes him shutter. The satisfaction of finally being able to feel pleasure was very evident. His abdomen contracts as you apply more pressure, defining his toned stomach. His arms tensed, flexing even more as he was trying to move.

You stroke his cock, making it leak more of his built up juices as you lean in to lick up the mess. The feeling of your tongue dragging from his base to his tip had him moaning your name. The combination of your tongue and hand working his cock and the restraints on his wrists were driving him crazy. Back arching against the bed, the room was slowly filled with his quiet moans and you giving him slow, long strokes.

“Y/n your tongue feels so good. Please don’t stop, wanna cum in your mouth baby.” You stop licking his cock to look up at him, still stroking him but slightly faster now. His breath becomes more ragged and unpredictable. His chest muscles rising and falling even faster than before, you can tell he’s close.

“Not yet Haechan, what’s the fun in that? You can hold on for a little longer right? I still haven’t even gotten to ride your cock yet.” His face becoming more red, he nods to let you know he can continue. You smirk as you leave small kisses on his body. From his cock, the sides of his thighs, up his abdomen, his chest, the creases on his armpits, his neck, up to his face.

You reposition yourself on top of him, teasing his now bare cock with your pussy. Your hands on his sweaty, bare chest, you begin to slowly move up and down rubbing yourself on him. The wet sounds coming from you were heaven to both of your ears, causing both of you to moan. Your hot breath on each other's mouths as you soak his cock in your juices.

You reach down to grab his cock in your hand. You feel his body twitching under you, the need of your pussy around him evident. The needy look in his eyes as he’s under your mercy makes you twitch above him. The power of being in control felt so good you didn’t want this to ever end.

You finally line his cock up with your hole. The wetness from your arousal allows an easy entry to your tight pussy. The slow burn of him entering you gradually turned into a pleasurable pain. Your mouth agape as you sank down onto him, using his chest as an anchor for you. You finally sink down onto him as he whips his head back in pleasure. The tightness of you was too much for him to handle, he couldn’t stop the sounds coming out of his throat.

You sit there as you both let out moans, adjusting to his size. After some time you slowly start to move. Up, down. Up, down. A steady rhythm was set as the sound of skin on skin fills the room. The wetness around his cock became more and more noticeable as you bounced on him.

“Fuck y/n, just like that. Don’t stop, that tight pussy around my cock feels so good.” Haechan let out as you leaned forward to capture the taste of his skin on your tongue. You took advantage of the vulnerability of his position. You licked everywhere on his body, the control making you feral. You captured his neck, his chest, his armpits, his biceps, everywhere with your tongue. The saltiness of his sweat and the musk coming off of him makes your arousal a multitude stronger.

Haechan is squirming under you, unable to move, all he is able to do is take what you give him. His back arches off the back, his muscles tightening throughout his whole body, he was losing control of himself as he was reaching climax. He stares up at you, basking in what is in front of him. His fucked out face looking back at you as you lean back, using his thighs to support your rhythm as you move harder on his waist.

As you switch to this angle you feel his cock twitching inside of you while hitting deep inside of you. The spot you could never reach with anything he was hitting like it was nothing. Your head tilts back as the sensation brings you closer to your high. The rhythm you set became more sloppy as you were chasing both of your highs.

“Haechan I’m about to cum!”

“Let it out please, cum around my cock. I want to feel your juices all around me. Show me how good I’m making you feel.”

His words were the final push as you came harder than last time around him. Your pussy clenched around him, making him moan out loud with you. You slowed down to come down from your high, but Haechan wasn’t done. He started slamming into you from below, head tilting back into the pillows, hands holding onto the bed frame. You lean forward from the overstimulation of your clit, sinking your face into the side of his neck.

“Fuck, I’m about to cum.” With that he released inside of you. You felt his dick twitch inside of you as he filled you up with his cum. You sit there for a moment, the two of you coming down. You push yourself up as you get him out from inside of you. You moan at the feeling of him leaving your hole as you reach out to his wrists to untie the belt to release his wrists.

After releasing his wrists you both lay together. He wraps his arm around you as you lay your head onto his chest. You stay that way for a little bit until you look up at his sweaty face.

“Hope you enjoyed your fantasy Hyuck.”

“Same to you y/n. We should've done this earlier, that was amazing.” He says to you as you lean up to give him a kiss then both fall asleep in each other's embrace.

#nct dream smut #nct smut #haechan smut #haechan sub #kpop smut #nct dream fanfic #haechan x reader

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noctiva · 4 months ago

Note

reader and Toby get into a heated argument which leads to hate sex and Toby is SOOO mean the whole time like degrading, spiting on reader, choking her whole nine yards and reader tries to stay mad and keep their attitude during all this but just totally crumbles and becomes sooo pathetic - 🪽

OOOOOOOOH MAN mean!toby… the way to my heart truly.. I know this is a request but writing this was very self indulgent I was kicking my feet giggling writing this

Unbearable

Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW!]

WC: 8.4k

Summary: Fighting with Toby is always a lost cause, because it’s just a case of two stubborn forces butting heads with one another. It all just comes down to who caves first (spoiler alert: it’s you. It’s always you.)

CW: explicit sexual content, toxic relationships + behaviour, I repeat - they are so toxic, this is not healthy relationship behaviour!, they fight and Toby’s an asshole about it, possessive and jealous behaviour, degradation, choking and asphyxiophilia, biting!!, biting and blood!!, very dead dove, rough handling, rough sex, outdoor sex, semi-public sex, toby being so fucking mean I hate him, mocking, face slapping, spit and drool, overstimulation, arguably CNC, but it’s alllll consensual, just maybe not safe or sane, hate sex!, multiple orgasms, dom/sub undertones, unsafe sex, creampie, hair pulling, dacryphilia, putting this here again bc I have to make it clear toby! is! an! asshole!, they make up at the end, but again - toxic, did I say dead dove? because dead fucking dove.

Reminder to separate reality from fiction!! Some of the acts written here are definitely not meant to be endorsed or romanticized irl! Stay safe!

NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

“You don’t have t-to be such a bitch all the t-time.”

That, is what set you off.

Those words, spoken in that stupidly nonchalant tone of Toby’s as he milled around the kitchen after a mission, looking through the cupboards for a snack to ease his rumbling stomach.

And maybe, he was just tired. Maybe, he was just irritable because the mission had taken a lot longer than he was hoping it would. Maybe, you were both too cranky to have a proper, civil conversation. Maybe, maybe, maybe. What was certain, was that those words had pissed you off, because they had been said in response to you telling him it would be nice to know if he’d be home for dinner, so that you could be prepared for it.

And yet, despite your words so clearly showing your care for him, he decided the best plan of action would be immediately attacking you - like some stuck up teenager with his head up his ass. You loved Toby, you did, and you found more and more reasons to every single day - but, he also gave you more and more reasons to be left seething on the couch while he padded around the house as if he had done nothing wrong.

He was exhausting to deal with, just as much as he was a joy to be around. It was something you had gotten used to, chalking his snippy attitude up to just being a side effect of the strenuous line of work he found himself to be a part of. But, it got to a point. Got to a point where you just couldn’t excuse it anymore, especially when you had spent the greater half of your day tidying up after him. Making sure the cabin was nice and spotless, so that he wouldn’t have to do so much as lift a finger when he got home.

“Is that what I am?” You snap back to him, one hand on your hip with your eyes trained on his back as you watch him in the kitchen - peeling open a pack of chocolate chip cookies before promptly shoving one in his mouth. “I’m a bitch, because I want to know what time you’ll be home?”

“Uh, yeah. Y-You really want me to re-repeat myself?” His voice, partially muffled by the half-chewed cookie in your mouth, just proves to stoke the flame of anger brewing within you. You feel your eye twitch, and somehow you manage to just get angrier when Toby turns around to look at you. It’s the nonchalance on his face, like he couldn’t see a single reason in the world why you’d be getting so upset over his choice of wording. It’s maddening really, how this argument had barely even started, and yet you already felt like you were two words away from fucking strangling him. “I’ve t-told you before, I can’t predict how long these- fuck! -these things will take. Maybe, if you listened-“

“I do fucking listen, Toby!” You snap back at him, cutting him off so swiftly it makes his expression harden. You can practically see the switch in his brain flip, when he realizes that this wasn’t just going to be another one of your little spats. You were mad at him, actually, genuinely mad at him. Brimming with anger as you stood before him, jaw clenched and fingers curling into fists down at your sides. “All I do is fucking listen, and be the perfect little homemaker so that you don’t have to do jack shit when you get home.” You lift a finger to point at him, and his eyes narrow. “But you don’t seem to give a shit about any of that.”

“W-What?” Toby takes a step forwards, bringing with him an aura that was so imposing it nearly made you shrink. Thickening the air around you, making your lungs feel tight as he imposed on your personal space. Another step, he takes, then another, before tilting his head down to look at you - making it all too clear who would really have the upper hand if things went far south. “I’m supposed t-to pat you on the back be-because you swept the fuh-fucking floor?” His growing annoyance only made his tics worse, sporadic jerks of his neck and shoulders making him look all the more intimidating as he glowered down at you. “I just spent f-five fucking hours in the d-damn woods, hunting down four people all on my own b-because Brian and Tim were t-too busy to help.” You swallow thickly. “But when I come home, d-dead tired, the first thing I’m supposed to do is thank you for doing the ff-fucking dishes?” He rolls his eyes. “That’s the least you could do.”

“The least you could do, would be to at least be a little bit appreciative.” You spit back at him, crossing your arms over your chest and standing your ground though the weight of his presence was making you tremble.

You didn’t often think about what it might be like to be one of Toby’s victims - but standing there right then with him towering over you, the look in his eyes so cold it brought a chill to your veins - you could really picture it. Really picture the fear that he struck people with, before stealing their last breath. “You’re barely around anymore, y’know? And when you are, you’re like this.”

“Like what?” Toby presses, tilting his head down more to encroach further into your personal bubble. Those words were bait. And if you took it, you knew that this fast devolving conversation would just take a turn for the absolute worst.

But well, he had already resorted to name calling, so why couldn’t you?

“Like, an asshole.” You grit out, taking a step forwards as proof of your resilience, even when faced with a man you knew was dangerous. Toby wouldn’t really hurt you. You knew that, you hoped that, and yet pushing his buttons was still something that made your stomach twist. It was the knowledge that, if he wanted to, he could. Easily. Could probably incapacitate you before you even realized what had even happened. Knock you out cold with a swift jerk of his arm. He wouldn’t though. Not to you. That’s what you were banking on. “Like some self-centred prick that I can barely stand being around.”

Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but the point still stood. And you really, really, just wanted to get it through his head that as of late, he really hadn’t been acting like ‘boyfriend of the year’ material. Was that something you should expect, from a literal axe murderer? Probably not. But he used to be better. A new, heavier workload on his shoulders was forcing a strain onto your relationship that you hadn’t been prepared to face.

Toby was barely home. And when he was, it was for mere hours at a time. He barely touched you, barely kissed you, apparently finding a quick peck on the lips before he left again to be an adequate amount of affection. He was hardly present. When he was by your side, he was mentally distant. Never letting you peer into his mind, most likely for your safety, but forcing a wedge between the two of you nonetheless.

At the root of it all, your anger stemmed from sadness. Sadness, because you missed him. Missed the Toby that had stolen your heart, went out of his way to do stupid things just to earn a laugh from you, showered you with love every moment he got, and hated leaving your side for even a moment.

But, all those cushy soft emotions were hidden under the hardened shell of annoyance that had built up over time. And so, you were left spouting awful, awful words at the man you loved so dearly.

Hoping that maybe, this would be what cracks him.

“You c-can’t stand being around me?” Toby’s eyes flash with something you can’t quite decipher, but it looks far too close to hurt for comfort. Whatever it was, he masks it quickly, covering the rawness of his emotions with that same passive expression he wore so often. “That’s c-cute. Why’re you still here th-then?”

“That’s not even funny.” You hiss, words laced with venom as they drip off of your tongue. “You know I couldn’t leave if I wanted to.”

“No, b-be my guest.” Toby snorts, sarcasm laced around every letter. You knew, that arguing with him was a lost cause. You had been down this road before, and it was much more beneficial to just roll over and let him believe that he was in the right. Not today though. As you had said before - it got to a point. “The d-door’s right there if you hate me so much.” He gestures towards your front door in a mocking manner, eyes locked on yours the entire time.

“As if it would be that fucking easy.” You spit back at him, before promptly turning on your heel. Unable to stomach another moment of eye contact with him. Those eyes, weren’t the ones you had fallen in love with. They were lifeless, filled with the type of malice you never would’ve dreamed he’d direct at you of all people. It just made you angrier. Angry at the fact that he felt like he had a reason to be mad at you. “Acting like one of your buddies wouldn’t track me down and kill me for ‘knowing too much’.”

You stalk out into the living room, and you hear him follow behind you, the heavy soles of the boots he hadn’t taken off tracking dirt against the hardwood floors you had just cleaned earlier that day. “I don’t have a choice, you know? I have to either put up with you, or die, those are my only options.”

“‘Put up with m-me’?” When you turn around once more it looks like Toby had quite a lot to say about that choice of words - jaw clenched with his eye twitching - but he bites his tongue. Choosing instead to say; “A-And you act like it’s my ff-fucking fault. You knew what you were getting into w-when we started dating.”

“I didn’t!” You spit back at him, chest tight with anger as you force the words out of your lungs. “You told me you were a fucking hunter!”

Toby barks out a harsh, dry laugh, his eyebrows crinkling together in disbelief as he stared down at you. He looked almost amused, in some sick sense of the word, soft snorts of laughter bubbling from his lungs before he’s able to speak again.

“D-Don’t tell me you actually believed that.” He chuckles, raising an eyebrow. When the only response he gets is a quiver to you pouted lips, it just makes him laugh even harder. “H-Holy fuck, you did. I- chirp! -I didn’t think you were that- that fucking stupid.”

And with that, he’s managed to stun you into silence. The absolute disconnection and lack of accountability for throwing you into such a volatile way of life was sobering. He didn’t look the least bit remorseful, or even just a little bothered by the fact that he had effectively stolen away your freedom as a normal member of society. He hadn’t taken you hostage, you had agreed to be with him despite his flaws - but to pin all of the blame on you? That was just insanity.

You gaze at him with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as you try to shake the shock from your bones. Toby, either just isn’t patient enough to wait or simply doesn’t care, because before you can form a proper response he’s turning on his heel and walking back into the kitchen. All while muttering; “‘Hunter’… Fucking idiot.” Under his breath.

Christ, he just didn’t know when to stop today, did he?

“Do you hear yourself?” You tell after him, snapping out of the stupor he had frozen you into. You don’t move from where you’re stood though, knowing that keeping distance is probably the smartest move. “You can’t fucking speak to me like this.”

“W-Why not?” He asks, refusing to meet your eye. “Normally it gets you t-to shut up faster.”

Every time he opened his mouth, it just got so much worse. And maybe, the reason he wouldn’t look at you was because he knew he was in the wrong. Wouldn’t be able to stomach it, if he saw the unbridled wave of hurt that coated your entire expression when what he said sunk in. You blink a few times, and almost feel the need to rub your eyes in disbelief - because there’s no way he actually just said that to you, right? Had your boyfriend been swapped out one day, replaced with someone who looked just like him, but was filled with spite instead of love?

It sure seemed like it. The more you stared at him he didn’t even look like the Toby you knew anymore. Pale skin somehow paler. Sickly. His chiseled jaw too sharp, cheeks too hollow, the normally well-kept stubble on his face obviously a few weeks past being properly groomed. His under-eye bags were darker, and his eyes in general were… Deader.

Had something happened to him? He wouldn’t tell you, even if it had.

“Fuck you.” You hiss back out to him, and if your mind wasn’t so clouded by anger you wouldn’t shocked yourself with the amount of malice you managed you pack into those two words. You spit them out at him like you were trying to wound him, and it almost works - you see his shoulders tense up completely.

But his ego, his horribly inflated ego, just couldn’t let him back down. Couldn’t let him realize that he was doing a lot of damage, and that he should really stop while it was still reversible.

So his shoulders relax, his neck cracks in a way that was extremely unsettling, and then he’s muttering;

“Y-You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He picks at his fingernails absently, still not lifting his gaze to meet yours. “You sure that’s not w-what this is all about? Just mad I haven’t been giving it to you lately?”

Maybe. Partially. But not the fucking point. And the way he was treating all of this like it was just a joke? Yeah, you felt pretty close to jumping to kitchen counter and fucking killing him.

So, you choose the less violent route instead.

You don’t respond, you simply turn on your heel and start walking. Through the living room, on a beeline towards the front door.

That, had Toby’s gaze flicking up immediately. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. Out.” You snap back to him, already slipping on your shoes and grabbing your jacket. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen Toby move faster in his life once he realizes that you’re serious - crossing the living room in large strides, in just a matter of seconds.

“N-No you’re not.” His voice holds a tone of finality, but you couldn’t give less of a shit. You weren’t about to start taking orders from a man who had spent the last half hour making a complete mockery out of you.

“Why not? You do all the time.” You cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowed as you glare up at him.

“B-Because I know how to deal with what’s out there!” Toby borderline growled back at you, jerking his arm towards to window as a means to enunciate his point. Towards the forest outside, that your little cabin resided in. The forest that you knew was teeming with genuine monsters, and people that were closure to monsters than humans. Toby, being one of them, when he wasn’t at home with you. “It’s- It’s late, and the sun’s going down. You cannot go out there. Jack’s probably-“

“Jack’s probably out hunting, I know.” You cut him off in a tone so cold he can’t even mask it when it visibly startles him. “I don’t give a fuck. He’d probably treat me better than you do anyway.”

A disastrously low blow. Such an egregious thing to say, even in your fit of anger, that you regret it the second the words slip off of your tongue. Because in general, that’s just such a horrid thing to say to the man you love, but saying it to a partner that you are well aware has some pretty unresolved jealousy issues?

Yeah, you just dug your own grave and laid in it.

You freeze after you speak, and the silence that follows makes your skin crawl. You stare up at Toby with bated breath, watching as shock settles onto his expression - and you know the worst is yet to come. It seemed like it took him a moment to really process what you had just said, or maybe he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Hoping that, you’d backtrack, or correct yourself and clarify that’s not what you meant.

But you don’t, too stunned at yourself to even speak another word.

And that’s when everything blows up.

Once the shock drains from his face, Toby looks like you just slapped him. His expression crumpling, eyebrows furrowing together as a mixture of hurt and anger flooded his eyes. You could practically feel his temper rise, the air around you growing thicker and thicker the longer that he just stood there and stared at you like you had insulted his entire being. Maybe you had.

And then;

“W-What the fuck did you just say?” His tone is dangerous, holding an undeniable threat that shook you to the core. You couldn’t think of a single instance in the years you had been together where you had actually been scared of Toby (besides the day you had found out what he really did for a living) but right then, you were fucking terrified.

Suffocated by the fury in his eyes, feeling like you were being choked by the weight of the tension around you. It had never been more clear, who exactly you were dating.

Someone who could - might - hurt you.

And your fight or flight instinct kicked in fast. So fast, that Toby didn’t even have time to react before you were whipping open the door and darting outside. Down the steps of the front porch, feet crunching leaves under your feet as you sprint off into the very woods he warned you against traversing day after day.

Toby wastes no time perusing you. He is on your trail in a matter of seconds, bursting through the door after you with all the practiced ease of someone who had done this chase many, many times before. You hear him bark out your name after you, the low growl of his voice echoing through out the forest - bouncing off the trees to meet your ears and send a shiver down your spine. “G-Get the fuck back in the house!”

“Fuck you!” You scream back at him, still running though your lungs were starting to burn. The air around you was cold, stinging your skin and biting through your clothes to rise goosebumps on your arms. Your heart was racing, pounding so loudly in your ears that you could barely even hear the sound of your own feet hitting the ground. You could hear him though, gaining on you fast - boots snapping sticks beneath the soles. “Get the hell away from me, Toby!”

“Fat chance!” Toby snarls back at you, and fuck he sounds really close now. You won’t look behind you, knowing the sight of him would only make you falter - but you know it’s probably fruitless anyway. He’s close, and just gaining on you by the second. “You th-think you can just say that shit to me and then r-run away?”

His fingers graze your back as he reaches out to grab you, and you yelp, just barely steering clear of his grasp. “What the fuck is wr-wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” You push forwards through your legs are starting to ache, lungs burning with each cold breath of air that you suck in. “What’s wrong with you? You started this by being a dick for no reason!”

“At l-least I didn’t- didn’t threaten to fuck one of your friends!” Toby reaches out again, and this time - he gets you. Fingers curling into the hood of your sweater, yanking you backwards with a force that made you choke and wheeze - hands flying up to try and claw yourself free of his grip. It doesn’t work, of course it doesn’t, but he does release you a few seconds later, only to shove you to the forest floor below you. Your back hits the ground and nearly knocks the wind out of you, eyes blowing wide as you struggle to take in a few panicked breaths.

“I never said that!” You grit out, going to prop yourself back up on your elbows but he promptly shoves you back down with a boot to the chest. He pins you down that way, nearly crushing your ribs under the weight of his body as he stands above you - absolutely teeming with unspent rage.

“No? You didn’t?” Toby sneers as he glares down at you. In the low light of the forest, he looks even more intimidating. The low lighting casting stark shadows against all the high points of his face, his eyes glinting with something downright maniacal. “W-What were you implying then, huh? Saying he could- fuck! -could treat you better than me?”

His boot leaves your chest and then he’s dropping down onto you, knees digging into the ground on either side of your hips - pinning you to the forest floor with his body weight. “Y-You really want a piece of that fuh-freak?” Toby reaches down and grasps your face roughly, fingers digging into your cheeks so deep it forces your lips into a pucker. “He’d bite your p-pretty little head off.” He leans in close, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against your face, and he looks like a beast. Snarling, twitching, shaking from the potency of anger flowing through his veins. Not looking the least bit fazed when the legs he had pinned down started to kick. “I-I’m a fucking saint, compared to the rest of them. You’re l-lucky I’m the one you met first.”

“Lucky?” You somehow managed to keep up the attitude despite the absolutely humbling situation you found yourself in - pinned to the forest floor by your serial killer boyfriend. And yet, it’s the closet you’ve been to him in days. The longest he’s held you in weeks. “Yeah, I sure feel lucky right now.” You spit out another wave of sarcasm as you struggle against his grip. “Get the fuck off of me, Toby.”

He doesn’t listen, predictably. If anything, your words just fuel him.

“And y-you wonder why I call you a bitch.” He hisses, the sting of his nails biting into your jaw making you wince. “M-Maybe, if you stopped acting like one, I’d stop calling you one.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a prick, that might happen.” Again, you struggle, straining against his unyielding grip as a strained whimper of pain slips from your lips. You make no progress though, forced to be at the mercy of this unmoving force above you. “Get off of me, asshole!”

“Fuck no.” You can feel rocks and twigs biting into your back, your face throbbing where he’s gripping you so harshly. “A-Act like a bitch, get treated like one.” His hand slides down, curling around your throat instead with a grip just as mean. “Maybe I’ll j-just tie you up and leave you here. Let ol’ Jackie find you.” His eyes are feral as he gazes down at you, as is the smile that stretches across his lips - uncanny sharp canines glinting in the low light. “That’s what you w-wanted, right? Wanted him to treat you good?” You were really kicking yourself for letting those stupid, stupid words slip before. You should’ve known he was going to fixate on them. “I bet he’d t-treat you real good, actually. Would really make you scream.”

Your breathing comes out as a wheeze as his palm presses down against your windpipe, restricting your airflow and making your vision swim. He’s done this before, in a much different situation (when you asked him to), but this time around you’re not too sure he’d stop if you asked him. When little black dots start popping up in your vision, your stomach flips in fear.

But, why the hell would you make things easier for yourself?

“I hate you.” The words come out as more of a wheeze than anything, but they do the job nonetheless. The job being, just riling Toby up further.

His fingers tighten around your throat, and your eyes widen even further - legs kicking and arms flailing when you feel your airway close up completely. You knew he was strong, but being at the mercy of his strength was something else entirely.

“You h-hate me?” He spits leaning down lower so that his nose is pressed to yours. “You don’t fucking hate me.” He says it like it’s a certainty, like there’s not even a single possibility that his words might be true - and the worst part is, that he’s right. Because you don’t. You don’t hate him, even as your vision starts to go fuzzy. “I-I could turn you back into a lovesick little slut in ss-seconds. I’d love to hear you try and say that you still h-hate me when I’m stuffing you with my dick.”

You must be sick. Or maybe, just unfulfilled as of late. Because as horrible as it was, his words sparked up something within you. Something that desperately wanted that, something that would kill to feel his bare skin against yours once more - even if it was just to get his anger out.

And you must not have masked it as well as you would’ve wanted to - too preoccupied with trying not to pass the fuck out - because you watch through blurry vision as Toby’s grin widens into something menacing. “I knew it.” He laughs - not the warm, sweet sound you had grown accustomed to - this laugh was bitter, and cold. “Look at you, p-practically drooling at the thought of it.”

He releases your neck, to which you greedily gasp in air so quickly it nearly makes you choke, before you feel a sharp sting connect with the side of your face. Not hard enough to make the skin smart, but hard enough to shock you - because did he actually just fucking slap you? “F-Fucking whore.” He did.

Too stunned, you barely have time to think before you feel Toby’s rough fingers curling under the fabric of your hoodie. In a matter of seconds, he’s practically ripping it off of you. The cool wind hits your bare skin and makes you hiss, goosebumps immediately trickling up your arms and across your chest.

“Oh, fuck off, Toby.” You grunt, bringing your arms up to shield your chest from his hungry gaze. “We are not doing this here.”

He snorts out a laugh as if you had told him a joke, and shakes his head. Not listening at all, as his hands trail down your stomach, finding a home at the button of your jeans.

“And why would I l-listen to what a whore has to say to me?” He mutters, already popping the button of your pants and tugging down the zipper even as you try to jerk your body out of his hold. His fingers scratch at your skin as he starts tugging your jeans off with an insistence you could only dream to fight against. “T-Talking about letting Jack have a p-piece of you.” Fucking hell, this again? “Gotta remind you what you already have.”

He tugs off your jeans so harshly that you hear them tear, the fabric buckling under the force of his grip. And now, pinned to the forest floor beneath him in nothing but your underwear - it’s really setting in what situation you had gotten yourself into. How did the day end up like this? Just one horrible decision after another leading to you trapped beneath Toby like prey for him to feast on, with the cool night wind nipping at your skin and leaving you shivering.

“Give it a rest, Toby.” You huff, trying again to wriggle away from him but failing yet again. “You really think I meant that?”

“I don’t c-care if you meant it or not.” He snaps, your hips jolting when his fingers slide down towards your panties. Giving you no warning before his touch meets the front of your clothed cunt, pressing against your clit in a way that had you gasping. “The fact that you e-even fucking said it is enough.”

It’s around then, that you realize something absolutely horrific. Absolutely mortifying. With calloused fingers roughly rubbing your core through your underwear, you’re getting wet. Actually, getting wetter. You realized it the moment he tugged your pants off, the coolness between your legs when the breeze hit your cunt - you had been getting wet from Toby pushing you around like a cat batting around a mouse. And that… That was fucked up.

And Toby knows that too. “You’re already so f-fucking wet.” He growls. “And I’ve barely even touched you.” With this new revelation, he wastes no time slipping underneath the waistband of your panties instead, sliding his fingers through the wetness accumulated between your folds. “What a stupid slut. I c-coulda killed you, and yet here you are, soaking your panties.”

“F-Fuck you.” You bite out, your shoulders bowing and back arching against the forest floor as he rubs rough circles against your swollen clit with his thumb. Your teeth grit together, so tight you’re almost afraid you might crack a tooth. But right now, you’d much rather that than to accidentally let a moan slip out. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. He didn’t deserve it.

“I know you’re impatient, b-but at least he subtle about it.” He doesn’t let up in his ministrations, playing with your clit as his other hand comes up to roughly grasp your tit. Gripping it hard enough to make you wince, maybe even enough to bruise. And it’s stupid, how good it feels. “You still hate me? S-Say it again.”

“I hate you.” You don’t even hesitate, taking the bait eagerly as you feel him nose into your neck, stubble scratching against your skin.

“Hm. I’ll follow back up on that later.” Then you feel his lips part, and you’ve been under Toby enough times to know he wasn’t going to just gently kiss and lick your skin. Especially not right now. So, the sting of his teeth sinking into your neck is expected - but that doesn’t lessen the pain any. It’s a dull ache, and then it’s a sharp skin.

When he breaks skin, it’s a blinding pain. Your vision goes white for a second, your whole body goes rigid as absolute agony ripples through your veins. It’s a pain that couldn’t be described, unless you were there to experience it. A pain so ruthless, that the scream that tears from your throat because of it sounds almost inhuman.

A shrill, desperate cry, like a wounded animal. Echoing throughout the forest like a taunt. “Oh that’s good.” Toby mutters once he tugs his teeth from your neck, gazing down at the gruesome indent of his teeth in your skin. Watching as blood pools in the deepest pits of the wound, before it starts trickling down your neck. “K-Keep on screaming. Anyone who could hear you doesn’t care.”

And then he’s biting down again, just a few inches lower than the first one. Pinching your skin between his teeth with a pressure that makes your head spin. His jaw locking into you as your fingers pick up in speed - rolling your clit beneath them with an unrelenting force. Ruthless, in every action. Overwhelming your body on every single front. Pleasure, pain, it was difficult to even tell the two apart anymore when both were so intense that your ears were ringing. “‘I hate you’ she says.” Toby murmurs in a mocking tone against you, his lips smearing your blood across your skin. “A-And yet you’ve stopped fighting. Why? Feel too good?”

Yes. But you weren’t going to tell him that.

Not that it mattered anyway, because your body was going to give you away regardless. You could feel it, that familiar heat, almost mocking in the way it just kept burning hotter and hotter even with all the violence being dealt upon you. Your stomach was twisting into a knot, hips bucking and twitching as you tried to hold back.

You were failing, miserably, because Toby was hellbent on making you fail. He wanted you to crumple, wanted to wipe away that attitude you were still clinging to so desperately. He wanted to break you down, and to your detriment and his gain - he knew just how to do it. His hands had roamed this body a million times before.

He drags his head down your chest, and uses his free hand to push your bra upwards - freeing your breasts to the cool night air. He captures a nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue against it as his fingers pinch your clit, and your thighs start to shake. He grazes it with his teeth, then biting down with enough pressure to make you wince - and you’re done for.

Your hips buck off of the ground when your orgasm hits you with full force, the intensity of it nearly knocking the wind from you as your vision goes fuzzy. Your own voice sounds faraway and foggy, but you know you’ve failed at keeping your moans held back - because your jaw has gone slack now. A chorus of desperate, choked out sounds spilling from your lungs as drool drips down your chin.

And it’s humiliating. Absolutely humiliating how good he makes you feel, even when he’s being such an asshole. Even when he’s throwing your body around like a toy.

That feeling of shame only intensifies, when you hear Toby snicker. A cocky, self-satisfied sound - mocking in its nature. “H-How ‘bout now?” He chuckles against your skin, before leaning his head upwards to stare down at you. His chin dripping with your blood, teeth stained with it when he cracks a grin. His eyes are wild, glinting with a crazed sheen that makes your whole body feel cold. “Still hate me?”

“You-“ Your voice cracks, raw and strained from all of the screams and moans that had ripped out of your lungs. “You think that changed just because you made me cum?” You try to glare at him, but your convincing factor was gone now that you lay quivering below him - streaked with your own blood and slick. “I can do that myself.”

“I bet you can.” Toby laughs wickedly, his eyes never leaving yours even as his hands travelled to the buckle of his belt to pull it free. He’s quick with it, and in a matter of seconds the belt’s undone, his button’s popped, and his fly is tugged down. “B-But not like I can.” You watch with rapt attention as his thumbs hook under the waistband of his boxers - no shame in his actions as he lets his cock spring free.

And god dammit, it’s been too long. You try to hold it back, but you can feel drool pool in your mouth just from the sight of him. Thick, long, and so unbelievably hard. Flushed red at the tip, leaking precum that was just begging to be lapped up by you.

Maybe he deserved to be a little cocky, walking around with a dick like that. “O-Oh look at you.” He slots himself between your thighs, tugging your panties to the side before grinding his length against your slick folds. Coating himself in it, rocking his hips against you, really letting you feel the size of the cock you were about to be stuffed with. “You’ve practically got hearts i-in your eyes, baby. You can drop the act.”

Both hands curl around your waist, fingers sinking deep into the soft flesh - and you can’t hold back the whimper that falls from your mouth. “Just ss-say it. Say you missed my dick, and maybe I’ll forgive you.”

“Forgive me?” You jolt when you feel the head notch on your entrance for just a moment before it’s slipping past it again - nudging against your clit instead. “Y-You were the one being an ass.”

Toby hums softly, not looking at you, too preoccupied with watching his cock slide against you. Glistening with slick already and he hadn’t even sunk into you yet.

“M’kay, make it harder for yourself.” He mutters, before finally lining himself up properly. “I d-don’t mind.” His hands pin your hips to the ground, leaving you nowhere to run as the head of his length slips past your entrance - and despite it being awhile, you should’ve known he wasn’t going to be gentle. He practically rams his cock into you, filling you up in a motion so quick it wipes every single thought from your brain.

Your body doesn’t even know how to respond to it, really, your pussy spasming and twitching around him as it struggled to accommodate to the mind-numbing stretch. Your hands fly up immediately, instinctively trying to push at his chest, but the other half of you (the stupider half) was what took over. You push against his chest weakly just once, before your fingers are curling into the front of his shirt - knuckles going white from the force of your grip.

Your whole face was scrunched up, tears springing to your eyes and clinging to your lashes from how overwhelmed you were. It hurt, of course it did, being stretched open around him without an ounce of care, but that fullness. God, it just felt so right. Felt like everything you had been missing over the past few weeks. You could feel him throb inside you, pressed so deep it made you dizzy. You can also feel, all of the anger within you fizzling away.

Just like that. Because he had been right earlier, unfortunately. “F-Fuck-“ Toby groans out, his eyebrows pinching together. An expression of unbridled ecstasy washing over his entire face. He takes a moment to savour the moment - just a moment - before he starts pounding away at your cunt like he owned it. Barely letting you adjust, snapping his hips into you with an intensity that stole all of the air from your lungs. “F-Forgot how good this pussy is.”

And the way he says that, he nearly sounds lovestruck, awe dripping off of every letter. But, then he had to go and ruin it. “Too bad it belongs t-to such a stupid bitch.”

And you can’t even respond, you want to so badly, but with how he was drilling his cock into you the only sounds you’re capable of making right now are downright pitiful gasps and moans. He was fucking the daylights out of you. Fucking you, like it was the last thing he’d do on this godforsaken planet. Like he was trying to mould your body to the shape of his cock, carving open a path that only he could fill. Leaving you absolutely ruined, for if you ever did run away with someone else.

You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. Not when the pleasure he was dealing upon you was downright godly. Rough, aggressive, but so fucking good. Making you gush all over him, coating his cock and staining the front of his jeans every time he sunk into you. “C’mon, say somethin’.”

The feeling of his palm connecting with your cheek again barely even sobers you. The sting is welcomed, because it only deepens the pool of ecstasy he had thrown you into. Even more so, when he does it again to the other side of your face. The force of it, making your head crack to the side.

Cheeks stinging, tears rolling down your face, and dirt caked deep into your hair - your whole body was melting. Absolutely melting for him as his hips slammed against yours. “Say it again. S-Say you hate me.”

And you know he’s asking again, because he knows that he’s gotten you. You’re a pathetic mess on the ground below him. You don’t even have to see yourself to know that. Taking his cock like he hadn’t been insulting you since he got home. Like he hadn’t been insulting you while inside you. It’s degrading, and completely demoralizing - but that’s not all it is.

It’s the passion you had been missing. It’s his hands gripping your hips like letting you go would physically wound him. It’s the sound of his husky grunts and groans. The feeling of the wounds on your skin throbbing, while his cock pulses inside you.

It’s what you had been needing. Being his again. Being the object of his obsession. No work, no missions, no distractions. Just you, him, and the sticks digging into your back. This forest belonged to the two of you right now, all the dangers living within it fizzling away to create a sanctuary made to take you apart.

The ground you laid on, an altar where you sacrificed yourself to the man above you.

“I-“ With your cheeks streaked with tears, you can barely speak past your sobs of pleasure - hands slipping upwards to claw at his shoulders, pulling him in closer though he was the one dealing all the damage. You didn’t care. You just needed him. That’s what this had all been about, after all. “I don’t-“

“You don’t?” Toby’s hands slip under your thighs and press them upwards, folding you until your knees nearly touch your chest - spreading you open as wide as could be for his taking. And his stamina, never falters. Just one after another, he deals these brutal thrusts upon you, the head of his cock abusing your gspot every time he snapped his hips back in. He was downright punching the moans out of your lungs, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your thighs and scraping against it - leaving angry welts behind that you knew you’d feel the sting of later. “Say it proper.”

It’s a tall order, considering that you can barely breathe. More so just a puddle of drool and tears beneath him, than a person who could form coherent thoughts. You can barely even feel the scrape of bark and rocks against your back every time your body slides across the ground from the force of his thrusts. Mouth hung open, but producing nothing but intelligible babble choked out between sobs. Eyes squeezed shut because you couldn’t even see properly even if they were open, vision blurred with tears you couldn’t blink away.

He had, effectively, completely broken you down. He had the moment his cock slipped inside you. And the worst part was that he knew this is how it was going to go down, he knew that you’d crumple the moment he sunk in balls deep. He had said it himself; ‘I-I could turn you back into a lovesick little slut in ss-seconds’.

And he had. Almost laughably easily.

“T-Toby-“ You cry, hands clawing upwards to tangle in his hair, tugging at the strands so hard that the sting probably would’ve buckled him if he could feel it. “I-I didn’t mean it. I don’t-“ A particularly harsh thrust makes your eyes roll back, stars dancing behind your eyes as your words choke off into a moan. “I don’t hate you. I c-could-“ He’s not making it easy to get a full sentence out, with the way he was seemingly trying to pound you into the ground. “I could never! You- You were just being mean.”

A sniffling, blubbering, sobbing mess. That’s what Toby was staring down at as he bruised your cervix. Such a pitiful sight that it made his chest twist, so incredibly beautiful throughout it all, that it sent a shiver down his spine. You just looked the most lovely like this - completely broken down. Crying for him while taking his cock so wonderfully.

He can’t help it when his expression softens. Can’t help it when the lingering annoyance started to morph into affection.

Could you blame him? You looked like an angel. An angel he had soiled, and ripped the wings off of.

So, he caves too.

“I know I was.” He murmurs, the grip on your thighs lessening a little bit. Leaving a sting behind but soothing it as his thumb smooth over the welts. “I know. I was r-real fucking mean.” The force of his thrusts doesn’t weaken, but he does slow down just a little bit - finally giving you a chance to catch your breath. “W-Wasn’t even mad at you. Just life in general. Work’s been… Really hard to deal with lately.” He pauses, eyes honing in on your face, tracing across every tear-soaked feature. “Well, not until you said that shit about Jack.”

“I was-“ Your toes curl, breathing stuttering when he grinds the head of his cock against your gspot. “I was just trying to hu-hurt you back. You know I- I’d never.”

And he really does believe you now. Because if you’d still love him like this, after he’d brutally broken you apart piece by piece, you’d probably love him every which way. Which, may be your downfall, but he still felt lucky to be the reason you were willing to go that far.

“Y-Yeah, I know.” He curls his body over you completely, nuzzling into your neck as his hips start to stutter, only spurred on by the way your pussy had started twitching around him. Your walls squeezing him tight, the beginnings of your release coaxing out his. He parts his lips, and this time he is gentle, lapping at the wounds he created with a tenderness so starkly contrasting his previous actions that it nearly gives you whiplash. “I’d kill him i-if he touched you anyway.”

And the sentiment is cute, but…

“Isn’t he like, an immortal demon?” You manage to gasp out, rolling your hips back to meet his thrusts as you let your head fall to the side - giving him more surface area to lick and kiss upon.

“I’d find a way.” And then his free hand is slipping down lower, finding your clit to roll it in time with his thrusts. Taking you higher and higher, practically smothering you as his hips snapped against yours. Skin on skin echoing through the forest, the sticky sound of him separating from you making your cheeks burn hot.

You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in him shoulder and breathing in his scent, and then - you’re cumming. Even harder than the first time.

You all but convulse, eyes rolling back as the pleasure consumes you - nails digging into his back through the fabric of his sweater. And you sob into his shoulder, an absolutely wrecked sound that Toby was sure would be pinging around his skull for weeks to come.

And your pussy - it practically strangled his dick when you fell over the edge. So tight, and milking him so good, that he only manages to get three or four more thrusts in before he’s coming apart as well.

Nestled right up against your womb, he spills his spend. Pumping your cunt completely full of that warmth you had missed the feeling of so dearly. Toby, obviously just as pent up as you had been, absolutely flooded you with it - having it dripping out around his length before he even pulled out.

And then, he collapses. The only thing stopping him from being complete dead weight on top of you, being his elbows which he propped himself up on. Still inside you, he stayed that way for awhile, letting you feel his cock soften inside you as he took in dazed gasps of breath against your neck. You can feel his hair tickle your skin - practically soaked with sweat that was rolling off the strands to drip onto you.

As soon as his erratic panting turns to calmer, quivered breathing, you hear him mumble. “I’m s-sorry. You’re not a bitch.” He finds the strength to snake his arms beneath your body, pulling you in close and shielding your bare body from the cold ground. “O-Or a whore. Or any of those horrible names I called you. Sh-Should’ve never said that shit. It’s like I’m trying to get you to hate me.”

Should you forgive him so easily? Probably not, but well, you had already crossed that bridge.

So you do anyway, your body pliant as you sink into his hold. “A-And I know you do a lot for me. I’ve just been too wrapped up in m-my own shit to appreciate it.”

“It’s fine, Toby.” You murmur softly, as you let your eyes flutter shut. All the anger you felt before just feels like a distant memory now, completely fizzled out. Insignificant, with your body pressed to his. That was all you had been wanting, really. And though you may have taken the worst route possible to get here, you were here nonetheless.

“It’s n-not, though.” Toby grumbles, his arms curling around you tighter. And you can feel his heart beat against your chest, still frantic - just like yours was.

“Maybe it’s not.” You agree. “But I’m too tired to fight about it anymore.” You lift a hand, and use it to gently pry his face out of the crook of your neck, tilting his head up so that you could look at him properly. “Can we go home now? It’s cold out here.”

You watch, as Toby’s lips slowly curl up into a disbelieving little smile, before he’s nodding softly. Then, he turns his head to the side, to press a gentle kiss against the centre of your palm.

“Y-Yeah. Let’s go home.”

—————————————————————————☆

OKAY! yeah this was filthy but honestly very fun and refreshing to write considering that the last smut I posted was fluffy fluff with some fluff on top

I hope you enjoyed it lols

thank you for reading!!

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fireinmoonshot · 4 months ago

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second impressions | joaquín torres x fem!reader

READ PART ONE HERE Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: After making a terrible first impression on you, Joaquín goes back to the Avengers Training Facility in hopes of making a better second impression on you... but you have other ideas. Warnings: Mentions of fighting/combat and food Word Count: 2.1k A/N: I had a few people requesting that I write a second part to First Impressions so I have been working on this for the past couple of days. I am also going to be writing a third part to it as well which will hopefully be up in the next couple of days. Not much happens in this tbh but I still hope you guys enjoy it. I think it has some fun elements to it 💗

When Sam asks Joaquin if he wants to join him for some training at the Avengers Training Facility, there isn’t a second of hesitation before he says yes. He does truly want to learn the art of being the Falcon… the fact that you’re also going to be there is just a bonus.

He even puts on an extra spritz of cologne before he leaves his apartment. The fact that he’s wearing gym gear and therefore doesn’t need cologne doesn’t even cross his mind.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Sam asks him as they walk into the training room. “You seem a little distracted.”

Joaquin shakes his head and tries his best to pretend that he’s not looking for you. He is a little distracted, he can admit that. But it’s just because he’s here and you’re also here somewhere and he hasn’t stopped thinking about you since you body slammed him in this very room two weeks ago. “Nah, man. I’m ready. I’ve never been more ready.”

Sam gives him an amused look. “Yeah, sure…”

He drops his gym bag by the corner of the mat and starts to do some stretching. His body is tense from the drive and he needs to loosen up big time before he starts to train with Sam. He’s fully aware he’s probably going to be getting his ass kicked, but he has to start somewhere, right? He’s a pretty decent fighter when it really comes down to it, but he knows he can do with some improvement.

“So,” Joaquin begins, stretching one of his legs. “Do you think that if I can win in a sparring match with you today, you’ll let me face off with that Black Widow we saw here last time?” He purposely doesn’t use your name in an attempt to make Sam think he’s nonchalant about it all. Sam is well aware he’s the entire opposite.

Sam snorts. “Yeah, in your dreams. Even I wouldn’t fight her.”

Joaquin frowns and stands up straight, momentarily pausing his stretching. “What do you mean you wouldn’t fight her? You’ve fought Super Soldiers, you’ve fought aliens. You even fought a Red Hulk and won. I mean, come on – you totally could!”

Unbeknownst to Joaquin, you’ve slowly been walking up to them for this entire conversation, a small smile on your lips. As you reach them, you casually drape your arm around Joaquin’s shoulders, enjoying the way he tenses beneath your touch.

“Yeah, listen to the kid, Cap. I reckon you could totally take me on.”

Sam rolls his eyes and continues his own stretching. “I could, but I don’t need that kinda humiliation. By the sound of it, though, Joaquin sounds like he’s up for it.”

Joaquin’s eyes widen. “I did not say that.”

You look over at Joaquin, still smiling. “What, are you scared, Torres?”

His breath hitches as he looks at you. Your face is so close to his, closer than its ever been before, and your arm is still wrapped around his shoulders. He’s never been electrocuted before but he’s pretty certain it must feel something like this. “Me, scared?” He attempts to scoff but it comes out as more of a choking sound.

You remove your arm from around his shoulders and move to stand a little in front of him. “Aren’t you here to learn some fighting techniques? C’mon, Torres. I’m a good teacher.”

For the first time probably ever, Joaquin is a little lost for words. He’s looking at you, trying not to think too much about how attractive he finds you, and also trying to convince himself that maybe he should accept a match against you. It’d be a good way to learn… and to get his ass kicked. But if you are the one doing the ass kicking, he could definitely get behind it…

“I’m just teasing,” you say, breaking his train of thought. “I’m not fighting you today.” There’s not a single bone in your body that is willing to fight against someone with such little training compared to your usual partners. When he was better and could really hold his own against you? Sure, that was fair game. But you hadn’t been able to help yourself today when you’d walked into the gym and heard them talking about you. “Do you mind if I watch though?”

Sam shakes his head. “Nah, that’s fine. It’ll probably be good for him to have another set of eyes to see what he needs to improve on.”

“Okay, great,” you hum, starting to walk over to the edge of the mat. You pause by Joaquin and place a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You got this, Torres. Oh, and by the way, you smell good.”

Joaquin stares at you, a little bewildered, as you move to sit on the floor by the edge of the mat, leaning up against the concrete wall behind you and stretching your legs out in front of you. Did you actually just say that to him? How the hell was Joaquin meant to fight under these conditions? He’s all hot under the metaphorical collar now.

“Joaquin, you ready?” Sam asks, finishing off his stretching and stepping up onto the mat.

He clears his throat, looks at you one last time, and then nods. “Yeah, I’m ready.” Oh, he’s so screwed.

~~~

You stay, watching the two men as they spar on the mat in front of you. Sam is good, as you had expected him to be with so much experience under his belt. Joaquin, though, is better than you’d expected. He fights almost as effortlessly as you, although some of his movements are a little clunky in places and he could definitely learn a thing or two about predicting his opponents movements. All things considered, though, you’re impressed.

After the training wraps up for the day, you excuse yourself from the gym and head into the kitchen – a popular place among the Avengers while using the Training Facility. You’re making a sandwich when Joaquin walks into the room.

He has a towel resting over his shoulder and there’s still a sheen of sweat over his skin from the fighting. His hair, which had been neatly styled before, is now a little messy, some strands of it falling over his forehead and softening his face. It’s the first time you’ve seen him outside of the gym and even though you knew that he was good looking before, nothing can prepare you for the strange feeling that erupts in your stomach as he saunters into the room.

“I guess Avengers eat sandwiches too,” Joaquin says, breaking the silence as he sits on one of the stools on the opposite side of the counter from you. He notices that your eyes are a little unfocused as you look at him, but then you blink and you’re back to normal.

You chuckle. “You say that like we’re some kind of special breed, Torres. I’m a human, too, sweetheart. We humans eat sandwiches.”

Joaquin is pretty sure he feels his heart stop as you call him sweetheart. He’s not even thinking about the sandwich anymore. All he can think about is the fact that you never refer to him by his first name and the fact that you just gave him a nickname that he hasn’t been called since he worked in a supermarket as a teenager and the older ladies would fawn over how kind and lovely he was.

“Yeah, sandwiches are pretty great…” is all that he can manage to say, his head swimming with thoughts about how you’re so tough, so strong, but how the word sweetheart sounds like music coming from your mouth.

You look at him for a moment. “Are we really gonna stand here talking about sandwiches, Torres?”

He pauses and attempts to clear his thoughts. “What else would we talk about?”

“I don’t know, but I really don’t feel like trading sandwich secrets with you,” you admit as you grab a knife and cut the sandwich in half before putting it on a plate. You push it to the side, then, and lean down on the bench, looking across it at Joaquin. “I wanna talk about the fact that you wore cologne to a sparring session at the gym.”

Joaquin is glad he’s not eating or drinking. He’s certain he would’ve choked on it. You telling him that he smelled good had been on replay in his mind for the entire sparring match against Sam and had definitely been the reason Sam had gotten a few punches in. He hadn’t thought you’d notice it, letalone mention it, and he’s pretty sure it’s worn off by now considering he’d sweated so much during the fight. But here you are, cornering him about it.

“I wanted to make a better second impression on you than my first one,” he explains, a little sheepishly.

Truthfully, his terrible first impression on you had been weighing on his mind. He’d made a total fool out of himself, even though you’d assured him that he hadn’t. He had decided very quickly that he needed to do better next time.

You look at him for a second and then extend your hand towards him. “Give me your phone for a sec,” you say.

Joaquin furrows his eyebrows. “Why do you want my phone? He replies, mid-way through grabbing it and handing it to you across the counter. There’s nothing on there that he’d be worried about you seeing. Well… apart from a few selfies in his camera roll.

“Because,” you start, taking the phone from him. “I want to put my number in it. We’re on the same team now and if you ever have any questions about fighting techniques or anything similar, shoot me a text and I can help.” You open up his contacts, adding yourself to them. “And because you are not going to make a good impression on me simply by wearing cologne to a sparring session, Torres.”

He takes his phone back from you after you finish adding in your number and places it on the bench in front of him. “How am I going to do that, then?”

“We may be Avengers, Torres, but that doesn’t mean every interaction we have has to be within the walls of this training facility. I’d honestly prefer that they aren’t,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders. “We should meet sometime out in the real world, where we’re just you and me instead of a Black Widow and the Falcon. Get to know more about each other rather than just our fighting styles.”

Joaquin finds himself smiling. He hadn’t expected that from you. According to Sam, you’re one of the best fighters and a damn good Avenger. He’d thought you’d want to keep things that way – co-workers and nothing more. He’s never been an Avenger before so he assumed that would be how it was – his friendship with Sam being the exception. But apparently not.

“You’d actually wanna do that?” He asks, a little in disbelief.

“No, actually. I just said all of that but I didn’t mean a single word,” you reply, deadpan. “Yes, of course I would want to do that, Torres. I do actually have a life outside of being an Avenger, you know. I don’t only exist in this facility.”

A thought pops into Joaquin’s mind… you have a life outside of this place, which means there’s a very possible chance that you might have a partner. Someone you go home to every night, someone that listens to your troubles and fears when it comes to your job.

Almost like you can read his mind, you speak again.

“I’m basically asking you on a date, Joaquin.”

His head snaps up, eyes meeting yours. “You– wait, you and me? You want to go on a date with me? You’re– you’re asking me?”

“What is with you and not believing me when I say things to you?” You laugh a little, shaking your head. “I’m not talking anything serious, hence the word basically, but yes. You don’t need to give me an answer straight away. You should take some time to think on it. This is only the second time we’ve met, after all.”

You stand up straight and pick up the plate with the sandwich before walking around the counter and sliding the plate in front of Joaquin.

“Eat. You need to regain your strength after getting your ass kicked by Sam,” you hum. “And then text me yes or no once you’ve had some time to think, yeah?”

Before Joaquin can even recover from his shock enough to actually say yes to you, you’re gone. He spins around in his chair, eyes falling on the empty doorway. Then, he turns back around, picks up his phone and types out a message to you.

I don’t need time to think on it. I’m in. Yes.

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america brave new world #listening to the new sf9 album as i did my last edit on this #and i'm surprised i actually got any writing done #a bop

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satkru · 1 month ago

Note

Requesting headcanons (as NSFW as you want) for Kon being put inside Ichigo's body to sort of babysit caked up Male!R (he's 18, but not a soul reaper or fullbringer or anything. Only power is a massive booty & a pretty face ;P) while Ichigo & the others go on some mission.

And Ichigo is packing heavy ;)

*๑♡՞ . big booty m reader , cursing , if u really think abt it this could be considered cheating but idk , riding , doggy style , bigdickdaddy27 in the building , "u swan he frog" dynamic

p.s . am i going to be known as the writer who makes big booty m reader posts after this ,,, ALSO I NOTICED THIS SO LATE BUT I MADE THIS INTO A FIC INSTEAD OF A HC POST AGHHHH IM DYING OF EMBARRASSMENT

"my boyfriends coming over to hang out alright? dont make it so obvious that im not in my body or else i'll kick your ass when i come back" ichigo's words echoed loudly through kon's head. 'pfft, im a great impersonator, ichigo doesnt know what hes talking about'. kon grumbled, upset that kurosaki could ever doubt his abilities to copy other people's actions.

"ichigoo! y/n's here to see youu!" yuzu's voice sung, the door widened as she pushed the door more open for the boy beside her to enter the room. kon hummed, "thanks yuzu" he said as he turned his attention back to the phone in his hand. "hi baby" a voice as soft as silk called out, grabbing kon's attention once again. 'holy shit' kon couldnt believe the sight in front of him. a gorgeous and equally handsome man stood at the foot of his bed, his face could only be described as perfection and his body.. goddamn

'ichigo didnt warn me his boyfriend would be an incredible hottie!!' kon screeched in his mind, blown away by the perfection his eyes laid on, his face was flushed a deep red and his body felt hot and tingly. "h-hey y/n.." kon muttered, his eyes quickly shifting side to side. y/n chuckled as he saw his reaction, slowly walking his way toward him and plopping himself beside the man. his arms reaching around and pulling him into a tight side embrace, "soo? what have you been up to handsome?" y/n cooed, grabbing kon's chin to look at him.

kon's face deepened in his cherry color, "uh,, uhh,, nothing..?" he sputtered out, trying to find a response to the total babe beside him, "is that so?" y/n teasingly asked, his finger trailing down from kon's chin down his neck and to his chest. "yeah,, yeah thats about it" kon coughed out, turning his gaze back to his phone. y/n hummed, clearly wanting their conversation to last longer.

"so.. uh.. what have u been doing..?" kon nervously asked, averting his gaze from his friend's perfect boyfriend, y/n sighed dramatically before going on a rant about how his day was going and how his day yesterday went, which would bore the real ichigo out of his mind but kon stayed alert during y/n's rant, taking in every ounce of info his pretty lips were spilling out.

kon's attention didnt only go to y/n's words, but also to his delicate face, his soft but also sweet features made kon think about how precious his face would look smashed into the pillow— "ichigo? are you listening?" kon's mind stopped racing, turning his attention to the gorgeous man in front of him. "uhh, yeah, yeah i was listening" kon sheepishly scratched the nap of his neck, diverting his attention once again.

"your mind has been wandering hasnt it?" y/n chuckled as he watched kon stiffen, he had been caught and he knew it. "well.. maybe..?" kon nervously accepted the thought of y/n finally catching him in his thoughts, he was way more observant than kon could ever think to be.

y/n's gentle giggle rung in kon's head, "thats good, cause i brought a surprise for you tonight" kon's mind returned to its nervous mess, ichigo was sure to kill kon when he got back if he knew that he got a present that was meant for him. "i-is that so?" kon asked with a bit of fear in his voice, y/n just took off his shirt and began stripping his lower half to show ichigo a deep red and incredibly skimpy set of lingerie.

kon's mind basically shut down at that point, overcome by pure lustful intentions. fuck, how could he possibly turn down this opportunity? a beautiful man who you barely know casually shows off his lingerie set to you that caresses his curves ever so perfectly and shows off where it counts and you expect him to deny this?? absolutely absurd

"its your favorite" y/n gently said, focused on his tone and how it would affect the man in front of him. kon couldnt possibly escape from this situation, not with the rock hard on he had in his pants anyways. y/n reached down and placed his hand on top of ichigo's hard cock, trailing his hand up and down. kon quickly hopped off the bed and began to undo his pants, "lay down baby" he quickly muttered as he pushed his pants and boxers off.

y/n giggled as he swiftly placed himself head down and ass up, kon couldnt stand watching such a beautiful sight and jumped onto the bed, spitting on his hand and spreading his spit around his cock. he then placed his hands on y/n's hips and positioned himself to his entrance, and with one deep breath, kon plunged himself deep into y/n.

the feeling was incredible to say the least, tight and warm walls clasped his dick, kon could barely see straight, only being able to see visions of him railing y/n over and over until he finally got pregnant with his ichigo's kids. "youre so tight y/n" kon breathlessly said, his grip on y/n's hips tightening every twitch his cock produced.

"you say that every time ichigo" y/n said with a giggle, kon's brain was already melting but the pure and angelic voice of ichigo's boyfriend made the melting-process speed up even faster. curses were ringing through his head, every tiny movement from him felt like another surge of pleasure through his body. "cmonn ichigoo! im all ready for you" y/n sang, wiggling his ass teasingly.

y/n's words shot through kon's entire body, causing him to thrust himself more into y/n's hole out of instinct. moans erupted through both sides, the warmth of each other within their bodies filling them up with lust. kon could barely keep his movements straight, his thrusts were spaced out by seconds and his breathing was heavy and hot.

finally, kon collected himself enough to actually thrust inside y/n, his cock buried itself deep within his insides. y/n writhed and squirmed underneath kon, the feeling of being so filled up just by one meaty cock sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout his entire body.

it felt as if kon couldnt even control ichigo's body itself, as his hips thrusted deeper within y/n without him noticing. almost as if ichigo was controlling his own body even with his distance. the harsh thrusts were out of pure instinct on kurosaki's part, the need to be fully inside the man below him shattered any chance of any other thoughts sneaking their way inside kon's head.

kon could do nothing else but throw his head back in pure pleasure, letting out hungry and desperate moans as he felt himself losing more control of the body he had. at that point he could care less of ichigo came back with the intention to exterminate him and everything he had to live for, as he was far too gone to even remember about what he was supposed to be doing.

ichigo's thrusts became faster and more vulgar, the threat of release crawled up his body like rising water. "kuro..! oh god im gonna cum!" y/n cried out, his insides tightening around ichigo's already-leaking cock. "cum for me pretty boy, cum all over my cock" kon whispered inside y/n's ear, not only was ichigo's voice good for yelling at idiots, it was also good for encouraging sweet babes into cumming for him.

y/n's grip on kurosaki's sheets tightened, his knuckles almost turning white as he reached closer to his climax. kon saw this and started to speed up his thrusts even more, causing y/n to finally release his load onto ichigo's blanket. kon was not too far behind, the knot in his stomach loosened every thrust he gave to y/n.

with one swift thrust, kon finally came inside y/n, his warm and thick release trickled down the boy's insides and began to overflow, causing some to leak out of y/n's loose hole. the two stayed in their position for some time, catching their breaths in the humid room. "that was great baby, lets go wash—" "who said we were done?" y/n retorted, still breathless from the situation that just occurred.

kon's eyes widened and his face flushed once again, "im not too sure we should continue.." he sheepishly said, knowing if he continued to go on with this ichigo was surely going to kick his ass straight to the moon. "if youre worried that you cant perform anymore, just lay back and let me do what i do best" y/n said with a wink, he knew how to push ichigo's buttons but he also knew how to push kon's buttons without even realizing it.

"well.. i guess we can do this one more time" kon sensed his impending doom but at least he wouldnt go out a virgin, amiright? y/n's teasing smirk whisked its way onto his face, he slowly pulled himself off of ichigo's cock, making sure to pull out in a teasingly slow pace.

kon groaned softly as he saw the scene unfold in front of him, the pop that came after was absolutely to die for. "lay down baby" y/n softly commanded, but kon was listening like a diehard soldier who was ready to put his life on the line for a whole cake. y/n giggled as he then crawled on top of him, sweat slowly dripping down from their foreheads and bodies, the humid atmosphere helping with the excessive sweating.

y/n watched has kon shifted under him, a mix of uncomfortablness and maybe even a slight hint of fear was plastered onto ichigo's face, but his eyes held pure sexual intentions and an extreme amount of lust, that was enough for y/n to position himself above ichigo's cock, just so where his tip was at the entrance of his already leaking hole.

kon felt ichigo's cum drip down from y/n's hole onto the head of his cock. "fuck, please just ride me already y/n" kon pleaded, he was chasing a fleeting feeling of ecstasy and he so desperately wanted to have it in his grasp once again. y/m chuckled as he watched a desperate ichigo writhe under him, the almighty and pride driven man had now been reduced to a hole-drunk manslut.

"if you say so" y/n cooed as he began to lower himself onto ichigo's cock, the tip of it immediately caught onto y/n's rim, kon couldnt help but moan and throw an arm over his face, ashamed of himself for ruining ichigos image in his own sex-life. but the feeling of being balls deep in such a babe was something kon thought everyone should experience!

y/n felt as ichigo's cock continued to bury itself deep within him, traveling its way through his tight and narrow walls, finally reaching a deep enough point to where it could be seen in the naked eye in the stomach of y/n. the outline of such a large and girthy cock truly caught kon's eye through a sliver of sight underneath the forearm of ichigo.

y/n just chuckled as he then began to bounce himself on ichigo's fat cock, every bulging vein of his making itself known in y/n's insides. kon pressed his head deeper into the pillow, the pleasure in his lower abdomen was swallowing him up whole with nothing else to spare. "so tight.." kon chanted to himself, the repeated bouncing of y/n was truly hypnotic to him.

the modified soul gripped onto the sheets with dear life, his fingernails dug into the palm of his hand and kon couldnt help but bite down on his lower lip to try to silence the loud noises coming from the back of his throat. y/n looked down at him, eyes cloudy with so many emotions but the most prominent ones being pleased and joyous of the fact that he finally took down ichigo from his high throne.

every plap felt like it was taking a piece of kon's soul, surely after this ichigo would look like a shriveled up piece of fish. "are you liking this baby?" y/n asked teasingly, his face entirely filled with smugness, "loving it!" kon choked out before quickly sealing his lips again, careful not to let out anymore deafening groans and moans. y/n's breath was beginning to grow heavy, his cheeks were flushed a deep red and his mouth was swung open, letting out his own set of pleasure-striken moans.

"youre so hot y/n, god i need you every second of the day..!" kon spoke out, his future self could handle his punishment but present-kon couldnt keep his mouth shut anymore, words filled with pure lust and a tad touch of love spilled out of his mouth like a waterfall, and y/n was loving it. so much so that it brought him closer and closer to his release.

finally, y/n moaned out his last release of the night, cum spilled itself all over ichigo's abs and lower chest, kon was right behind him, with one helpful thrust, he felt his entire soul be sucked out through the help of y/n's hole. kon breathed heavily, his head still spinning from the initial surge of pleasure that ran through his body. y/n plopped himself beside him, resting his head on ichigo's shoulder as he slowly drifted off.

"you bastard" a cryptic and deep voice called, kon stiffened but slowly turned his gaze towards something that could only be described as an angry bull. "ichigo please, hes sleeping right no—" the REAL ichigo shook kon's shoulders as hard as he could.

"YOU SLEPT WITH MY BOYFRIEND?? I'LL RIP YOU TO SHREDS" he screamed, angry building up in every part of ichigo's body. kon quickly shifted his eyes to the dark haired female beside kurosaki, "rukia—" "cant help you" she dismissively said, a look of maliciousness covering her entire face.

kon was so incredibly doomed..

#male reader #bottom male reader #ichigo kurosaki x male reader #ichigo kurosaki x reader #bleach x male reader #bleach x reader #kon bleach #kon x reader #kon x male reader

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