#and WHY don’t i have swipe access for the one yet

[fappellmoan]

trying to find somewhere to sit and do work on this stupid fucking campus has me feeling like the joker

[shy-writer-999]

Summary: Zoro scoffs at the idea of him being submissive in bed. After all, it’s usually him who is railing you so hard you can’t walk. But when you suggest he try it out, he discovers that he likes it more than anticipated. ~2.5k words.

CW: Afab reader, gendered language (“princess” used once), previously established relationship w/Zoro, hand job, “good boy,” begging.

MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

“Stunning angel, won’t you come spend some time with me?” Sanji practically bowed, grabbing your hand to kiss it. “We could cuddle in bed. I’d make you tea and bring you sweet treats.” You couldn’t deny that he was cute, and the offer was tempting but…

“Sanji, you’re too sweet. No, thank you.” You had a different cuddle session scheduled with Zoro. You ended up in his bed most nights. Sanji knew that was the case but loved to tease and plead anyway.

“My love, I’m sure I can treat you better.”

You smiled at him cheekily and waved a hand. “No, Sanji.”

He did this every once in a while. It would be genuinely creepy if it came from anybody else, but you knew Sanji was a gentleman (albeit a pervert).

Later that night in bed, when you and Zoro were cuddling and relaxing, you recounted your interaction with Sanji.

Zoro got agitated, as you expected. “He said what? God, the shit cook is always trying to get on my nerves. Saying he could treat you better? What does he know about that? He’s probably a submissive little freak in bed, I bet he’s never made a woman orgasm in his life.”

You knew that Zoro and Sanji got each other pressed, annoyed as fuck, and sometimes too testy to be healthy. But the comment from Zoro was a bit weird... Implications about Sanji’s supposed submissiveness aside, the idea of Zoro being submissive flitted across your mind—you’d never seen even an ounce of that from him before. It was kind of hot of think about.

“Oh yeah, Zoro?” You queried, puzzled. “A ‘submissive little freak’? Don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

He paused for a second, processing your words, and then in an uncharacteristic moment, he turned crimson. He’s not usually one for blushing. “What?”

Resting on Zoro’s broad chest, you lifted your head and brought your lips to his ear. “I said, don’t knock it ‘till you try it. Don’t you want to try it just once?”

Your sultry, suggestive tone sent goosebumps down his spine. He hummed and cracked a wry smile. “Mmmmm. Sure. If that means I get to have my way with you after.”

He was trying to cover up the fact that the idea of you being in control genuinely made him flustered and nervous. It was just different, an idea he’d never imagined before.

Usually, Zoro was the one pushing your head into the covers, calling you nasty names, pulling your hair, spanking your ass, even choking you sometimes, if both of you were in the mood. He loved to fuck you like you’re his little plaything, like you were made for him. As for him being the submissive one, he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Why not give it a shot?

You kissed one of his flushed cheeks and slid your palm down his pecs and abdomen, down those defined V-marks and his wiry happy trail. Your hand came to rest on his cock through his short, slutty black boxer briefs. He wasn’t fully hard yet, so he was going to need some warming up. That wouldn’t be difficult.

You palmed his cock a bit more and kissed his neck, trailing your lips upwards, swiping them across his jawline and bringing him into already-needy kisses. As you paid his lips and his cock attention, you could feel his cock twitch, growing hard and straining against your fingers.

You grinded your palm over his hard cock and his breath hitched. He was really feeling out of his element now, maybe vulnerable was the right word. His muscles were flexed and tense, like he was holding his breath for something.

You pulled down on the snug elastic of his underwear to grant access to his aching, girthy cock. Lightly wrapping your fingers around his shaft, you could feel his length twitch in your hand.

Zoro wasn’t convinced that he was going to fall apart and beg for more. Usually he just told you to give him more. But you were determined to get him there. Part of the fun was that you knew that he had it in him, but it just needed to be conjured or drawn out.

You started to stroke him slowly and reach your free hand to cradle and massage his balls gently.

Zoro would never turn down a hand job. But he didn’t see what was so submissive about the present moment. Didn’t you ask him if he wanted to try it out? Being submissive? There was nothing new about what was going on.

But he shrugged off his hesitance and melted into your touch. Any time that any part of you touched him, he liked it. As your fist moved lazily up and down his shaft, precum beaded on his tip and his cock throbbed in your hand any time you squeezed his balls. You made sure he was sufficiently worked up before you turned your game on.

Had you edged Zoro before? Not really. It was usually Zoro who did that to you. This would prove to be a great way to start.

You took your hands away from Zoro’s cock and he let out a huff. “Oh, so it’s gonna be like that?” He sounded annoyed. You knew him well enough to tell that this wasn’t annoyance, but veiled desperation.

“Mmmhmmm it’s gonna be like that, and you’re going to have to wait until I say otherwise.”

You gave up touching him and started to kiss him again. His lips were greedy—he wanted more. He cupped one of your cheeks with a large hand and you swatted it off, smiling through the kisses at his innocence and sweet gesture. But right now, you were going to dominate him. Or at least you were going to let him know who was in control.

For the time being, your mindset was that you wanted to do anything you could to get him hot and bothered, except touch his cock. You wanted him to beg for it, basically. In preparation, you peeled off your shirt and bra, sucked on his neck and sighed into his ears.

Grasping one of his wrists, you moved Zoro’s hand to your breast, and he kneaded it, playing with your nipples as you continued to touch his toned abs, pecs, neck, shoulders, anything you could get your hands on. Sure enough, he was getting worked up. He wasn’t used to being played with like this.

“C’monnnn, stop teasing me already. I’m dying over here.” He huffed, annoyed.

“You’re dying? How bad do you want it, Zoro?” Your lips curled into a smile.

“Just touch me already.” His cock was jumping and throbbing now, desperate for your touch. You rubbed his nipples softly, brushing your thumbs over them in small circles, and he squirmed a bit. He was sensitive.

“I am touching you, Zoro.” Pedantically, you spurred him on. If he wanted more then he’d need to try a bit harder than that.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” You could practically hear his eyes rolling through his flat tone.

“Zoro, if you want it so bad, then say please.”

A moment of silent passed, and his cheeks were once again bright red. What about this was flustering him so much?

“Ugh. Fine. Please. Please touch me.” He huffed again, ostensibly annoyed, but you knew that he craved you underneath that guise of being unbothered.

“Alright, just because you asked so nicely.” You kissed his cheek again and your fingers went back to being wrapped around his cock, slowly pulling the precum down his shaft and lubricating it in warm wetness. He let out a quiet moan, a rumble in his chest that was barely audible.

That noise was the prompt you needed—it was time to start praising him. “There you go, baby. Does that feel good?”

He gave another quiet mumble as a response and closed his eyes, throwing his head back in bliss. You gave a nice squeeze to his balls and he gasped, hips bucking up in pleasure.

“Mmmm, Zoro. You’re doing such a good job for me. Just sit there and I’ll make you feel good.”

His hands trailed over to your breasts again, kneading on them. He lifted his neck up to latch around one of your nipples, swirling over your pert bud with his tongue and sucking softly. His hips rocked up slightly into your hand.

“There’s a good boy.”

The filthy words took a second to register in his mind. He froze, mid-suck. What the fuck was that?

But as he paused, you squeezed his shaft tighter and his hips bucked up again of their own accord. He let out a muffled moan on your breast and continued sucking, kneading, worshipping. His cock felt like it was on fire—it throbbed, you clenched his balls tightly, and that dirty talk… he’d never heard anything like it before. It was weird to him. It felt wrong. Good boy??? What?

You said it again, and again, it got him off. “Being such a good boy for me, Zoro.”

Maybe it was the tone of your voice. Maybe it was the coddling, praising adoration, the idea that he was doing something for you, being good for you. In any case, was shocked at how good it felt when you called him that. His cheeks were hot with blush and his hips rolled upwards, trying to fuck your fist harder.

Zoro’s suction increased as he let out another moan into your flesh. It vibrated your sensitive bud, sending a tingle of pleasure outwards from his warm lips.

“You’re being so sweet and good for me, baby. Keep going, just like that.” At the same time, you rubbed your thumb in slow circles over his tip, smudging the precum that was seeping out. You scooped some of it up with your thumb and brought it up to your mouth, sucking your thumb clean. He watched with hungry, reverent eyes.

When you increased the pace of your fingers around his length, he started to seize up. You knew him well enough to tell that he was close.

Right when Zoro was about to cum, right when he started to whimper and pant, you took your hand off his cock.

“Fuccckkk, babe. Please.” He pulled his lips away from your nipple and furrowed his brow in anguish. He looked handsome no matter what, but seeing him like this, in such a different role than he usually took on, really got you going.

“Oh, did you want to cum, Zoro?” You were being deliberately patronizing, frowning like you pitied him, asking like you didn’t already know the answer.

He huffed in annoyance, lapsing back into his usual cocky attitude. “Obviously.”

“Then you have to ask nicely.” Your reached to softly turn his head to yours, holding him by the chin.

“I already did.” Sass trickled back into his tone, like he forgot the dynamic at the moment, like his cock wasn’t throbbing. He pouted a bit, and it made your heart skip a beat. He was so gorgeous it was maddening.

You tutted at him. “Well, if you won’t ask nicely again then I guess I won’t touch you.”

Zoro groaned. Were you really making him beg for it? He was at his limit. He felt like he was going crazy with need, and his cock was so hard he couldn’t think straight. “Please. Fuck, please let me cum.”

“Good job. And what do you want me to call you? When my hand is wrapped around your cock?” Your honeyed tone alone made his stomach turn.

He was dumbfounded. Did he really want that? Should he say it? He was falling apart.

“Zoro. Say it and I’ll let you cum. What do you want me to call you?”

You moved your hand so it was poised over his cock, just an inch or two away. If you just shifted forward the slightest bit, you would touch it. He choked out the answer to your question, and it almost sounded like a sob. He was so desperate for your touch that the precum leaking out of his slit wouldn’t stop, it was running down his shaft in slow, milky droplets.

“C-call me a good boy,” Zoro whined, fully giving into the fantasy and pleasure of being called something that felt so different. “Please.”

You hummed in satisfaction and started to stroke his cock again. At the same time, you leaned over slightly, licking up his neck slowly and nipping at his earlobe. He started to convulse, hips jerking up into your hand quicker.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m close,” Zoro grunted with each thrust of his hips. “’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, Zoro. Cum all over your stomach. Be a good boy and cum for me.”

You squeezed his balls harshly and he let out a strangled-sounding, guttural cry. He whined loudly and almost pathetically, completely lost in the haze of pleasure you drew from his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, yes I—fuck—I wanna be good for you.” Zoro was making a mess out of your hands, arching his back and pressing his pelvis up into your hand. His eyes were screwed shut and his brows were bent at the middle.

He was strikingly attractive. His muscles were completely flexed, his jawline was sharp, and his hair was ruffled. The pretty sounds carelessly tumbling from his lips were making you wet—there was just something so objectively erotic and attractive about seeing this man who was usually so hypermasculine and dominant be reduced to incoherent whimpers and puppy-dog eyes.

“Just like that, baby. Tell me what you want to be. Come on, sweetheart.” You prompted Zoro one last time, hoping that having to recite the filthy words back to you would send him over the edge into orgasm. It worked.

Zoro grabbed fistfuls of the sheets and his thighs started to shudder. As he came, he forced the words out of his mouth, writhing under your fingertips and groaning the whole time. “Wanna be—fuck—wanna be your g-good boy, ah—fuhhhccckkk.”

Hot, sticky ropes of cum spurted over his abdomen while you stroked him slowly through the waves of his orgasm. As he came down from his high, you petted his head a bit and kissed all over his face.

When Zoro seemed to rouse from his stupor of pleasure, his cheeks were dusted with traces of pink blush, and he was a bit sheepish. You toweled the cum off his abs and nuzzled back on his chest.

He admitted pretty quickly that he loved it. “Fuck, that was good.”

yall this one had me squeezing my thighs together 🥴🥴🥴 i just want him to know how good he is PHEW!!

here's my masterlist and my october posting schedule!

i'm posting every day until halloween!

finally, trick or treat? (tumblr links)

[lavylu]

Hunger 🩸

Warning: has period sex and what not so if that is triggering with the blood don’t read

Also kind of graphic so…

You roll over in bed, a feeling of pain in your stomach. You groan as your stomach cramps from your period.

You struggle to get out of bed, but once you do you head to the shower. You grab your period products and a change of clothes.

————————

Once you are done with your shower you head downstairs to get breakfast. You groan as another cramp hits and grab the Advil from the cabinet.

You hear a soft knock on the door and get a confused look. You go to the door and see Jasper. He gives you a smirk and looks you up and down.

Even though your hair is all wet and you’re in casual clothing he looks at you like you are the sexiest thing in the world.

He comes in and closes the door. “Hey baby”

His voice is a southern drawl. You blush a little when you hear his voice. His drawl always made you feel warm.

He goes to grab your waist and pulls you into a hug. He squeezed your soft hips and presses a kiss to your neck.

He sucks on the skin, his cool lips making you shiver. He chuckles as he kisses you again.

“Baby you smell so good.”

Your blush deepens and then you get a closer look at his eyes. They’re a dark brown almost black. You frown as you take in his hunger.

“Jasper… your eyes. When did you feed last?”

“Um… Well” he looks sheepish. “I was supposed to go with Emmett today, but I wanted to see you.”

You pull away from him slightly. “Baby, you need to feed.”

Jasper just smirks. “That’s why I’m here.”

You look confused and don’t seem to get what he’s saying.

Jasper just rolls his eyes playfully. “I’m hungry and you have your period”

Your eyes widen in surprise, yet a slight warm feeling blooms in your stomach. Jasper chuckles as he feels the arousal.

“I can tell by your emotions that it excites you. Now lay down and spread those legs”

He gently lays you down on the couch and begins to pull your pants off. Your cheeks flush when he reveals the period panties you wear.

They are thick and a rather ugly color. Your cheeks are warm as you see him trace a finger over your crotch, his finger caressing the pad you wear.

He loops one of his fingers into your underwear and swipes it along your folds. He pulls his finger out to reveal its covered in a layer of blood. He smirks and sucks on his finger.

“Damn baby, you’re going to keep me well fed”

He gets down on his knees and pulls off your panties. He spreads your legs and presses a kiss to your stomach. He kisses down from your naval till he reaches your folds.

His firm tongue licks up your slit, the blood gathering on his tongue. You hear him swallow before diving in.

He eats you out like he’s a starving man, and in a way he is.

His tongue thrusts in and out of your eager hole, pleasuring you immensely. His hands pull your legs apart giving him better access.

Your hands find their way to his hair and pull him closer to you. He chuckles against your pussy as he devours your liquid.

One of his hands leaves your thigh and begins to circle your clit. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the new pleasure.

He pinches your clit lightly and circles it. You pull his hair harder. He laps at your folds, a pleasure building up inside of you.

Your legs begin to shake as he quickens his circling and his thrusts. Your eyes roll back as you feel your orgasm take over.

You scream out as you cum, your hands gripping his hair tightly. Jaspers tongue laps up your cum along with more of your blood.

He pulls away from you to reveal his lips that are covered in blood. He licks his lips and smirks. You see his eyes go from the dark black to an amber color.

He takes your hand and kisses it. “Thanks baby. I might have to feed from you more often”

[highonakuweeds]

Who Says Money Can't Buy Happiness?

Sylus/right hand man!reader Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | ao3

SUMMARY:

You'd been down on your luck for the past few years, scavenging for food no matter how disgusting it was. Anything to keep you alive, right?

That is until you bump into the leader of Onichynus, whose interest piqued due to the odd glow under the skin of your inner wrist, allowing you access to information within a single glance. In exchange for you to be his right hand man, his informant, you'll live under his roof.

ao3

“So, what do you say?” That low honey of a voice echoed in your mind as your jaw clenched, eyes darting around to assess the situation. Your health was as low as your wealth at that moment; you could not spare another day on the streets, else you might fall. Literally.

You glanced at the inside of your wrist, where a small spot in it, right above your pulse, glowed a soft red. Hesitantly, you looked back up at the leader of Onichynus, whose smirk never left him. “I just have to be your… your what— secretary, basically?”

He shrugged, and you envied the nonchalance present in every action he did. “If that’s what you want to call it, then by all means, kitten, yes. My secretary.”

You cringed at the nickname before deeply sighing, shoulders dropping as you lazily brought your right hand up, and the leader of Onichynus eyed your glowing wrist. “Alright then,” you finally said, smiling awkwardly as he grinned, shaking your hand firmly. “But don’t call me kitten.”

Sylus just laughed. “Okay, sweetie.”

“(Name) is just fine.”

“What about (Nickname)?”

You pondered over it, hand still gripping his. It didn’t sound that bad, and no one’s really called you that before. You nodded, shaking his hand once more. “Deal.”

----

If you think that the leader of Onichynus is a mystery, his right hand man is tenfold.

Always in the shadows yet never leaving their master’s side; that’s what others had usually taken note of. To conceal their identity, they wear a dark hood that covers half their face, only revealing a small upturn of their lips if you were truthful or worthy of their master’s attention or a slight frown if they realized you just tried to fool the leader of Onichynus. 

In fact, there would be times wherein he would visibly show care about the verdict of his right hand man. Just a simple shake of their head would send you begging and sobbing for mercy. Some had never even seen the light of day ever again.

Who this person actually was, no one knew. There were no discernable features about them except for one thing: a soft glow that despite the many layers of bandages tried to hide never actually shrouded its light on their right wrist. It would flicker and dim, yet in some cases pulse and glimmer. Was it a protocore imbued in their body? Or was it something else?

Many who lived to tell the tale of meeting the leader knew of his two henchmen, kept always close by their side, but not them. Never their right hand man.

You physically cringed and recoiled at the use of the word ‘master’ before removing your gaze at what Tara was reading from her phone. “That sounds so—”

“Cool? Intriguing?” Tara butted in, eyes gleaming at the sudden introduction to a new figure in the N109 Zone. You deadpanned, leaning down to swipe away from the app she was reading it from. She pouted at you before setting her phone down as you spoke. “No,” you countered. “Edgy.”

Tara’s shoulders slumped at your words. “It is not! This may be new information! Not many people talk about the N109 Zone, you know.” As you rolled your eyes at that statement, ready to refute her, she interrupted you before you even opened your mouth. “And besides, people are going crazy over this. See?”

She opened her phone once more to show you the comments of the post she read the excerpt from. Your lips curled in disgust as you read each one. 

“dont u think thats lowkey really hot” “wait whys that kinda…” “the hood stays on.” “how come we’ve never seen them before?” 

You snorted at the last one. At least they had common sense. “I don’t get the hype. It’s either a myth, or someone just trying to do their job.” You clasped your hands, startling Tara. “Which is what we should be doing right now! Isn’t that right, Tara? Don’t you have a bit of paperwork that you’ve been holding off on?”

She grunted, clearly stunned. “Wait, how’d you know that—”

“I’m off to do mine then! Toodle-loo!” You exclaimed, already halfway to your desk. When your face was finally out of your friend’s vision, you grimaced, a whine coming out of you. Who had the audacity to put that up on social media? You’ll have to ask Sylus to take it down later.

—--

“Okay so,” you started, tapping the inside of your right wrist, a 3D diagram of a tall building appearing. “The auction, as you know, starts in 3 hours. Many of the underground’s elite are joining, and so are some people who got introduced to events like this via the Nest. There will be new faces so I am begging you, please keep your sassiness to yourself for just one day. I know it’ll be hard, but I promise you it’ll be harder if you just have extra nuisances. Oh, and by the way—”

“(Nickname),” his voice snapped you out of your rambling. “I think I’ll be fine.”

You whipped your head at him before scoffing, shrugging as you tapped your wrist again, removing the diagram. “Suit yourself.” As you sat down on the edge of Sylus’ bed (with that, you earned a slight raise of a brow from him, whose back was leaned on the bed’s headrest), you clicked your tongue. “And just so you know, there is a theme to this, so I’d rather you go with cool colors instead of your normal red—”

“Thank you, my right hand man, but I’m afraid I’m sticking with red,” your boss plainly interrupted, irking you. What irritated you even more was the use of your title. You hated being called Sylus’ “right hand man” despite it being true. 

You pursed your lips, nodding stiffly. “Right, about that whole ‘right hand man’ thing, there’s this post that’s been blowing up on social media about me, and it’s making me sound way worse than I am. Could you have it taken down?”

Sylus smirked, tilting his head ever so slightly before picking his phone up from the nightstand. After a quick while, he lazily showed you the exact post. “Is it this one?”

A sigh of relief escaped you as you nodded, lips curled up. That is until you realized he was the one that posted it in the first place. Your shoulders slumped as you quickly attacked him, trying to grab the phone from him as he reached it up. 

You heard a small grunt coming out of him when his back harshly hit the headboard, but you couldn’t care less. “Take it down!” You exclaimed, kneeling on his thighs to reach higher. Sylus swiftly brought it down, however, grinning when he saw the annoyance drawn all over your face. “And why should I? It gives you good face.”

“But it paints the wrong picture of me!” You whined, stooping down to grab his wrist. A shine of victory sparkled on your face when you did, but he only raised his brows, merely allowing you to do so. He’s going easy on you. “There are people thirsting over me!” 

At that, Sylus barked out laughter, ripping his wrist away from your grip. “There are? I haven’t checked the comments yet.” 

Suddenly, a wash of horror swept through you, and your efforts to catch the phone doubled. “Wait no, don’t—”

“‘Is this what the dark romance girlies were looking for?’” He read out, the shit-eating grin never leaving his face. He switched his phone to the other hand as you tried to grab it, but to no avail. “‘Why have the leader when you can have the right hand man?’ Okay, ouch.” Sylus sarcastically remarked, and you winced at the comments. “Enough, Sylus!”

“You should be flattered, (Nickname),” he said, causing you to stop in your antics. “It’s annoying. Now, take it down—”

You yelped the moment you felt his free hand on your chest, flipping your positions with ease. Jaw clenched, you glared at him, trying to pry off his hand. “How about this?” Sylus negotiated. “I’ll take the post down,” with that, you exhaled, a weight suddenly lifted from your shoulders. “If you go to the auction with me tonight.”

…what.

You scoffed as you stared at him, brows scrunching up. “I’ve never been to an auction with you before.”

“You have—”

“Not in person! I was always just a little crow pin on your coat.” You argued, sitting up on Sylus’ bed as he got off on top of you, rolling his eyes at your words. “What’s the difference?”

You blinked at him, scoffing incredulously. “‘What’s the difference?’ What’s the difference? The difference is that I actually have to talk to the damn people! And they’re gonna go all crazy because, ‘ooh, the leader of Onichynus has a new woman on his arm’!” 

He chuckled at your imagination and anxieties, standing up to go fix himself. “Alright then, the post stays up—”

“Wait!” You stopped, a hand out. Sylus looked at you expectantly, as if he already knew what your answer would be. You felt your eye twitch at his expression, and he just “innocently” smiled at it, though there was barely anything innocent about him. You sighed, posture slouching in defeat. “Fine. I’ll go with you,” you mumbled.

A smile of victory that was supposed to be on your face appeared on your boss’. “Perfect. The dress is already in your closet.”

Your face slowly contorted as you processed his words. ‘The dress’? Just as he was about to enter his bathroom to freshen up, you straightened your back on his bed. “What dress? Were you anticipating this?”

No response came from him except for low laughter, mocking you as you grumbled your way out of his room. 

Your boss is going to be the death of you, you swear.

—--

As you walked the long hallway and took a sharp turn to your right to go to your room, you took a deep breath. This is going to be your first time actually showing yourself in public without any disguise, without any cover, ever since you decided to work under Sylus a couple years ago. Sure you knew a bit of social etiquette in terms of formal settings and such, but those were all from books; you never inclined yourself to actually join Sylus in any of them. From what you’ve heard from him, they were usually boring, where the filthy rich conversed whilst participating in illegal activities. And though the filthy rich part caught your attention, the “boring” did not. Nor did the illegal activities. You didn’t give a rat’s ass about what Sylus or people like him did behind the law’s back, but you were still technically a hunter. If word spreads that someone from Linkon City’s handful of heroes is engaging in sketchy weapon trading, then you would be utterly screwed.

You opened the door to your room with a sigh, though whether it was one of relaxation at the sight of your luxurious suite-like room, or one of frustration at how Sylus practically forced you to join him, you weren’t quite sure. Nevertheless, you bee-lined straight towards your walk-in closet, an addition Sylus willingly placed in your contract a week or so after when he realized just how material-oriented you were. 

Ah, right, Sylus loved spoiling you.

You could prove that fact by glancing at your wardrobe. It was certainly way bigger than the room you lived in (stolen) before working as Sylus’ right hand man. Lit up with warm pin lights outlining the perimeter on the top and on the bottom, clothes and jewelry alike made the room look like Heaven. And you would constantly ask yourself if this was Heaven, indeed. To your left were the fancier types of clothing, perfectly tailored to fit your measurements, and to the right were the clothes you would wear for day-to-day (designer, of course. Wouldn’t want Sylus’ money to go to waste). In the middle was a glass island with jewelry that cost more than a fortune, and probably more than your life. It gleamed horribly bright due to the mix of metals and gems. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, you could probably name it all. Though you preferred some over others, a little bit of everything didn’t hurt anyone, right? Certainly not Sylus’ wallet.

You would’ve felt bad for buying more than half of what you have in your closet using Sylus’ money, but his closet cost more than yours ever could. And every time you’d borrow his sweet little black card to go shopping, he never said a word, just a single turn of his lips of approval as you skipped your way towards the most expensive shops you knew. And a good chunk of your belongings were gifts from him, too —”as a token of gratitude”, he’d always say (you never believed him)— so you knew that he didn’t care.

Whether you liked the idea of it or not, you had agreed to become his right hand woman —his secretary, even— so you couldn’t really complain when people called you that (despite not knowing who you really are). Plus, the job came with benefits, so might as well suck it up. 

One thing caught your eye, though, and that was a box on top of a cushioned chair in the corner of the closet. It was beige with a silver ribbon tied on the top, a deep contrast to the darker palette of your room. Stealthily, you walked towards it, brow raised, before your entire body relaxed when you noticed the familiar handwriting on a simple yet sophisticated card on top of it. Only thing written on it was, “wear this.”

You pursed your lips as you rolled your eyes, opening the box without any hesitation. And to say you were impressed at Sylus’ ability to constantly not follow rules he didn’t want to follow would be an understatement.

You scoffed as you brought the beautiful dress out of its cage. This edgelord decided to gift you with a wondrous deep red silk dress, its sweetheart neckline low enough to entice but not low enough to seduce. It accommodated for its lack of fabric in the higher chest area with puffy sleeves that you assumed were off the shoulder, catching the warm light in smooth lines. You brought it out fully, placing it against yourself and relishing at how it looked in the full-length mirror. Bottom-wise, it covered just about everything except for a rather daring slit that ended somewhere around your high thigh. Who did he think you were, a stripper? 

…Well if the money called for it—

You shook your head, carefully draping the dress on the matching chair on the other corner to freshen yourself up. You couldn’t wait to try it on. 

—--

You let out an exhale when the last curl fell from the iron, the heat kissing your bare skin. You hissed at it but solved the problem by brushing it away from your neck. Your eyes trailed towards the faint glow on your right wrist, then the golden jewelry on your vanity table, then at yourself. Hesitance was written all over your features, eyes not leaving yours in the mirror as you place a rather glimmery bracelet on to cover your wrist. You always thought the shinier something is, the more the glow would dim. Would camouflage. 

What snapped you out of your thoughts were a familiar pair of hands gently grabbing the dainty necklace right in front of you, and clasping it around your neck. Your gaze left your own to lock with his, though his eyes were focused more on your hair (or neck?) than on you. 

It wasn’t long after that that he looked back at you with an amused turn of lips. “Are you ready?” His voice reverberated in your head, as it had been a good hour or two without the presence of one, the only thing your ears had been hearing up until his entrance being simple jazz instrumentals from your bedroom.

You glanced at your feet, which were currently bare, before shaking your head. “Give me a minute—”

But before you could even do anything, Sylus knelt down, picking up one red-bottomed stiletto from the pair and slipping it on your foot with ease. To a normal person, that would’ve certainly given them a scary amount of butterflies, having a man on his knees, practically serving you by being the one to put on your shoes for you. However, your boss had done this multiple times in the past. So many times that you’d grown accustomed to it. 

“These heels aren’t that bad, (Nickname), why don’t you use them more often?” He commented, placing the other one on your other foot. You snorted, an opposition to your current elegant figure. “I barely go out. What, you want me to wear these when I’m hunting wanderers or just in the house?”

Sylus shrugged, standing up. He placed a hand on his hip as you stood up as well. Despite you wearing a good couple inches worth of heels, he towered over you somehow. “Why not?”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Let’s just go.” 

—--

The moment Sylus stepped into the room, everyone’s eyes were on him. Or rather the pretty little thing linked on his arm.

Sylus’ expression remained that of indifference as he practically pranced around, and most people would assume he was showing you off. You’ve known him for long enough, though; you knew he wasn’t trying to. In fact, you assumed it was probably your stance.

Chin held up high, eyes sharply scanning the area through lazily held up eyelids, chest puffed out, shoulders pulled back, and stride confidently pompous. You were a new figure. Sure, your attitude was something the people inside of the building had seen one too many times; your position, however, was not. 

Who was this new woman beside Sylus, the leader of Onichynus? And why has she just popped up now, out of the blue? 

After a couple beats of silence, whispers erupted all around the two now most important figures of the event. And with that, a small smile ghosted on your lips. One that Sylus noticed.

“Enjoying the attention, I see,” he whispered, quiet enough for only you to hear. “Have I not been giving you enough?”

“Careful there,” you responded through a forced smile, eye twitching. “People might hear you acting like something comparable to a partner. Then I’d have a whole nother problem to deal with”

Sylus just laughed at your statement, unlinking your arms. You glanced at him, confusion clear in your expression. He leaned down, almost as if he was bowing, and you thought that that was exactly what he was about to do… until you noticed a very familiar card slotted between his pointer and middle finger.

Your eyes visibly gleamed at the sight as you gasped. “Really?”

He just shrugged, lips almost forming a pout as he straightened his posture. “Of course, if you don’t want it—”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you, Sylus?” You excitedly said, snatching the black card with the same amount of enthusiasm. He watched you memorize the numbers engraved on it (though he knew you had it burned in your retinas) with a chuckle. “Now, who sounds like a partner between the two of us?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled before changing your entire demeanor. Frankly, it was times like this that slightly intimidated Sylus, how money and wealth could easily change your mood. “I mean, thank you so much! I’ll see you in 30?”

He just nodded, amusement clear on his features. “You’ll see me in 30.”

And with that, you grinned, practically jumping in delight before bee-lining towards a protocore which glowed a beautiful pink, near nude, color. You were drawn to it from the very beginning, but didn’t want Sylus to see just how much you wanted it.

You glanced at the glow of your wrist, which was covered up by black lace gloves to avoid suspicion. It flickered softly underneath its cage, so quickly that the pulses between each flicker of light seemingly disappeared. You braced yourself, crossing your arms tightly to ground you to reality. Whenever you’d find a protocore this powerful, its memories, the things it sees, reels you in so hard, you would faint. Sylus had never seen that part of you before, though your first encounter with him was close. 

Well, it happened multiple times after that, too; you weren’t quite sure why. But after a while, it was habitual for you to feel a bit nauseous around Sylus until you would no longer feel it at all. 

This protocore’s pull was faint compared to that, but it made you falter in your footing nevertheless. You shook your head, taking a deep breath before calling one of the servers nearby. “15 million for this.”

His brows furrowed deeply. “But ma’am, this is only worth 100,000—”

“Then your pricing is foolish and incompetent. When I say something is worth 15 million, then I will buy it for 15 million. Do not doubt my decisions.”

The server froze in his place, and you could’ve sworn you saw the hair on his skin stand upright at your cold words. It almost put a smile on your otherwise apathetic face.

He bowed immediately, quickly following your orders. “Yes, ma’am.”

You nodded your head mindlessly, already striding to another pull. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder, cold and… nonhuman. A wanderer maybe? No, this felt different. You felt your body stop in its place, your chest heaving as you tried to gasp for breath. Wait, calm down. You could check what this was with your wrist. But wait, how come nothing was popping up? You— You needed to kill the thing behind you; you needed to—

“Are you okay, miss?” A smooth voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you whipped your head at it. You glanced at the man’s hand, which was clearly pulled back. Almost genuine concern covered his entire face, his eyes shining with care. 

You were quiet for a couple seconds before responding. “I-I’m alright, thank you.”

The man gestured one hand out, palm facing up, as if waiting for you. Reluctantly, you gave your left hand, and he slowly brought it up to his lips and kissed your knuckles. With your hand still quite close to his face, he stared at the intricate lace design of your gloves, and you felt your stomach flip. “I apologize; I did not mean to startle you. My name is Aries. I’m new here.” He admitted, his voice low enough to send your heart racing. 

You’ve never felt like this before. And it wasn’t romance you were feeling; it was something much more… forced. You held your guard up high, allowing him to treat you like this for longer. He might be a danger. 

So instead, you smiled, eyes locking with his as he stood up properly. “(Name). A pleasure to meet you, Aries. So, what brings you to a place like this?”

Aries sheepishly laughed, clearly nervous about the entire situation. You knew he fancied you, especially with the way his face was beet red. “Ah, my— my uncle encouraged me to go with him, even if I didn’t want to.”

You gasped, eyes lighting up when you finally realized that there was someone just like you here. “Me too!”

He tilted his head, brows scrunching together. “...Your… uncle dragged you here?”

A small stifle of laughter bubbled in your throat before you grinned, shaking your head. “Not my uncle. Just… a friend.”

Sylus’ eyes never left you as you strutted around the auction, most especially when he noticed you conversing with a man he had never seen before. He opened his mouth to ask you a question about him, a bit of basic information perhaps, but he immediately caught his mistake. Right. He was so used to having you by his side that he’d completely forgotten.

“I see you’re eyeing my nephew, Aries.” A man, at least a decade or two older than Sylus, approached him, his voice irritating the leader of Onichynus on the spot. He barely glanced at the shorter male, trying to figure out his name. He usually had you whisper it to him. Ugh, what was his name again? It was French for something… Chaton? Chateau? No, he just called this guy ‘castle’. It was a C- something… 

Ah, Ciel.

“Ciel,” Sylus said, boredness crystal clear in his voice. The older man laughed —a forced “rich” one, at that— before responding. “Ah, and here I thought you forgot my name. Yes, I—”

“What do you want?” Ciel flinched at the bluntness of Sylus’ tone, but answered him nevertheless. “So, what’s the deal? Who’s that pretty little minx you brought today? I’ve never seen you bring a plus one to these events before.”

Sylus’ face scrunched up slightly at Ciel’s words in disgust, but his eyes never left the conversing pair. “And why should I tell you?”

Ciel elbowed Sylus as if they were buddies, making the taller man grunt in distaste. “Oh come on, mate! Though she was so cold to everyone when she entered, she seems too bubbly to have been in the N109 Zone for a long while. Where’d you get her from, hmm?” Sylus’ brows raised slightly when Aries accidentally dropped a pen he somehow had (why the hell did he have a pen at an auction?) and you stopped him from getting it, bending down to pick it up. Your front was right in front of Sylus, which in turn meant right in front of Ciel. 

He whistled, grinning at the view you just accidentally gave him. “Now I see why you keep her around. Come on, Sy, mind letting a dear old friend borrow her for the night—”

“I’ve given you many chances to back off, mate. Too many as it seems.” Sylus’ grip on Ciel’s shoulder surprised him, and with how he winced and let out a small whimper of pain, it seemed as if Sylus was slowly getting angrier each second. “I’m being generous today, since it’s not ideal for me to get scolded as of the moment. But if you ever lay a finger on her in the future, I will make sure you never see the light of day. If she doesn’t beat me to it, that is. Understood?”

He could feel the atmosphere around them chill with Ciel’s fear as he nodded vigorously. “Y-Yes, Sy—

“Try again.”

“Yes, sir.”

—--

You sucked in a breath as you watched Ciel and Sylus converse. The moment you noticed your boss’ eyes on you, they flickered away, towards his holster. When he glanced at you again, you shook your head slowly, and you almost cracked a grin when he huffed. It was barely noticeable, but you knew that look anywhere.

Aries seemed to be looking at them, too. “Yeesh,” he grimaced. “They are not getting along.”

Your head turned to the man you had just met, and your brows scrunched in confusion. “Who?”

“Oh,” Aries nervously grinned, clearly embarrassed and ashamed. Ah, you knew already. “The one on the left, h-he’s my uncle.”

Ciel has a nephew? How come I never knew that? You faked surprise, mouth turning into an “o”. “Oh, that makes more sense. In that case, I think I’ve heard about your uncle before. He does trade in… firearms, correct?” You didn’t want to disclose your relation with Sylus yet; it might backfire on you in the long run.

Aries’ eyes lit up at the mention of “firearms”. “Yes! His newest model was actually one of his best works if I do say so myself. Though I might be a bit biased if I say that because I made the blueprint—” He cut himself off, hand to his mouth. “I was rambling, wasn’t I?”

You giggled at his reaction before shaking your head, playfully hitting his arm. “No, it’s fine! So you work with Ciel, then?”

“How do you know his name is Ciel?”

“I know some figures. And your uncle’s pretty famous here.” You saved, internally cursing yourself at the slip up. You glanced at Aries to see if he believed you, and with that smile on his face it seemed as if he did. Thank God.

—--

Sylus could feel his jaw tightening when he saw you practically flirting with that man. He knew how you were towards wealthy people; hell, you were like that to him a week or two after your deal with him. You were hitting that man’s arm playfully for his money. Totally.

But Sylus could give you whatever that man could possibly offer tenfold.

Wait, why did he care again? Right, he didn’t.

With Ciel finally gone, grumbling to himself as he left, Sylus was able to scan what exactly the auction was putting up for sale. Huh, just some gaudy protocores. It seems as if they finally ran out of things to sell.

His eyes went back at you, and his brows raised up in slight curiosity when you eye a protocore. Sylus watched as you walked towards it, and almost staggered on your footing. With furrowed brows, he walked towards you. Whether it was from concern or something else, he wasn’t quite sure. 

“7 million. Wrap it up.” You demanded, exuding an air of sophistication. The air around you was cold, but that was one of the things Sylus liked about you. “Just 7 million? Do you really want people thinking I’m broke around here?”

You tilted your head slightly, though your eyes never left the protocore. After a while, you shook your head. “And do you really want people thinking you don’t know how to strategize your finances? It’s only worth 7 million at max.”

He just shrugged at you. “Alright, then.”

Once you had the two protocores you needed, you took a deep breath. The tug you felt between the two was too much, and you could not extract information from them now. Plus with how weak you were beginning to feel because of having to keep up socially and physically, Sylus’ pull was getting worse by the second.

“What, tired from spending all my money?” Sylus teased, though even with his words, you could feel the soft heat radiating from his palm on the small of your back, aiding you to the car. You laughed humorlessly, not having any more energy after everything that happened today. “This isn’t even a dent in your wallet. And besides, we’ve been here for a couple hours; my social battery is dead.”

Sylus’ chuckle filled your entire brain, and it may be your exhaustion, but it left your cheeks flushed either way. “Speaking of your social life, who was that… man you were talking to?”

Oh, that left you intrigued. You smirked as he opened the door of the car for you, and you raised a brow. “Why, you jealous?” He scoffed as you sat down, and he closed the door, taking his sweet, sweet time to get to the driver’s seat. “What makes you think I’m jealous?” 

You pursed your lips as your boss started the car, tilting your head. “Maybe the fact that you asked?”

He just rolled his eyes at that, lazily removing one hand from the wheel and resting it on your seat to reverse the car. Sylus looked back, giving you a wonderful shot of his side profile. “Well,” oh dear, his voice was close to your ear. Nonchalantly, you turned to look at him. “For your information, I asked because he’s new— I’m going to assume. I hadn’t seen his face until today.”

You huffed, feeling your cheeks flush at his reversing. That’s such a weird thing to get flustered about, you thought to yourself. “Fine, then. His name is Aries, and… I don’t know anything about him.”

At your words, Sylus’ brows knit together in slight confusion and alarm in his face. “What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’? Use your wrist.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, crossing your arms and your legs as he began to drive. “I tried, but I couldn’t. For some reason, there wasn’t any dirt I could pick up on him. Only info I know is because he told me, like how Ciel is his uncle.”

“I knew that.”

“I saw you two speaking. Had a lovely chat?”

He merely grunted as a way of saying, ‘no, what the fuck are you talking about?’ And at that, you giggled. You kept your eyes on the road, though you slowly felt your lids drooping. “Anyway, he seems… intriguing. He works with Ciel in firearms sometimes. Plus, he asked me out.”

… “He asked you out? Where? When?”

“Oh, now you really sound jealous.” You grinned, leaning onto the seat belt so that you could use it as a cradle for your cheek. “I’m not telling you; you’re going to get Mephisto to follow us. He’s cute; I’ll give him a chance. Now,” you over-exaggerated your yawn, stretching slightly in your seat. “If you don’t mind, though I don’t really care if you do, I will sleep. Very tired. Good night.”

Sylus stayed silent for a moment, and just when he was about to respond to you, you were fast asleep the moment he turned to look at you. He shouldn’t be jealous. Er, was this jealousy? Maybe it was overprotection; Sylus was never keen about sharing what was his. And technically, given how you were his right hand woman, you were his. But then again, you going out with someone shouldn’t be his business, especially if said someone could be a valuable asset to Onichynus. But it didn’t make that uneasy feeling at the pit of his stomach settle.

—--

“She’s cute, isn’t she?”

“Uh, yeah, she is. Are- are you sure I have to do this? She seems like a nice gal.”

“Shush! If we strike a deal with Onichynus, the collaboration would give us so many benefits, my boy! And wouldn’t you like to have a pretty little something by your side at the same time?”

“...I don’t know; I thought she and the leader were—”

“She and the leader are nothing. She’s probably just some whore he took pity on. Now, don’t ever doubt this plan again, okay?”

“...”

“Aries.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

[bandgie]

All For You | Armageddon Event

Request: Charity | Seo Changbin & Lee Yongbok (SKZ) by anon song!

warnings! MDNI18+, fem!reader, pussy eating, mxm themes, 3some, double penetration (brief) boobs/nipple play, hair pulling (m!), brief handjob, cum eating (brief)

1.9k words

Dinner is still hot. The smell of cooked meat and kimchi infiltrates your nose. It should make your stomach growl and your mouth salivate. Yet, the reason for your hunger and drooling is not because of dinner at all. It’s the two men, your two lovers, that draw such reactions from you.

It’s quite a juxtaposition to see blonde hair and black hair side-by-side. The tops of their head move concurrently between your legs. You can feel how their tongue mingle and mix while suckling on your clit. Their lips smack and kiss over every inch of your cunt. It makes you arch off the couch just slightly.

“Mmm, just like that.” You intertwine your fingers in their hair. The men hum, vibrating your clit almost like a toy. You let a whimper, bucking your hips from the sensation before their hands grip each hip, putting you back down on the couch.

Felix’s lower half is soaked. You can see how it glistens when he pulls away, letting Changbin take your pussy whole in his mouth. “Just lay still for us.” His deep voice sends shivers throughout your body. “We’ll get you there. There’s no rush.”

You don’t argue with him, nodding obediently. 

Now with more access to you, Changbin doesn’t hold back in sucking you between his lips. He takes your clit into his mouth eagerly, bobbing his head just the slightest while his tongue laps over you.

You can feel how their hold strengthens on your ass as if you might try and grind into the air again, but you manage to keep yourself planted onto the cushions while Changbin pulls on your bundle of nerves.

Instead, you twitch. Your thighs tremble and you tug much harder on Changbin’s hair. 

He lets out a yelp. The pull caused him to pop off your cunt with a wet sound. His unfocused eyes finally settle on you and you babble to apologies. “I-I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? I’m sorry, Binnie. It just felt so good and-”

He smiles, his wet chin shining proudly. “It’s okay, bubba. It didn’t hurt, I promise. You can pull as much as you like if it makes you feel better.” 

Felix giggles, runnung his hand through Changbin’s curly hair and looking at him fondly. 

“You’re so cool, hyung.”

Now Changbin blushes, his lips turning downward into his signature shy smile. “Come help your cool hyung eat this pretty pussy, Yongbok.” Felix chuckles again, adjusting his knees until he’s beside Changbin. You watch his pink tongue push through his lips, but just before he gets a lick in, his warm eyes lock with yours.

“Do you want both of us to taste you, baby?” Felix's small fingers kneed your inner thigh. “Is this what you want?”

You’ll take anything they give you and more. Changbin’s plush lips already feel so good on you, his tongue swiping down to collect your arousal and smear it on your clit. It would be hard to get him to share, you think. Changbin likes eating diligently and eagerly licking his plate clean. He’d make some room for Felix if you asked, but you’re quite content with one mouth on your cunt.

Even then, you don’t want to deter Felix from what he wants to do either. “What do you want, Lixie?”

The groan Changbin lets out in your folds matches Felix’s. “Nuh-uh, don’t do that. Tonight’s about you. Not me or Changbin. It’s okay to tell us what you want.”

Tonight has been all about you. The now-cold dinner is your favorite. The homemade brownies in the oven are for you. Since you woke up, your boyfriends have been more doting than ever. Just because, they told you when you asked why.

Just because.

You feel like you don’t deserve them in the slightest, but as Felix patiently waits for your answer while kissing up and down your thigh, you feel like you belong.

The shirt is already ridden up just below the curve of your breasts, but you pull up the material even more to expose your bare chest. You move your hands to grope the flesh of your tits, pushing them together and pinching your nipples between your fingers.

“C-can you kiss me here?” Despite them seeing you naked countless times, you can’t help the stuttering. And despite those amount of times, Felix’s eyes still widen and Changbin sucks a little harder at the sight of your boobs.

Felix is next to you in a flash. His hips press against your own while he curls his legs on the couch. One hand holds your breast and the other wraps behind your back to bring you closer. 

“Of course, baby.” Felix leans his head and brushes his lips against your bud. “I can kiss you anywhere.”

You hum appreciatively, placing your hands down into their hair. Felix is always tender with you, opting to press chaste kisses to your breasts. He focuses everywhere but your hardened nipple. The warmth of his mouth makes you buck into Changbin’s who happily widens his jaw. 

Felix sucks just above the curve of your breast, turning the skin a pretty pink before it will inevitably darken to a purple hue. The way his tongue laps over your skin has you mewling. A soft sound that makes Felix suck a little harder.

Then he kisses down, down until he finally catches your bud between his lips. With circular movements of his head, Felix runs it over his soft lips. It feels so good, so gentle that you feel yourself gush in Changbin’s mouth.

Your strong lover greedily moans. The wet sound of your cunt and mouth mingling is almost as loud as your whimpers. Felix gets the cue to take your nipple in his mouth, opening his jaw to try and fit your breast in his mouth. 

And when he sucks in correspondence with Changbin, your eyes roll back. Your hips can’t stay planted on the couch anymore that your orgasm builds. Changbin’s head moves with you, keeping his mouth stuck where he belongs.

“F-fuck!” You pull on Felix’s long hair. “Making me feel so good.”

You can feel how Felix smiles against your skin. Hear how Changbin whines affectionately.

Pulling on Felix’s hair suddenly doesn’t feel like enough. You trail your hand lower until you catch his erection underneath his sweats.

“Mmm. So hard.” You palm him, feeling how his tongue swirling on your nipple stutters from your ministrations. He releases your bud and places a kiss on the hickey forming.

“You don’t have to do that.” Felix uses a hand to gently push yours away. “We want to focus on you.”

“But-but you’re so hard. You’re both so hard.” Even if you can’t see Changbin’s lower half, you know he’s humping the bottom of the couch from how his body jolts and shudders. “I want to.”

This catches their attention. Even Changbin, who could mostly likely cum from your taste alone, raises an eyebrow and hesitantly pulls from your cunt. “Want to what?

Rather than telling them, you show them. Your shaky fingers leave their hair and go between your legs.

Looping your arms underneath your thighs, you spread your folds indecently. Slick and spit oozes from your cunt and Changbin licks his lips like he’s about to get another taste for himself, but your whining stops him.

“Inside. I wanna feel you inside.” Your hips buck from the thought of them filling you up. “I wanna cum with you deep in here.”

Changbin’s already nodding, standing up to chuck his shorts down, but Felix smoothes a hand down, rubbing over your cunt.

“You’re not just saying that because you feel bad, right?”

“No!” Gosh, you feel like you could cum just from Felix’s little palm over you. “I want to feel you. I need to feel you. Just fuck me.”

His adam’s apple bobs and he nods. He shrugs his joggers off too, putting them in a pile with Changbin’s who’s already stroking himself.

“Who do you want first, baby?” Changbin huffs. “Tell me.”

Shit. You don't want to choose. “Both! I don’t care how. Just please fuck me already.”

It’s quick how they move you. Changbin has the strength to be under you, holding your thighs apart with his cock just under your ass. It throbs being so close to your entrance, waiting for Felix to place one knee on the couch in front of you and bend just slightly so his tip aligns with you.

They’ve done this before, but not often, and most definitely not in the living room. Still, they couldn’t say no to your desperation. That aroused look in your eyes only intensifies as Changbin uses a hand to grip the base of his cock and find your opening.

“Shiiit.” You moan when his head sinks in. Changbin’s girth spreads you in the first intrusion and Felix has a front-row seat as to how your pussy caves for him.

Changbin breathes in your neck, pressing deeper until his chubby cock fits snug. Your walls pulse around him, cream leaking onto his balls. Felix’s eyes lock on the white substance, reaching a hand down to collect the slick.

You watch with hazy eyes and an open mouth as Felix shoves his fingers between your lips. You happily taste the substance, moaning at the musky flavor of yourself and Changbin. Felix presses his digits deep much like Changbin’s cock, pressing against your tongue to feel your tongue swirl around him.

“Fuck, baby.” Felix moans. “You’re so fucking hot.”

A string of saliva connects you to him even as Felix pulls his fingers away. You grin at him seductively.

“And tight.” Changbin groans in the shell of your ear. “Get in here, Yongbok. She’s waiting.”

It feels like you could finish from just pure excitement. Changbin doesn’t need to thrust. You could cockwarm him while Felix watches. Their presence is enough to feel undeniable pleasure.

That exhilaration multiples when Felix strokes himself. He nods to Changbin’s words, mouth moving to agree, but you can’t hear. So much blood is rushing to your head that you feel faint. Your heartbeat pulses in your ear and all you can hear is its increased rhythm as Felix’s tip touches your clit.

He drags it down, meeting Changbin’s few inches that stick out. He gives you a look. One of caution, trust, and love. 

“Please.”

He sinks in. Your lovers don’t have much length, but their cocks have enough girth to make up for it and more. It feels like you’re being clawed with pleasure, searing your insides with heat. Changbin moans in your ear when Felix presses deeper. Your cunt seeps with more arousal, accommodating the unbelievable stretch.

Changbin widens your thighs to add more room, to let Felix keep going in so his pelvis is flush against your cli-

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The sound of the alarm rings throughout the house. Felix jumps and Changbin holds you tighter as if the sound is threatening. It takes you a second to register that the beeping is coming from the kitchen. 

“What the fu-”

“Ughhh, fuck. The brownies.” Felix grumbles. His grip on your thighs adjusts like he’s about to pull out. You feel his inches slowly slip about before you reach your arms forward and bring him close.

“No! Just leave them.”

“Leave them in the oven?”

“Yongbok.” Changbin’s strangled voice breaks through. “I’m balls deep. You were about to be balls deep. The brownies can wait. They need to cool down anyway.”

Felix’s flushed face turns confused. “How can they cool down in the oven if-”

“Felix!” “Yongbok-ah!”

“Sorry.”

[enhaheeseung]

Come & Go - L. heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warning: smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of round two, dry humping, fingering, implied oral, angst, cum eating, heartbreak, crying, alcohol consumption.

Genre: fuck buddies, smut, mdni!

WC: 7,385

“Heeseung, what are you doing?” Your brows furrow at the sudden action of him wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into your neck, leaving little pecks all over you.

“Shhh, just relax and enjoy it” he trails his kisses lower, nibbling gently on your collarbone.

You lightly push him away by his shoulders so he can give you some space. You’ve made it clear that this was strictly sex between you and him, and there were no feelings involved.

However, lately, it feels like he’s been crossing that barrier you both had put up at the beginning of this fuck buddy relationship.

You let him get away with a few things, like a couple of kisses after you two have done the deed or maybe a little prolonged cuddling, but obviously, he had to take a mile when you gave him an inch.

He sighed and laid on the opposite side of your bed. “I don’t understand why you always make such a big deal out of me kissing you” he was well aware you both had come to an agreement about things that could be done between the sheets vs what couldn’t.

The fact that you could let him take you raw and cum in you, yet you couldn’t kiss him, made absolutely no sense to him at all, to put it simple.

You had some strange rules.

Rules he didn’t agree with. The only reason he came to terms with your proposal was because that’s the only way he could still get to be with you.

Truthfully he didn’t really care about your rules. If It was up to him, you two would have been dating a long time ago.

But sadly, it wasn’t up to him, and you didn’t share his same feelings, so for right now, he had no choice but to comply and respect your rules.

“We already talked about this,” you say while getting out of bed, revealing your naked, sweaty body just for his eyes to see, another thing he couldn’t understand.

He literally got to see all of you, but kissing was off the table.

Nonsense.

What he didn’t know was kissing for you was far more intimate than a quick fuck. Hell, you’d let him take you raw a hundred times before letting him kiss you and risk catching feelings that you didn’t want to feel again because every time you felt them, the person always either cheated on you or left without any explanation and you were not about to go through that again you couldn’t take another heartbreak.

“Okay, but maybe we can talk again,” he says while standing up to put his clothes on.

“Heeseung, it’s late. I think it’s time for you to go” You dismiss his idea of talking. You were already set in stone on this nothing he could say could sway you.

“Come on, y/n, I can tell you like it” he comes up behind you after you put your robe on and presses his shirtless chest against your back. “Tell me you don’t,” he taunts while moving your hair over your shoulder so he can have clear access to place kisses all alongside your neck. “Just tell me when to stop” his hot breath blows on your neck, and you unknowingly tilt your head to the side. He takes that as an open invitation to place one single kiss beneath your earlobe.

Your eyes automatically flutter shut as you get lost in the feel of his soft pink lips, leaving little love marks all over your neck. A sigh of pleasure falls from your lips, causing him to smile against your skin while he swipes the tip of his tongue just above your collarbone.

He hums, and you swear you feel yourself getting wet again, especially when he starts trailing his hands up and down your sides sensually.

You almost moan, and when that happens, you know you need to stop him before you get too aroused and go for a fourth round and allow him to do something you’d ultimately regret. “Stop,” you whisper, and he immediately drops his hands to his side and pulls his face away from you, squeezing his eyes shut, a pained expression taking over his once elated features as he sighs frustratedly. He just can’t understand why you don’t want him the same way he wants you.

He silently turns around and grabs his shirt in the corner of the other side of the room, throwing it on haphazardly.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye, trying to calm your racing heart. You feel guilty cause you can see the clear agitation on his face, but you just can’t bring yourself to get that close with someone ever again, and you made sure he understood that, so he’d just have to get over it.

“So let me get this straight you literally begged me to cum in you more times than I can count. Call me over nearly seven days a week like you can't live without me or something, but when I kiss you, it’s a problem,” he says, confused.

“And?” You ask while tying your robe around your body.

He just laughed and finished fixing his clothes. “Just try calling me earlier than two am tomorrow” he grabbed his jacket and left your apartment. "Fuck" he muttered as he felt the chilly air hit him. He really much rather be wrapped up in your arms in the warmth of your bed but no, because you didn't want that.

You sat down on your chair and grabbed your brush to comb through your hair so you could get ready to take a shower and go to sleep.

Right when you got up, you heard knocking on your door.

Heeseung was halfway to his car when he went to pull out his keys to unlock it, but they were nowhere to be found.

"Damn it" he threw his head back and chuckled, his warm breath getting lost in the cold air of the night.

He jogged at least 30 feet upstairs and knocked on your door.

You jumped from the knock, definitely not expecting it. You set your hairbrush aside and wrapped your robe around your body. Once you heard the knock again, you quickly answered, only to be met with your very handsome fuck buddy.

"I forgot my keys," he smiles sheepishly once you open the door.

You shook your head slightly and let him in. He rubbed his hands together, shivering from the cold outside.

“Okay,” He mumbled and looked at your little nightstand. That's where he usually set them, but they weren't there. He patted his pockets again and felt nothing, but then it finally dawned on him he must've been so excited to see you that he accidentally locked them in his car.

He heard you tapping your foot in the background as he slowly turned to face you. "So uhh, I don't know how to say this, but I think I kinda sorta locked my keys in the car." He squints his left eye in a playful manner.

"You're not staying here," you said right away, already knowing where he was going with that statement.

"Why not? I'm sure you wouldn't mind fucking me again" he smirked, and you wanted to punch his dumb pretty face in.

"Shut up" You glared at him and tied your robe up, suddenly feeling exposed by his hungry stare as his eyes raked over your body.

"You were definitely not saying that a few minutes ago. If I recall correctly, you actually asked me to moan your name louder when you were riding my dick so eagerly" he shrugged. Obviously, he was only teasing you, but you hated how his words made you blush, and your mind wandered back to that moment.

It's not your fault he sounded so good moaning, and he literally had the best dick you've ever had, so of course, you were eager to have it inside you. "Heeseung, get out" You opened the door and pointed down the hall of your apartment.

He put his hands up in defense while smiling. "I'm going, I'm going," he chuckled. "But if you happen to change your mind about fucking me again, I'll be downstairs waiting for my ride."

"I fucking hate you."

"But you love my dic-" You slammed the door in his face before he could say whatever nonsense he made up.

He giggled as he jogged down the stairs and waited in the corridor. Luckily for him, he didn't lock his phone in the car too. He quickly pressed call on his best friend's number, hoping he'd still be up at this ungodly hour.

And once he realized how late it actually was, he felt so pathetic for going over to your house to eat you out at two in the morning.

He knew he deserved better than to be just a late-night hook-up, but what could he say? He was smitten by you since that dumb party where his friends drunkenly pushed him in your direction cause he had been staring at you all night.

He could almost hear Jake telling him to grow a pair before pushing him into you and making you spill your drink on your shirt, which led him to apologize to you and take you upstairs to get a new shirt one thing led to the next, and when he woke up in the morning you had left a note with your number on it.

But when he showed up at your house with the idea of having sex and getting to know you better and maybe take you on a date, he was unpleasantly surprised by the friends-with-benefits proposal you had mentioned after you both had sex. It left a bitter taste in his mouth cause he wanted something more than that, but what could he say? He was a simp for you. He'd do anything you wanted him to.

After a couple of rings, his friend groggily answered the phone. "Hi, Jay. You know how much I love you, right?"

Let's just say he owed Jay a big big favor after this one.

"So you're telling me you went to get your dick wet, and you locked your keys in your car?" Jay questioned it was officially the next morning, and he just let heeseung stay at his place for the time being.

"Yes," heeseung mumbled, and he felt stupid when Jay put it like that.

"Please tell me it's not still that same girl from the party last year?" Jay groaned at his friend, who had his head hung low, practically giving him the answer to his question. "It's literally been a year since you've been fucking around with her. When are you going to give up?"

Heeseung sighed, feeling like he was having this conversation for what felt like the twentieth time. "I don't know." He mumbled while picking at his nails.

Jay pitied his friend. He had no idea heeseung would have been this head over heels for you when Jake and Sunghoon egged him on to talk to you cause they had seen the way he’d been staring your way all night. He didn't know that heeseung was actually going to mess around with you after that night. He thought it was just a crazy night at a party where you do dumb shit and regret it in the morning, but with heeseung, that wasn't the case.

The alert tone on heeseung's phone broke the silence. He smiled at his phone, reading a text from you asking him to come to your place. He replied quickly and set his phone down, bouncing his leg impatiently, waiting for Jay to end his lecture.

"Last night, you said you'd do me a favor, right?" Jay asked.

Heeseung just nodded in response, itching to bolt out of there any minute.

"If nothing happens in the next month, you got to let her go. We don't even hang out anymore" Jay didn't show it, but he missed his friend and their silly little hangouts with the rest of the guys. "And even if we do, all she has to do is send a text, and you're leaving us for her," heeseung frowned. It was true hell he was even doing it right now. "You're a good guy" Jay stood up and patted heeseung's shoulder, taking his cereal bowl to the sink for him. "I just don't want to see you getting hurt."

Heeseung felt bad for all the times he bailed on hangouts, all the times he woke up in the middle of the night just to go and please you, and the nights he even sometimes cried cause no matter what he did, you still didn’t like him back. "One month, and then I promise it's over," he told Jay while standing up. He smiled with a small nod of his head, approving of heeseung’s deal heeseung came to the conclusion this definitely wasn't worth losing friends over, especially great friends like he had.

But still, there was a month left, and he was going to make the most of it.

He walked to the door, putting on his shoes. "I'll see you tonight.'

"You don't even have a-" The door was shut in Jay’s face before he could finish. "Car," he sighed with a slight shake of his head and continued to wash the dishes.

“I need you so bad,” you said when heeseung arrived at your door. You pulled him inside by the collar of his shirt and slammed the door shut. He let you drag him over to your bed and push him down on it.

“I can tell,” he chuckled as you got on top of him. Lifting his shirt up, he put his arms above his head, making it easier for you to take it off.

You bit your lip to contain a moan cause the sight of his bare skin would never cease to amaze you. Plus, he always looked so good with messy, unkempt hair, something that you wish he’d come over with more often.

Heeseung wasn’t exactly in the mood when he walked up to your apartment door, but as you roughly pushed him down on your bed and started caressing his chest with your cold fingers and grinding against his clothed bulge, he was more than in the mood. “Fuck” he accidentally moaned, and he looked so cute when his eyes widened in surprise at the little sounds he made.

You giggled and bent down, licking around each of his nipples, stimulating him in the best way. He always gave you the best reactions whenever you touched him in his extra sensitive areas. “You’re so” You paused for a milli second and played it off by pressing your lip’s against his adam’s apple.

You were about to call him cute, but the last thing you wanted him to think was that you were actually starting to like him.

“Y/n,” he gulped harshly as he tightly gripped the bedpost above his head. “W-wait, wait,” he breathed out, attempting to calm his beating heart.

You sat upright, examining his face for any signs of discomfort, but you found none. “Something wrong?” You say gently and brush your fingers along his jawline.

“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that” his eyes roll as he puffs out a long sigh, chest already heaving up and down.

“Then cum” you say with a smile as you place your hands on his sweaty chest grinding back and forth on his hardness.

He moves his hands from the bedpost to your hips, pressing you down roughly as a vein on the side of his neck makes itself prominent. “Shit, this feels so good,” he says, rocking your hips steadily back and forth. “Mmm fuck” he whimpers, feeling his dick twitching inside the confines of his jeans. He could have sworn he’s never felt so needy before in his life. He didn’t know just dry humping could have him this worked up.

You loved watching his face flush as pleasure finally washed over him. A loud groan soon follows as you feel his strong muscles flexing underneath you as he begins to shake and shamelessly cum inside his pants. “Fuck y/n,” he grunts, bucking his hips up into you until he gets too sensitive to keep going.

He lowers his hands to massage your ass and sneakily starts rubbing his finger over your entrance, and he can’t help but smirk when he feels the wetness seeping through both layers of your skimpy silk sleepwear.

A whisper of his name comes from your chapped lips when he easily pulls your shorts down around your thighs and begins prodding at your hole as if he was fingering you.

You whine from the small contact, and he continues to tease you as you try to push your hips back and make him finger you properly. “Little desperate tonight, hmm?” He breathlessly chuckles as you throw your head back and basically hump the air in frustration as he plays with you through your clothes.

“Heeseung, please,” you whine, gripping onto his shoulders tightly, and it didn’t take much for him to cave in and give you what you wanted by pushing your panties to the side and sinking his girthy fingers past your hole. You bite your lip, whimpering softly, when you finally feel him inside of you.

“Baby, you’re already soaked,” he says, mesmerized by the feeling of your tight wet cunt taking his fingers so well and so so deep.

You took a moment to sit up slightly and removed your shirt, hoping he wouldn’t notice how shy his comment made you, and he seemed to miss it as you leaned back on top of him, caging his head between your forearms and putting your chest right within his mouths reach.

“Fuck baby” he takes your nipple in his mouth, using it to muffle his moans as his hard, wet cock strains against his jeans.

You run your fingers through his hair, getting a whiff of his shampoo that smells like vanilla and something else sweet. You loved his smell the most. It always added to the pleasure that he gave to you.

He licked between your breasts, leaving a trail of spit behind as he switched to your other hardened nipple sucking the small bead into his mouth gently.

“Oh, hee,” you moaned, riding his fingers as they pumped deep inside you.

He let go of your tit with a rough nibble that made you squeak in pain and moan in pleasure.

He switched to licking your chest, running his hot tongue over your mounds, sucking and biting here and there, littering your chest with little pink and red love marks.

He bucked his hips up, searching for some relief of his own. You took notice of this, slowing your pace on his fingers. “What’s wrong?” He asked, feeling a little scared that he might have done something you didn’t like.

“Nothing,” you said as you gently tugged on his wrist, giving him a hint to pull out of you, which he did only seconds later. “Need to feel more of you” he couldn’t hide the slight smile on his face as you held his wrist to his mouth. He eagerly sucked his fingers completely clean of your arousal, making something stir in the pit of your stomach as you watched the sinful scene unfold right in front of you.

“How do you want me?” He says, looking up at you with hazy lust filled eyes.

Your heart rate picked up from hearing just those few little words, and your mind was already in a frenzy. Thinking of all the ways you could have him or have him take you, you just simply couldn’t choose.

“Tell me, I’ll do whatever you want,” he looks up at you attentively and gives himself to you, waiting patiently as he kisses your forearm while rubbing your sides up and down slowly.

You melt when you feel how gentle his touch is and the feather-light kisses he leaves on your body.

The look in his eyes suddenly makes you feel shy, so instead of saying what you wanted, you got from on top of him and laid on your back. “Like this,” you say just above a whisper.

He smiles softly, propping himself up on his elbows as he hovers over you. “As you wish,” he kissed down your chest. The heated kisses he left on your skin made your body tingle in excitement.

His kisses came to a stop when he reached the waistband of your panties. His warm, delicate fingers pull the flimsy material off your desperate body. He moans quietly at the sight, still amazed by how wet you got whenever he was with you.

You squeezed your legs together impatiently, waiting for him to finally give you what you’ve been craving.

Once he saw just how much you needed him, he stood up for a quick moment to undress himself fully before looming over you once more.

“Beautiful as always,” he murmured against your neck, kissing you there and moving to nibble on your earlobe as he ruts himself into your slick heat, gathering your natural lubricant to make the slide easier when he enters you. “Ready?” He says, stroking your cheek. You quickly nod your head, not even trying to hide how much you need him.

He groans impatiently while gripping your thighs and wrapping them around his waist.

You hang onto his shoulders as you feel him pushing past your tight entrance, slowly easing his way inside you, being extra careful not to hurt you.

Your mouth instantly parts in a moan as soon as you feel him entering you. The feeling of his body pressed against yours, his warmth covering you like a blanket and becoming conjoined with him, was by far the greatest feeling you have ever experienced.

A shaky breath leaves his lips once he completely bottoms out inside you. His palm cups your cheek as he very slowly rocks his hips.

He lowers his head until his lips are just a mere inch away from yours. You suck in a deep breath, and you don’t know why but when he slowly closed his eyes and shifted his head to the side, pressing a kiss to your cheek instead of your lips, you felt a hint of disappointment. “You make me feel so good,” he whispered in your ear, his warm breath blowing against your face making you feel shivers all over your body.

“Mhm hee,” you allow your eyes to fall shut as he kisses all over your neck, not missing a single inch.

Your arms encircled his waist, and you trail the tips of your fingers over his flexed back. “I was waiting all day for this” he nudges his nose over your collarbone before switching to the right side of your neck, marking you there with all his love. “I wait every day for this,” he leans back, causing your eyes to flutter open, and you see him staring back at you with his deep brown eyes, a small crease forming in between his eyebrows every time he pulls out and slowly pushes back in.

Despite him not kissing you, it still felt too intimate, too romantic the lights were dim, setting the mood just right. The sweet nothings he whispered in your ear made you feel cared for, and his slow pace was just the cherry on top.

You quickly erased those sentimental feelings from your head and just focused on him and feeling him.

He definitely wasn’t the only one waiting for this moment, as much as you’d deny it. Seeing him was the highlight of your day, especially if you were stressed and tired like today. You weren’t even sure how just his presence alone could take all that away, but somehow it did.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about being with him in an actual relationship, but every time you thought about a possible negative outcome, you just couldn’t bring yourself to take things further with him, no matter how desperately you wanted to.

But as long as he’d be there at your every call, then that was all you needed.

“So do I,” you whisper back, and you swear you see his eyes gleam from your words. You feel another kiss pressed to your cheek as you hold his body close to yours. “Heeseung,” you gasp when you feel his hand between your legs as he slowly circles your clit with his thumb.

“Shh baby, I have you” he leaned his forehead against yours, bucking his hips just a bit faster.

He breathes through his nose, sweat beads cascading down his perfectly toned abdomen as he brings you closer and closer to bliss. “Y/n,” he whispers, his mind completely numb from the way you feel wrapped around him. When he feels himself slipping, he has to bite his tongue to hold himself back from confessing his true feelings for you. “I’m so close” On cue, you feel him twitch within your heat.

“Hee,” you moan his name as your brows furrow and your lips part to let out every pant and soft breath within you.

“Cum baby, let it all go for me” The combination of his soft voice, his slow, precise movements, and the sweet seduction of his words finally makes let yourself go in his arms.

“Hee-heeseung” You let out a sob-like moan as you pulsate around him, and that ultimately makes him follow your lead and spill his love deep within your spasming core.

“That’s it, baby, I’m cumming” he whispers before kissing your forehead as the peak of his orgasm overtook his whole entire body. You feel his limbs jolt from the pleasure while you grip tightly onto his shoulders and ride out your mind-numbing highs together.

“Y/n,” he whimpers quietly as he puts his full weight on you, completely spent and soaked in sweat while filling you up with everything he had to give you.

You hum softly, savoring the moment and his warmth while your body regulates itself.

Absentmindedly your hand meets the back of his head, and you unknowingly stroke the damp strands of his hair. He melts from the feeling, surprised that you haven’t already told him to get dressed yet.

He finds the crook of your neck and buries his face there, basking in your heat as he pecks you endlessly, and you’re too tired to even protest, not to say you would, though. “Doesn’t this feel good?” He says, trying to persuade you into agreeing with him.

You don’t say anything, but your answer is pretty evident when you don’t move, and he smiles at that, continuously kissing all over your neck. “You should go get cleaned now,” you say, hoping that would get him off of you because you didn’t have it in you to physically push him away, not this time.

“I’m good,” he replies, still kissing your neck and occasionally rolling his hips ever so slightly, reminding you that he still hasn’t pulled out of you just yet. “Besides, my clothes are ruined, and I don’t just walk around with spares,” you sigh. He was right, and you couldn’t even get angry cause you were the one that made him cum in his pants.

“Fine, but leave in the morning” Your blunt words didn’t match the way you soothingly rubbed his back, he wanted to tease you about it, but he doesn’t test his luck. Right now, he’s just living in the moment.

“Okay, but for right now, round two” he holds himself above you, a grin plastered on his face as you feel his length growing inside you once again. There’s no way that you could say no.

“You’re never going to believe this,” heeseung calls Jay from your apartment, still very much naked and smiling giddily at the note you left him about his clothes being washed and folded on your nightstand.

“The fact that you’re calling me at six in the morning? You’re right. I can’t believe it,” heeseung smiles when he hears his friend's voice.

“No, not that! Y/n literally let me spend the night with her,” he says excitedly. For the first time in the year he’s been seeing you, he felt that he was finally making some progress with you.

“And you called me for that?” He replies dryly.

“Jay, this is like… monumental,” he exclaimed, trying to get Jay to understand just how much this meant to him. “For the first time, I actually feel like there could be something more between us.”

Jay sighed. He supposed heeseung was right, but at the same time, that wasn’t exactly a clear indicator that you liked him just cause you let him spend the night. “Aren’t you happy for me?” Heeseung muttered when he heard nothing but silence on the other end of the phone.

“No heeseung I am,” he sighs. “I just don’t want you getting your hopes up too much, okay? Was there a reason she let you stay?” Jay asks, hoping to get more info on the situation.

“No, well, I didn’t have clothes to change into after we, you know, but she left me a note and folded my clothes.” He says happily.

“What did the note say?” Jay rises up from the comfort of his bed and rubs the sleep from his eyes, knowing he isn’t going to be able to go back to bed.

“Left for work, washed and folded your clothes. Feel free to shower before you leave,” he read the note again.

“That’s it?” Jay said, a bit puzzled. He thought the note would at least contain some type of sentiment.

“What do you mean that’s it?” All that could be heard was a deep sigh.

“I mean, at this point that’s just hospitality” he wasn’t trying to kill heeseung’s mood, but clearly, there was nothing there that made it sound like you were into him. You could have at least written a small heart or a smiley face, anything.

“Of course, it’s not. She did it 'cause she likes me,” heeseung concluded in his head.

“Look, I’m not saying she doesn’t like you, but you can’t get excited over a note with practically nothing in it,” Jay said the cold hard truth.

“You don’t get it. Why would she do it if she didn’t like me? She could have just woken me up, tossed me my clothes, and told me to leave” Jay thought he kinda had a point there, but even still, that was reaching.

“Heeseung, I don’t want to come off as rude, but I think she would have done that for anyone,” Jay replies with a heavy heart.

“Anyone?” Heeseung scoffed. “Yeah, okay”

“Heeseung, I’m jus-“ he got interrupted before he could continue.

“I’m coming over in a few. I’ll see you then” Heeseung agitatedly hung up his phone. “What does he know?” He mumbled while getting dressed. He knew Jay was just looking out for him, but why couldn’t he see that you were finally receptive to his feelings?

Either way, he was going to make you his, with or without the support of his friends.

Okay, so maybe you weren’t as receptive to his feelings as much as he once thought.

Though the sex was amazing, you still hadn’t called him over at a decent hour after that night, nor did you let him spend the night again, which made him think about the conversation he had with Jay the day after.

Maybe he was right. Maybe that was just you showing him hospitality. As the one-month mark drew closer and closer, he couldn’t deny the disappointment he felt in his chest cause he knew sooner than later, he’d have to let you go.

He tried calling you to reverse the rolls, maybe to see if you’d come to him, but even that was a huge fail when you didn’t bother to answer any of his calls.

“Jay was right” It made him feel sick to his stomach. He was holding onto you for a whole year, foolishly thinking that sometime down the road, he’d become something more to you than just a fuck buddy, but unfortunately, he was wrong so wrong.

He laid in his bed, cheek pressed against his pillow as he mindlessly looked out the window, wondering how he was going to get over you.

Even when the sun set, ways to get over you were still lingering in his mind, and hours after thinking, he still didn’t come to a conclusion. He huffs out a sigh, feeling embarrassed and pathetic, even to an extent he feels used and ashamed because he so willingly gave his body to you just for you to use, and he thinks that’s the part that was killing him the most he gave you his everything yet he got nothing from you in return.

A single tear rolls down his cheek and immediately gets absorbed in his pillow. He couldn’t be angry with his friends for making him approach you. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t even be mad at you, but he could be mad at himself cause he was the one who made the stupid decision to agree to your rules and be there at your every beck and call. If he had just an ounce of dignity for himself, then he would have said no, but when it came to you, any rational thought went totally out the window, and that’s why he’s in his bed still crying his eyes out for you half past midnight.

You received heeseung’s calls, but you were too nervous to answer. He never called you first, so why was he doing it now?

What was he calling about? Did he not want to see you anymore? Did he want to see you? You didn’t know, and it was starting to make you feel stressed. The calls you received from him were already a day CD old (that random “CD” was my cat's contribution to the story, btw, enjoy!!!), and he never called again, so maybe he was just calling you for a hookup.

You paced back and forth, trying to figure out why he could be calling.

You felt nervous cause ever since that night. He stayed over. You couldn’t seem to erase him from your mind.

When you woke up next to him, you almost melted seeing his features up close, and in the daylight, you knew he was handsome, but seeing him so close and crystal clear was a sight you’d never forget. You could see every little detail on his face. Even the small mole on his ear was adorable.

Your hand moved on its own as you brushed his hair away from his eyes. He stirred a little and mumbled your name, but soon after he went back to sleep, with a cute pout on his lips, you had the right mind to just snuggle up closer to him and fall back asleep in his arms, but unfortunately, you had work which you were now going to be late to cause you stayed and adored your fuck buddy for ten minutes too long.

And that’s when you came to the shocking realization that he was no longer your fuck buddy. He was so much more than that.

He was your stress relief. He was your go-to when you were feeling low. He was the only thing that kept you somewhat grounded with your hectic schedules.

Your pacing came to a dramatic halt. Without thinking twice about it, you called his phone so he could come over, and you’d do something you never thought of doing.

You were going to confess.

No biggie, right? If he turns you down, you’d be able to take it, right? It’s just rejection, right? Not like all the others who gave you hope and just left you, so everything would be okay.

One long sigh escapes your body, and your heart literally feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest from how fast it’s racing.

After the third ring, you felt like hanging up. Everything in your body was screaming at you to hang up, but the thought of hearing his voice on the other side made you stay on the line.

Well, thirty days, one whole month has passed, and still, there was no indication that you liked him back, so he decided to give up on the idea of being with you entirely.

Even though he didn’t feel like it, Jay had convinced him to go out so he could take his mind off you and celebrate him moving on from you, which in his mind was not something to be celebrated. What was there to celebrate about him getting his heart absolutely crushed?

Still, he couldn’t deny it would take his mind off you, so he agreed so they could all finally band together how they used to. Heck, it’s been months since he even spoke to Jake or Sunghoon.

“I’m proud of you,” Jay says over the music in the club that they’re currently visiting.

Heeseung barely managed to smile. He knew Jay was being supportive, and he was beyond thankful for it, but right now, it was just a tough time for him to be going through.

“Yeah, Jake won’t admit it, but he misses you,” Sunghoon adds while refilling his cup.

“I do not!” Jake's eyes widened as he smacked sunghoons shoulder.

“So why did I catch you looking at old pictures of us with tears in your eyes?” Sunghoon taunts.

“He did that?!” Heeseung says, suddenly interested in Jake’s silly behavior.

Sunghoon nodded. “And then he tried to play it off and say “he was drunk,” but I still don’t believe him,”

“Well, you guys don’t have to miss me any longer,” heeseung says regretfully.

Jake and Sunghoon both look at him with questionable looks, and Jay gives him a nod to continue.

“I’m not seeing you know who anymore,” he tells them they already knew the reason for his absence and that it was because he was with you nearly every single day.

The table goes silent for a while, sunghoon and Jake not knowing what to say. It’s been a year since heeseung had been seeing you and trying to get with you.

They knew just how much he truly liked you, so they didn’t know what to say about the sensitive topic.

“Say something, guys,” heeseung chuckles, uncomfortable from the obvious silence. “Come on, I already feel pathetic enough, so please don’t pity me” he forced a smile while pouring himself a drink despite his cup being nearly full, and it was clear he was just putting on a front for his friends.

“We’re sorry,” Sunghoon mutters.

“Yeah, we know you liked her a lot. It’s all my fault. I should have never made you talk to her” Jake slumped in his chair, sulking.

“It’s no one’s fault but my own, so there is no need to feel sorry. Just fill me in on what you all have been up to?” He smiles while changing the topic to something else.

“We just got back fro-“ Jay goes silent when he sees heeseung’s phone light up.

Heeseung heard his phone buzzing. He tried to ignore it, but he just had to know if it was you or not. He flipped it over, and low and behold, it was you calling him for once at a decent hour. His fingers were itching to hit the accept button, and he was about to until he looked up and saw Jay quietly shaking his head back and forth.

He sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair, continuing to let it ring, but Jay was right.

Right?

He just wonders why all of a sudden, were you calling him before two in the morning. You always called him late, well, except for that one time.

“But-“ Heeseung says, still watching his phone buzzing.

“Don’t,” Jay warns.

“Just one more night,” heeseung pleads.

“What is one more night going to change? Besides, you owe this to me, to us, and more importantly to yourself, enough of this already. When are you going to wake up and see that she doesn’t care about you!” Jay says agitatedly, and he instantly regrets his words when he sees heeseung’s face completely drop.

The table once again fell silent until the call had ended.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that-“ Heeseung cuts Jay off with a small smile.

“No, you’re right” he swallows the lump in his throat. “She doesn’t care about me” he smiles sadly, his finger hovering over the block button, and with trembling hands, he closes his eyes as a single tear runs down his cheek, and he finally does. He taps the block button regretfully. “I think I should go home,” he tells the group and wipes his tears before they could see that he was crying.

“No,” Jake quickly stands up and grabs his hand. “We need to cheer you up,” Sunghoon nods in agreement.

“Thanks, guys, but I’m really not in the moo-“

“Nonsense, we’re gonna dance all the pain away! Isn’t that right, hoon?” Jake says with a smile.

“I haven’t danced since prom,” Sunghoon grumbles but stands up never the less. “You’re not gonna make me do this alone,” he laughs and coaxes Jay into their little cheer-up group.

“I’m gonna need another drink for this one,” Jay says but takes the whole bottle to the dance floor instead.

“It’s late. I think-“ Heeseung still tries to protest, but obviously, they were not having it.

“No thinking, just dancing,” Jake interrupted.

“Fine,” heeseung finally shows them a genuine smile when he sees his other friends already dancing or whatever they were calling it. “But no girls.”

“Pfft, girls? Who needs em’? This is boys' night!” Jake shouts over the music, and heeseung can’t help but smile at the fact that his friends were willing to make absolute fools out of themselves just so he could cheer up, but maybe Jake was right. Who needs girls when you have your best friends?

You pout when you hear the call go to his voicemail.

You don’t want to seem desperate, but at this point, you are you haven’t seen him for a few days, and you miss him dearly and not just for sex, so without another thought, you call him again, except this time, it doesn’t even ring, which makes you furrow your brows in confusion and frown.

After five more attempts, you can only conclude that he must have blocked your number. At first, you thought maybe his phone was dead, but why would it have rung multiple times before?

You sat on your sofa, sighing to yourself as you set your phone aside and cupped your face in your hands as tears started to gather in your eyes. “You did it again,” you say to yourself, feeling that same heartbreak that you never wished to feel again.

Maybe this was just your fate falling in love only for your heart to get broken over and over again.

Like a never ending cycle.

No wonder he called you a few days ago. Now you were connecting the dots. He must have been calling you to break things off, and when you didn’t answer, he just decided to block you.

You hated yourself cause how could you let this happen again when you told yourself it wouldn’t, but in your defense, heeseung just felt different. You don’t know why, but he did so different that you let your walls down and let him into your heart, only for him to steal it and run away.

You smiled to yourself, already trying to mend your heart. This has happened before, and you made it through, so this was nothing new you wiped your tears and convinced yourself that everything would be okay and that you’d be okay.

Cause heartbreak always comes and goes.

Tell me how you liked it. Please don’t forget to reblog!!!

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[sturniozo]

In The Shadows I

masterlist

Most people that work for their father’s company have no choice, they’re thrown into it against their will. I was no different. Ever since I learned what my father really did for a living he had decided it would be what I do to. And I do it well. I’ve been training since I was 16. Now, 6 years later I’m the greatest assassin his company has ever produced.

My father runs a business, a hit man business. Some people are rich enough to hire people like us, people like me. We don’t just kill, we erase. We make people suffer and we make them silenced. Some people hire us just to investigate, gather information on an enemy.

You wouldn’t believe the amount of people that have wanted others dead. Exes wanting revenge, spouses wanting to collect life insurance, adult children sick of their parents. Some of their reasoning isn’t even good, but hey, moneys money right?

The cash isn’t even why I do it. It’s the thrill. Being undercover, being sneaky, solving things people had made difficult because they thought they were smart enough to hide them.

Everything I do, I do for the thrill. That rush of adrenaline that I’ve yet to let anyone who cares about me know about. Most assassins are like me though. No one really does it for the money. That’s just a bonus.

My father’s the only one who knows what I do. He made me what I am today. A killer. Not even my boyfriend of two years knows. He thinks I’m a planner at a company that sells stocks. That’s my cover. Thats my lie.

My eyes snap open as I hear my alarm go off. I dig under my pillow for my phone and shut off the alarm. I set my phone down on the night stand and rub my eyes. 5 am. I look over to my side and see my sleeping boyfriend, Luke. No doubt he went to bed not even an hour ago. He spends most nights staying up all night playing video games.

I sit up in bed and yawn. I get up and make my way to my bathroom. I take a quick shower before leaving to my usual coffee shop for breakfast.

The barista hands me my usual order with a smile. I’m used to seeing her here almost every day. Her usual days off are Wednesday and Friday. I sip on my coffee as I head back to my car. The clock on the console reads 6:53 am. I set the coffee down in the cup holder and drive off to the building I spend so many days in during my childhood, before I knew what it held.

I park in my usual spot, right next to my father’s car. I get out the car with my purse and my coffee, heading to the building entrance. I nod at Bobbie, the security girl, as I swipe my access card. It grants me access to the building and I head straight to my father’s office as I do every morning.

“Ah, good morning my dear.” My dad says as he gets out of his chair and walks to me for a hug.

“Good morning, Dad.” I say as I hug him back tightly.

He pulls away and smiles at me. “What do you have for me today?” He asks.

I dig through my purse and find a little paper bag. I hand it to him. “Open it.” I say while biting my lip to contain my excitement.

My father smiles at me and opens the little paper bag, letting a ring fall out onto his hand. “24 karat diamond?” He asks as he examines it.

“Yep. Fresh off the finger of a very unlucky divorcé.” I tell him.

“Ah, so this is the proof of contract completion for that Mrs. Aubrey then?”

“Ms. Aubrey.” I correct. “And yes, her ex husband won’t be bothering her or her children anymore.”

“That’s a good girl, I knew I could count on you.” My father smiles and puts the ring back in its paper bag. “I’ll have it delivered to her tonight, expect your payment in full my tomorrow morning dear.” He sits back down in his chair.

I sit down in the seat in front of his desk. “That’s my last contract, I’m officially out of running orders.” I say with a laugh.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ve got something for you.” My dad smiles as he begins typing away at his computer.

“What is it?” I ask, leaning in.

“I’ll tell you in a bit, go on back to your office dear.”

“Why wait?”

“There’s more than just you and I for this contract, it’s a big one.”

I smile brightly. My father’s finally giving me a big important contract for my own. “All right. Just call my office when you’re ready for me, Dad.” I say with a smile as I get up from the seat.

“I’ll see you in a bit, dear.” He says as he waves me off.

I walk out of his office and to the elevator. My father’s office is on the top floor, while mine is about seven floors below that, a bit more than 2/3 of the way up the whole building. I walk out of the elevator and see the cubicles. I’m glad I got to skip that part.

I walk down the cleared walkway to my office, but am stopped when someone waves me over.

Casey. She started here as an information analyst just over a year ago. Now she profiles the subjects of our contracts. She’s the one who decides which assassin does what job.

“Hey, Casey.” I rest my arms over her cubicle.

“So, your new contact.” She smiles at me.

“I take it you chose me?” I laugh.

“No, this one came straight from the big man, your dad.” She says.

“Ah, okay. So you have no idea what it is then?” I ask.

“Nope.” She shakes her head.

“Then what did you call me over for?” I ask with a laugh.

“To gossip, duh! What else?” She laughs.

“I’m not one to gossip, Casey, you know that.” I say as I begin to walk away.

“I just wondered if you heard anything about the new guy.” She shrugs.

I turn back to her. “New guy?” I ask.

“He’s on loan from another industry. Apparently he’s their best assassin. Might even be right up there with your skill.” She chuckles.

“Who is it?” I ask.

“Well, I didn’t get a name, but he’s handsome. I snuck a peak at his photo in his file when I was in your dad’s office yesterday.” She smirks. “He’s gorgeous, like a god!” She whispers.

I laugh. “He’s a trained killer?”

She nods. “His file was definitely an assassin file.”

I shake my head. “Don’t be spreading this around. Idle gossip isn’t what people come here for.” I say before walking into my office.

I shut the door behind me and let out a breath. I walk to my desk and set down my now half drunk coffee and my purse. I rub my temple and check the time on my phone. 8:14 am.

I groan and lay my head down in my arms on my desk. No contracts, no one to research or study. Nothing. I sigh and start scrolling aimlessly on my phone.

I get bored fast and see my phone down on my desk. I run my fingers over my face and bounce my knee up and down. The agony and boredom is killing me.

I shake my head and begin searching through my drawers, taking everything out and organizing everything. Within an hour I have everything in my office rearranged. I step back and look at it all, smiling.

I turn around and look out the glass wall of my office. Anyone who looked in here would think I was crazy. I just tore apart my entire office and rearranged it all in an hour, just out of boredom.

Staring out the glass I see someone who makes my breath hitch. Matt Sturniolo. Matt worked at this company years ago. He was one of my father’s greatest assassins. He even taught me most of my tricks. But that all changed when Matt betrayed me.

The call finally comes. My father telling me it’s time to go back up to his office. I have a weird feeling in my stomach, a feeling Matt has something to do with it.

I make my way to the elevator and go back up to my father’s office. I walk out of the elevator and stop when I see him. Matt standing in my father’s office. Just talking with him.

I gather my courage and walk into his office, ignoring Matt completely. “Got the call,” I say to my dad. “What’s the contract?”

“Y/n, you know Matt Sturniolo.” My dad gestures to Matt. I side eye him before looking back at my dad.

“Yes, I remember him.” I mumble.

“He’s your partner for this contract.”

My jaw drops. “He- what?” Matt laughs and I turn to glare at him. “What’s so funny?” I ask him.

“Just you.” Matt says. “You’re like a high school girl with a grudge.”

I glare at him before turning back to my dad. “There’s got to be someone else, or I could just do it myself!” I tell him.

“No, you two are the best assassins I’ve ever met, the best trained killers, the best investigators, the best of the best. I need both of you for this.” My father says in a demanding tone.

“What’s the contract?” Matt asks.

“Finley Wilson.” My father stands up and hands both Matt and me a folder. “Collector of rare curios. He’s not the target though, your job is to befriend him. Pose as a couple in search of useless art and befriend Wilson. Find out who he cares about the most.”

I stare at my father. “Us? A couple?” I point between Matt and myself.

“I won’t hear any of your complaining.” My dad says. “This is an important contact, I want reports every night. Your flight leaves tomorrow afternoon, I suggest you be ready then, understand?” My father says sternly.

I nod and keep my mouth closed.

“Good. Don’t worry, I’ll have your things for your cover sent with you. You’ll need to make a believable couple, and Wilson will have to believe you’re a rich couple looking to buy his curios. That is important. You need him to believe this cover. He’s paranoid, it won’t be easy.”

Matt closer the folder and holds it under his arm. “Where are we going?” He asks.

“Switzerland.”

TAGS: @sturniolopookie @savageking3 @tastesousweet @jko3005 @sturniolo0ntop @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer

[storiesofsvu]

A Dangerous Game Ch 5

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, smut, oh so much smut. minor brief talk of CM type cases.

The irony was not lost on you nor Emily when the next case took the team to Vegas.

*

“We… can’t keep doing this.” You panted between breathless kisses, whimpers and quiet moans swallowed up by Emily’s lips as she pinned you to the wall, her cock dragging across your sensitive walls, both of your naked bodies coated in a glistening layer of sweat.

“Dunno..” she panted back, wrapping one of your legs tighter around her waist and you gasped at the change in angle, “you seemed pretty enthusiastic about it earlier.”

“Fuck…” your head dropped onto her shoulder, “oh god… you’re right. Please don’t stop…”

“Yeah?” She murmured, a wicked grin on her lips, “you like that?” She swiveled her hips again and you groaned, biting down on her shoulder.

“So good.” You moaned back, your head dropping to the wall behind you, “oh fuck! Harder! Please daddy!” Emily’s free hand whipped up, clamping over your mouth, a dangerous glare in her eyes,

“Quiet princess.” She practically growled, “we can’t risk anyone hearing you. Those pretty little noises are just for daddy, understand?”

“Mmmhmm.” You nodded, your eyes begging for her to not stop and she grinned.

“That’s my good girl.” She continued thrusting into you, letting your whimpers and whines vibrate against her hand until she was sure you were going to do as told. Then it sunk south between your bodies, easily finding your clit and she started to rub it in time with the thrusts of her hips, her nose nudged at your chin, tilting your head up and she kissed down your neck until she found your pulse point, making a home there.

“Fuck…” you whispered, your pussy fluttering around the toy, your hands clawing at her skin, trying to get her even closer to you than she was already. You bit your lip as pleasure coursed through you, a stifled moan breaking into the room as you shuddered in her arms and she finally let up on your clit, kissing back up the column of your neck.

“That’s it angel… so good for daddy.” She purred, her hips slowing until she sunk deep into you one last time, her hips meeting yours and you were finally able to open your eyes again.

“Christ…” you muttered with a small laugh, your leg dropping from her waist and she chuckled, a sturdy arm wrapping around you as her cock slipped from you and she guided you to the bed.

Emily took a minute to take the strap off, washing and drying it before tucking it back into her bag. She grabbed two bottles of water from the mini bar, swiping a couple mini cups of ice cream from the freezer along with spoons and crossed back to the bed. She noticed you’d flicked the tv on, finding a mindless channel to not fully pay attention to, passing you a bottle and the snack.

“Thanks.” You murmured, cracking the bottle and taking a few sips as she slipped under the sheets with you.

“You watch this crap when you’re at home?” She asked and you laughed.

“At home I have access to every streaming service known to man, hotel tv hits different. Late night choices are pretty limited between cartoons made for adults, fox news, or police procedurals and like I need more of that after what we do for a living.”

“Oh and they’re so inaccurate.” She groaned and you hmphed over a sip of water.

“Don’t even get me started. I dated a lawyer who for some reason actually liked a couple of them and yet she’d spend the entire fucking time calling out every single reason why the case would get thrown out. It was exhausting and pointless, felt like she was trying to tell me how to do my job through episode analysis.” You pulled the lid off the ice cream, digging in with the spoon for a mouthful.

“That why you break up?” Emily asked, a hint of a tease in her voice.

“No.” You huffed a laugh as you turned to her, “big surprise… she was controlling and thought I should give up my job and move with her to California, where she would be accepting a big promotion and I was expected to take a demotion down to LAPD computer crimes unit because according to her, I suck at my job.”

You turned your attention to the ice cream in front of you, digging into it with the spoon and Emily frowned, wondering how much of this ex’s opinion still haunted you to this day, hoping that wasn’t why you had the habit of overworking yourself. She raised her hand, brushing back a piece of your mussed up hair, smoothing it behind your ear and you glanced up at her, a curious expression written across your face.

“You know that’s not true, right?” Her voice was soft, her fingers lingering on your skin and you felt your cheeks flush, “I mean, not everyone’s cut out for the FBI, much less the BAU and you’ve held your own for years, and you’re the perfect fit for this team.”

“You’re just saying that cause you watched me kick in a door earlier today and practically came on the spot.” You replied with a wicked grin and she let out an offended scoff followed by a bark of laughter.

“Oh, okay. While you may be correct…. you’re deflecting!”

“I know I am good at my job.” You chuckled, letting in to the impulse to lean in and steal a quick kiss, “which is exactly why I broke up with her. Besides, she committed a brady violation and lost her licence, so… karma…”

You let out a soft sigh, glancing down to the ice cream when you realized it was finished,  dropping it to the bedside table and your eyes glazed over the clock, noticing how late it was. You slipped from underneath the sheets, moving through the room to clip your bra back on, pulling your panties up your legs.

“Where exactly do you think you’re going?” Emily asked with a chuckle and you huffed, tugging your pants on, doing a little hop to get them all the way up.

“Back to my room.” You searched around for a moment before scooping up your shirt, pulling it over your head. “Everyone’s got their own this trip, can’t risk Rossi doing an extra early wake up call to find me naked in your bed.”

“Well that’s a shame.” She smirked, “was kinda hoping for some morning sex.”

“Well…” you tugged your extra key card out of your pocket, tossing it down onto her bed, “if you’re up early enough you know where my room is.”

Emily picked up the card, flipping it through her fingers before glancing up at you, “such a wonderful place, Vegas….”

**

A week and a half later and the team found itself in Great Falls Montana.

There were plenty of reasons to look forward to hearing the phrase ‘wheels up’, to everyone on the team. It meant that you had a case that only the BAU could solve, that your specialty would be what closed it, that there was a reason you did what you chose to do. It meant that for the meantime, paperwork wasn’t the biggest priority of your work day. But every time Emily’s eyes would flick over to you lightning fast, watching the way your lips would curve up into a grin before vanishing and slipping back into work mode.

Because Vegas no longer had to be a physical place for the two of you, it was an unspoken way of mind.

If you were out of the DMV area, it meant you weren’t at home, you didn’t have to follow the rules. Sure, it didn’t make total sense, but it worked and neither of you were going to bring it up either way.

Great Falls meant sharing rooms in a smaller hotel and it just so happened that Emily landed with you as her bunk buddy again this trip. Obviously there was no need for the second bed, it was just for appearances at this point, Emily’s cock gliding into you from behind with ease as you did your best not to moan loudly, your fingers clutching at the bed spread.

“That’s my good girl…” She cooed, hands pulling your hips sharper to hers with each thrust until you were begging for more, wanting nothing but to see stars until the sun rose in the horizon.

**

The next case brought you to Maddock, North Dakota.

It wasn’t ideal, winter was in full force, every crime scene and investigation was outdoors, moving through streets and snowbanks as you attempted to discover who the unsub was. Everyone was huddled down in thick winter coats, hats and gloves, hating the fact that they could see their breath in the air with every word they spoke.

At the very least, you each had individual hotel rooms this time, meaning it was easier for you and Emily to sneak around, you’d already become masters of stealth in slipping the other your hotel room key card. So she wasn’t surprised when there was a tiny knock on her door followed by a beep and you slipped into her room, letting out a little shiver. She glanced up at you from the bed, a brow raised in your direction,

“Vegas?”

“Well..” you huffed, kicking off your shoes, “yes but also no. It’s fucking freezing in my room. I was kinda hoping yours would be better.” She frowned at the way you winced when you moved through the room, your hand shooting to your side.

“Ribs?” She asked softly, remembering the conversation you’d had back in Atlanta.

“Yeah.” You nodded, “couldn’t sleep last night cause I kept curling up to stay warm and that made it worse.”

“Well, c’mere.” She flipped open the duvet and you were quick to slip under it as she reached out to the toiletry bag on the bedside table, “extra strength?” She held the bottle out to you and you let out a happy sigh.

“You’re a godsend.” You downed a couple of pills, sipping at the water glass she’d given you before you nestled into her side.

“And your feet are fucking frozen!” She practically shrieked, attempting to shove you away from her.

“I told you it was cold!”

“Good thing I know a very good way to warm you up.” She murmured and the next thing you knew her lips were catching yours in a kiss and she was pinning you to the bed.

True to her word, the temperature was skyrocketing in her hotel room within minutes and she managed to make you come as many times as possible without getting you naked, working around your clothing, or only pulling off what was needed. When she was finally satisfied she wrapped herself around you, kicking up an extra blanket and letting you settle into the warmth of the shared body heat.

**

Glendale, Arizona.

There were just enough rooms that Emily was able to get her own private one this time. She was thankful, not only for whatever might happen, but that she would finally get a little bit of a break. The last couple of weeks she felt like she’d been constantly berated by questions from either the team or upper management. This way she could finish her expected work and retreat to being on her own.

Though that did not mean she was upset when she heard the beep of her hotel room lock, her eyes glancing toward it with a smirk and you basically toppled into her room, tearing off your shirt as the door fell shut behind you.

“Someone’s eager…” She teased.

“JJ’s facetiming Will, told her I was going for a run, I’ve got forty minutes max.”

You were naked by the time you’d reached her bed, your fingers tugging at her clothing until she was bare against you. There wasn’t even time for Emily to dig into her bag for the strap, hands and mouths were plenty tonight. You moved with expertise against each other, fingers sinking into warmth, curling and pumping with ease while mouths left sticky trails of kisses on the other’s skin. Moans and whimpers were the only sound in the room as you brought each other to their peak.

As much as you wanted to stay, wanted to go another infinite number of rounds, wanted to sleep curled in her embrace you knew you couldn’t. So you slipped from the covers, pulling on your clothes as you wished her goodnight and slipped from the room, hurrying back to your own, hoping you’d covered all your bases.

**

Miami.

Why did it have to be Florida?

Emily found herself groaning just from seeing the city’s name on the case file, but the moment the jet touched down she realized there definitely were some benefits to being in the sunshine state. Your usual business casual had been swapped out for more of a casual look, instantly pulling you hair up, keeping it off your neck and all she could focus on was wanting to trail her lips across that exposed skin. Instead of button ups you’d packed tank tops, a few with necklines daring to cross the line into inappropriate. She was on her way back from picking up dinner with JJ in time to catch you and Morgan returning from a run and just about had a conniption at the sight of you in just spandex shorts and a sports bra. You were somehow barely out of breath, your skin coated in a glimmer of sweat, the swell of your chest swaying as you laughed at something Derek said.  You could feel her eyes on you, knowing that you were driving her wild and went the extra mile to stretch out a couple of muscles while the four of your chatted outside the hotel.

You’d been back in your room long enough to cool down and take a luxurious shower, throwing on a pair of loose shorts and a satin tank to sleep in and all you could think about was Emily. You knew everyone had their own rooms this trip but this case seemed to be eating at everyone a little heavier than normal and you figured that might cut into your playtime. Instead it was twenty minutes later that you heard the lock beep in the door and Emily slipped into your room.

“Vegas?” You asked cautiously and she nodded.

“After that fucking show you put on, what do you think?”

“I was thinking I was gonna have to start sending you naughty photos to get in the mood.” You teased with a laugh and Emily froze in her tracks.

“Maybe I should go back to my room.” She smirked.

“I don’t think so.” You grabbed at her hand, pulling her to you and your lips met, a sigh of relief coming from both of you as hands began to roam.

She broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head right as your fingers snuck under the hem of her shirt, tickling up her sides until you’d pulled it off, tossing it to the floor. Her mouth immediately latched onto your chest, sucking and nipping at the tender skin, tongue flicking across your nipple and you gasped, one hand tangling into her hair while the other fumbled with her belt. When your hand managed to get into her pants you moaned at the feel of her already strapped up, fingers slipping under it to toy with her pussy. Her mouth popped off your chest and her hand closed around your wrist as she raised a brow in your direction.

“Ya know I almost feel like I should be punishing you tonight…”

“It’s not my fault the weather’s torturously hot here.”

“Kinda sounds like back talk princess.” She chuckled darkly and your eyes widened, your pussy fluttering around nothing, “are you giving me attitude?”

“No daddy.” You murmured back.

“Good.” Her fingers pinched gently at your chin, “now lie back so I can taste that pretty pussy of yours.”

You weren’t going to waste anymore time, collapsing back onto the bed while Emily tugged off your shorts, burying herself between your legs. Her mouth made home on your pussy, licking and sucking for as long as she could, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you until you were absolutely trembling, cunt seizing around her fingers, juices drenching your thighs and the bedspread. Finally she slipped her cock into you, deeply and slowly beginning to fuck you as your hands scrambled on her skin, aching to feel her against you, needing to feel her lips on yours while her cock pounded into you. She made you come another three times around her cock before she finally pulled out, tossing the toy to the side and cuddling around you under the sheets.

*

The team ended up in Miami for another week and a half and Emily swore she only saw the inside of her own hotel room when she had to change clothes. She was starting to wonder if there was even a point in booking her own anymore considering the two of you spent any spare personal moment tangled in each other’s limbs.

You’d done everything you could to identify the unsub, worked through past clues, delivered the profile, even gone as far as finding an actual name, a work and home address. You’d exhausted everything, everywhere you looked for this guy he was constantly a step ahead of you, but still contained in the state. Eventually, Emily got a call from the Section Chief saying they were pulling the team out, they were wasting their budget right now when there were more important cases elsewhere, the local pd would just have to keep tracking the guy until they could finally pinpoint a secure location and you could be in touch.

So you packed up your things and headed to the jet to take you back home. You had originally sat down with Spencer to keep going over things, the two of you had been deepest into the case and weren’t quite ready to give it up yet. It was only at take off when Rossi insisted the two of you put a rest to it that you finally agreed, the humming of the plane lulling you into a near dreamlike state and you realized just how exhausted you were. The work days had been very late nights and very early mornings, and the time in between was spent with Emily, you didn’t exactly get a lot of sleep while in Miami. You shivered, reaching up to turn off the air jet above you and Derek tossed you his hoodie, wrapped in that warmth, you were out like a light seconds later.

From the back of the jet Emily could practically see the bags under your eyes and felt a twinge of guilt over keeping you up even later than needed the past few days. Though it felt like that was the general consensus through the entire team, everyone was exhausted and left feeling a little defeated over not actually being able to solve the case, getting pulled out didn’t happen often.

JJ placed a cup of coffee down in front of Emily, taking the seat beside her.

“Thanks.” Emily cast her a warm smile, taking a sip and letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Figured you could use it.”

“Think everyone could.” She replied quietly, most of the rest of the team was already asleep or at least trying.

“You think Wilson took this one a little too hard?” JJ asked softly, looking in your direction and Emily glanced up, looking over at you, curled up around yourself in the seat, resting against the wall of the plane.

“She’s still new, it’s her first time getting pulled out, you remember how that feels.” She raised a brow and JJ nodded with a small laugh, “think she overworks a bit to make sure we know she’s good at her job, that she’s committed and won’t give up easily.”

“She is really good at her job; you know that right?”

“Of course!” Emily protested with another laugh, “she was the best fit for the position both on paper and in the field, miles above anyone else who applied.”

“Does she know you think that? Because I think deep down she really just needs your approval.”

“What’d’ you mean?” She raised an eyebrow in the direction of the blonde who let out a soft sigh.

“Not to overshare, but she’s an only child, dad really wanted a boy, they never really got along because of it, fought a lot until he booted her out on her own right as she graduated. He’s a sheriff down in Clearwater and wanted the typical manly man to follow in his footsteps. So she decided to go big and work her way up to the FBI, either show him up or attempt to make him proud.”

“I didn’t realize…” She glanced back up at you again.

“It’s not exactly like it’s a fun topic to bring up at parties.” JJ laughed, “and you guys have this like, weird complete opposite of teacher’s pet thing going on. You basically avoid each other completely in the office despite working flawlessly and wordlessly together in the field. It’s not like you have to be her best friend, or even like her, just give her a ‘good work’, buy her a coffee once in a while and she’ll be fine.”

“I—” Emily began to protest, scrambling to find the right words, “was just letting her get her feet under her, it’s a big transfer to the BAU.”

“And we’re supposed to give them a warm welcome.” JJ chuckled, squeezing at Emily’s knee, “don’t cold shoulder her out within her first year.”

“Even if I wanted to, she’s tougher than that.” She did her best not to stare, though you were asleep, and it made sense to be looking your way while talking about you. “besides, she’s getting along perfectly with the team, I can just be her boss for a little while longer until she’s fully settled in.”

“Hmm.” JJ replied over the rim of her coffee as she took a sip, glancing between the other members of the team. She knew you were fitting in, she just also knew Emily could definitely be a bit intimidating to people that either didn’t know her or were new, especially as a superior, even if she was the softest underneath all that. A few minutes of silence passed before Emily spoke again, her voice quiet under the noise of the jet.

“Her dad really kick her out?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You know why?”

“Nope.” JJ replied with a sigh, “she didn’t mention anything past that. Considering Clearwater I’m guessing teen pregnancy or a coming out gone wrong.”

“She doesn’t have any kids…”

“She is great with them though.” She replied, clapping the other woman on the arm, “thank you for hiring the best babysitter I’ve ever had.” JJ chuckled, standing from her seat, gesturing to Emily’s coffee cup, “you want a refill?” Em glanced at her watch,

“Yeah, may as well, it’s a short flight, not much time left to try and sleep.”

As the blonde disappeared Emily’s mind got to wandering, she hadn’t realized your game of keep away had worked a little too well. And it wasn’t like you weren’t allowed to be friends, you didn’t have to shy away from those kind of situations at work. JJ was right, you were still both relatively casual with each other when you weren’t in the DC area, but you’d put this boundary in that things couldn’t happen at home. It appeared neither of you had realized that it had extended outside your bedroom shenanigans.

So as JJ took her seat beside her and the plane started its decent, she made a mental note to be more open and friendly going forward, if you kept going with this whole hot and cold thing someone would likely pick up on things sooner rather than later and you both wanted to avoid that. She also made the mental note to make sure you weren’t taking any case files from Miami home with you, to remind you this was in local pd’s hands now, they’d call when they needed the assist. You already did splendid work, and more than enough of it, she’d make sure that you knew how appreciative and satisfied she was with the way you were doing your job.

In a completely and totally professional way of course.

Until another Vegas opportunity presented itself. Then all amounts of professionalism were off the table.

_____________

@ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @softgamerking @httpjupiterbby @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry  @mysticfalls01 @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @alcabots @7thavenger @ladysc @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @disneyfan624 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @gamma-ray-bursts @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx  @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess  @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @bluetodie @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part six] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, swearing, mentions of sex, simulated sex (18+ mdni), menstruation mentions

word count: 5.2k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!! ; i know minho is the chef of the group but just suspend your disbelief for this series and pretend it’s jisung

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

“Tickets are seventeen euros.”

You patted your back pocket instinctively in search of your wallet before remembering it was in the backpack Jisung was carrying.

“Nice try,” he said smugly and turned around so that you couldn’t reach the zipper. “You’re our guest on this trip, remember? Everything is already paid for.”

You didn’t need reminding. You knew you were tagging along for free- it had been one of the ways Jisung had convinced you to come, but you still felt guilty. It felt like you were taking advantage of the Hans, even if you were doing Jisung a favor.

You stuck your bottom lip out in a pout, catching the attention of Minho who chuckled at your pathetic little display.

“That’s cute, but our parents are both earth signs. Stubbornness runs in the family.”

You cocked your head at Minho in intrigue. “You know your parents’ zodiac signs?”

“Yeah, why?”

“No reason, I just think that’s interesting,” you hummed. “Out of curiosity, do you know your rising sign?”

“Scorpio. Why?”

You turned and gave Jisung a look. He nodded in confirmation and you both mouthed whore at each other. You turned back towards Minho and smiled fakely.

“Again, just curious.”

“Here are your tickets, kids,” Nikki announced from her spot at the ticket booth, ushering the four of you forward. “We’re giving you two hours to explore. You can go off by yourselves or stay together, but your father and I are going to start with the sculptures.”

“That’s their way of telling us they don’t want to hang out with us,” Felix whispered loudly.

Nikki gave her son a cold glare and shook her head at him. “Not funny.”

“I thought it was pretty funny,” he pushed.

“And you wonder why we don’t want to hang out with you guys,” Dom said pointedly.

All three of the boys groaned or rolled their eyes at their father and swiped a ticket from their mother. Your little group made their way over to the security line while Nikki and Dom split off in another direction.

“They’re already embarrassed to be seen with us,” Jisung scoffed.

“They’re just getting coffees,” Minho assured him, nodding in the direction of the café where they were standing in line.

“They never drink coffee,” Felix said, “so they are definitely embarrassed of us.”

“I would be too,” you sighed, already tired of them. It wasn’t even noon yet.

“Well you’re stuck with us.” Jisung smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Don’t remind me,” you groaned.

He dragged you by the hand behind his brothers to the back of the line, where you waited patiently to be admitted into the museum. They had you empty your pockets and place bags on a conveyor belt to be scanned like they did at the airport. Jisung explained that security had been upgraded in the past few years as France didn’t have very many… fans internationally.

“You colonize a few dozen countries and run their economies into the ground and suddenly you’re the bad guy,” you said sarcastically, earning a shush from Minho at the front of the line as he approached the security guard.

“How many are in your party?” the man asked.

“Four.”

He eyed your group in a bored sort of manner and motioned you forward one at a time through the metal detector. Once through, you followed Jisung and his brothers through the main hall and up an escalator into one of the galleries.

It wasn’t nearly as crowded as the lobby had been, and it was much quieter. Visitors meandered around the room in small groups or solo, admiring the paintings on the walls thoughtfully.

Minho and Felix moved further and further ahead of you and Jisung as you walked through the gallery. They were clearly less interested in the art than you were, but you didn’t mind. Jisung stuck by your side, but you knew he was only doing so to humor you. He didn’t care about some old fucking paintings and he didn’t give a fuck about the “pretentious white men” who painted them. You didn’t know much about art, aside from the one art history class you took your sophomore year, but you still enjoyed looking at the pretty pictures.

You had never had the opportunity to see history up close like this, and it captivated you. Each brush stroke was discernible, individual. You could reach out and touch the canvas if you wanted to, though you would certainly be kicked out on the spot.

Jisung hung back, a few paces behind you. You could feel his gaze on the back of your head, observing you observing the art. You tried not to linger too long in front of each painting, not wanting to lose Minho and Felix completely.

As you made your way through the gallery you noticed a woman with long black hair perched upon one of the velvet benches with a sketchpad in her hands. She was drawing a replica of the piece in front of her, a painting by Lorenzo Pasinelli titled Sainte Cecile chantant. You watched the woman with the sketchbook trace careful lines on her paper with a chunk of graphite. She etched the portrait quietly, leaning around onlookers who blocked her view. You were in awe of her. The way she effortlessly copied the painting onto paper, the way she was in her own little world, unbothered by the crowd around her.

“C’mon, baby,” Jisung urged gently with a nudge of his elbow. He waited until you were out of the woman’s earshot to mutter, “you were into her, weren’t you?”

You pushed him off of you in annoyance. “So what if I was?”

“I’m your boyfriend, remember?”

“I was just admiring her art,” you said defensively.

“Uh huh, you were admiring something all right.”

“I hate you.”

“Remember our list of rules?”

You rolled your eyes and dropped your voice to a whisper. “I wasn’t going to hook up with her. I doubt I even know enough French to ask her if she likes girls.”

“You did see her earrings, right? They were strawberries.”

“You’re not allowed to say things like that, okay?”

“It was just an observation!”

“A stereotypical one.”

“All I’m saying is she would’ve been into you, given the chance.”

“Do you want me to remain abstinent or not?” you huffed in frustration, “because you’re giving me mixed signals.”

Jisung shook his head, double stepping to catch up with you and grab your hand in his own. “Sorry, old wingman habits die hard I guess.”

You chuckled and let him lead you back behind his brothers despite your longing glances towards paintings you merely passed by. Minho and Felix were bickering about something when you rejoined them at the end of the hall, but you couldn’t be bothered to ask what. Jisung, on the other hand-

“What are you guys fighting about?”

Minho turned sharply on his heel to face his younger brother, causing the two of you to nearly crash into him. “We’re not fighting.”

“Okay, what are you guys talking about,” Jisung amended.

“Trying to decide where to go next.”

“And what are you debating between?” you asked.

“Minho says we should go see the Mona Lisa next since there’s always a line and we only have a couple hours here, but I think it’s a waste of time,” Felix explained. “The Mona Lisa is just an overrated painting that brings in tourists.”

“We are tourists,” Jisung pointed out to his twin.

“And y/n’s never seen it before, dumbass” Minho added. “It wouldn’t be fair to deprive her of that.”

“We don’t all have to go together,” you said hurriedly. “Your parents said we could break off into groups.”

The boys seemed to give your suggestion a moment of thought before Minho spoke up again. “Well I kind of want to see it too,” he admitted.

Felix rolled his eyes. “You could’ve just said that, idiot.”

-

The line for the Mona Lisa was long, as Felix had predicted, and you had to trek all the way back out into the lobby under the glass pyramid just to be admitted into the gallery it was held in.

“It feels like we’re in line for a rollercoaster,” you said offhandedly when it had been silent for a bit too long.

“Trust me, this is much less fun than a rollercoaster,” Felix grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t be a dick,” Jisung chided.

“I was just being honest.”

“Be a little less honest then.”

Silence fell over the group again and the four of you traded wary looks, shuffling forward when the queue moved every so often. It was still only ten a.m. and you felt like you needed a nap. You tried listening in on the conversations around you, but couldn’t understand any of them. The couple in front of you was speaking French much too fast for you to keep up with and the family behind you was joking in German.

Jisung nudged your shoulder gently and gave you a look that you understood immediately. You cleared your throat and took a minute to think while Jisung held up all ten of his fingers.

���Never have I ever missed an exam because I was hungover.”

“That’s targeting! That’s not fair!” Jisung protested.

“No it’s not! How am I supposed to know if you’ve ever done that?”

“Because I called you about it immediately when it happened.”

“Oops, must’ve forgotten,” you lied, trying to hide a smile.

“You wanna play like that? Fine, never have I ever blacked out on a first date.”

You narrowed your eyes at your fake boyfriend and begrudgingly put a finger down.

“What are you doing?” Felix asked suddenly, leaning over to watch.

“Playing Never Have I Ever. We play whenever we have time to kill,” Jisung said.

“Wanna join?” you offered. Minho and Felix shrugged and held up their hands. “Okay, but we’re starting over to make it fair.”

“And this time no targeting,” your best friend sneered, glaring at you.

You held up your hands innocently. “I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

“Go ahead, babe, you start,” Jisung prompted you, winking.

You knew you had to tread carefully in front of Jisung’s brothers so you started with an easy one. “Um, never have I ever been in a fight.”

You looked around the circle expectantly, but the only one who put a finger down was Minho.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “Really? When have you been in a fight?”

“He’s probably lost count by now,” Jisung whispered not so quietly.

“It was only a couple!” Minho said defensively. “Anyway, never have I ever been to college.”

“I think that counts as targeting, but whatever,” you muttered to yourself as you and Jisung put a finger down simultaneously.

Jisung took his turn next. “Never have I ever flirted with someone to get something for free.”

You and Minho both sheepishly put a finger down while Felix shook his head in judgment. He was the only one with all of his fingers still up. You, on the other hand, were tied with Minho for the most fingers down.

Felix took a second to think about it before taking his turn. “Never have I ever had a threesome.”

You pursed your lips and lowered a finger while Jisung’s brothers looked at you in shock. They both turned back to see if Jisung had put a finger down too, but he hadn’t, leaving them to draw their own conclusions.

“It was before we started dating,” you supplied, not offering any other details. Your fake boyfriend’s brothers didn’t need to know that you had actually had more than one, and that the last one had been just three months ago, or that it was at a sorority party. You were in deep enough as it was.

The game stopped there as you were finally let into the gallery where the Mona Lisa was on display. There were a couple more rows of the queue to get through, but it appeared to be moving fast. The security guards were urging the crowd along, scolding anyone who lingered in front of the painting for longer than a couple of seconds.

You tried peering over the heads of the people in front of you, but they were too tall. You were forced to wait patiently for your turn to see her like everyone else. The pathway widened a little when you got to the front, allowing for more people to pass in front of the glass case and take pictures. You pushed your way to the front of the little section and pressed yourself against the metal bar to get a good look.

You didn’t want to admit it, but Felix was right. The Mona Lisa was overrated. And tiny. The painting was beautiful, that much was true, but you knew the only reason it was hailed as a masterpiece was because it had been stolen over a hundred years ago and then miraculously recovered. You still remembered that bit of trivia from Art History 101. Your professor would be proud.

You leaned closer and snapped a picture with your phone to commemorate the experience. You had seen it, the most famous painting in the world, with your own two eyes and now you could mark it off your bucket list.

“Keep moving!”

You jerked your head in the direction of the voice and locked eyes with a security guard who gestured for you to get out of the way. He had probably already yelled at you in French and when you didn’t realize the order was directed at you assumed you were an ignorant American- which you were, but you were still offended.

You turned around to look for Jisung, but he wasn’t behind you. In fact, none of the Hans were. You double-checked and then triple-checked, but they were nowhere to be seen. Maybe they were waiting for you at the end of the line…

But when you made your way to the end, they weren’t there either. You tried not to panic, they had to be somewhere close by- they wouldn’t just leave you, right? It wasn’t like you could call Jisung either because your data plan still wouldn’t be activated for a few more hours. A brief search of the gallery turned up nothing. They were gone.

Now you were beginning to panic. You hadn’t discussed a meeting place if one of you were to get lost. Even if you had, you wouldn’t know how to get there. The palace was fucking huge, and Jisung was the one with the map.

You followed the flow of traffic through the big arched doorway at the other end of the hall that led into yet another gallery with plum-colored walls. You were breaking the number one rule of being lost, which was to stay where you were, but you were feeling desperate. You felt like it was your fault you got separated from the group so you needed to be the one to find them. The paintings and artworks on the wall were a blur, you barely paid attention to them as you searched the exhibit.

On the verge of tears, you trailed behind a group of visitors down one of the main staircases, watery eyes frantically searching the crowd until you recognized a familiar face staring back. Minho was standing on the staircase opposite to you, frozen in place, eyes wide in relief.

Immediately he began pushing through the mass of people, fighting against the tide to get to you. You did the same and met him halfway where he crushed you into a hug.

“Oh my god, what the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded, arms still around you.

You stiffened in his embrace, unsure of what to do. Do you hug him back? Do you push him off? You didn’t know. You decided to settle for what you hoped was a middle ground.

“Are you happy to see me or not?” you asked, getting mixed signals from a Han for the second time that day.

Minho let go of you finally and cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m happy!” he assured you, “just don’t do that again, okay?”

You nodded in agreement. “Okay.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“C’mon, let’s go find the twins. They were looking for you in the atrium.”

You walked alongside Minho in silence as you navigated the winding halls of the Louvre together. You wouldn’t let him go ahead of you. You were too afraid to lose him again.

“How long have you and Jisung been dating again?” he asked suddenly.

“Since November,” you answered automatically. “So a little less than a year. Why?”

He shrugged. “I was just curious. I know you guys were best friends before and it just makes me wonder how much changed after that transition.”

“What do you mean?”

Minho paused to gather his thoughts like he was choosing his words carefully. “Just that, you guys still seem like best friends, you know? Like you’re best friends first, in a relationship second. It’s really nice.”

You expected a ‘but’, you could practically hear it dangling from his lips- he stopped there, letting whatever he had been about to say dissipate in the space between you.

Your mind began to race. Did he suspect your little act? Was he unconvinced or did he know something? You needed to get back to Jisung.

Luckily when you turned the corner the stairway opened into a large room that you guessed to be the atrium. It was mostly empty, save for a few large marble statues and planters commanding the attention of all the nearby patrons. A sectioned glass roof hung overhead, bathing the room in natural light.

Jisung was standing a few meters away next to Felix with his hands in his pockets. You were running towards him before he even saw you. You grabbed him by the shoulders and threw yourself into him. He stumbled, but caught you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You didn’t let him get the chance to speak before you were kissing him. It was more passionate than usual, more than just a peck on the lips. You didn’t know if it was because you were so relieved to see him, or if you were trying to prove something to Minho.

He broke away and gave you a quizzical look.

“We need to have sex,” you whispered.

“What?” he hissed back, looking at you like you were crazy.

“Not for real- we just need to make them think we’re having sex,” you explained. Jisung followed your gaze over to his brothers. Felix had joined Minho by the entrance where they were now deep in discussion. “Minho isn’t convinced.”

Jisung nodded at you like it was decided and took a deep breath. “So, how are we going to do this?”

-

“What exactly did Minho say?”

You looked up from where you had been pacing in front of the bed. “What?” 

“What did Minho say? About us.” 

“He said it seems like we’re still best friends.”

“We are best friends.”

“But he said it like, we’re best friends first, dating second. And he said he wonders how much changed about our relationship after we started dating.”

“What did you tell him?” 

“Nothing, it was more like he was talking to himself. He asked me when we started dating and then mentioned it offhandedly.”

Jisung rubbed his hands on his jeans nervously and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Why does he care?”

You shrugged and sat down next to him. “I don’t know. Maybe he was just trying to be a protective big brother?”

“Well he needs to mind his own business,” Jisung muttered. 

“C’mon, Ji give him a break! He’s trying to save you from getting your heart broken by an immoral, scheming harlot like me.”

Your best friend gave you an unimpressed look. “A harlot? Since when do you have the vocabulary of a fifteenth-century pirate?”

“Just thought I’d spice things up.”

“Promise me you won’t use it when we have pretend-sex in a couple of minutes?”

You frowned. “You mean you don’t want me to call you ‘matey’ in bed?”

“Absolutely not. Us fucking is already weird enough.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing out on,” you insisted. “Anyway, Minho was probably just looking out for you.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said doubtfully. 

“What do you mean?” you asked. 

“Nothing,” Jisung brushed it off with an abrupt subject change. “Now about us having sex… what’s the plan?”

“We just… do what they did in Easy A. Hotel walls are thin, right? They’ll be able to hear us.”

“You really think that’ll work?”

“It’s the best I’ve got.”

Jisung sighed and ran a hand through his hair, further emphasizing his disheveled appearance. You put your hand over his and laced your fingers together. 

“Should we start like… now?” Jisung asked, checking his watch.

“Maybe wait a few minutes?” you suggested. “It’s kind of early. We could start at eleven.”

“Wouldn’t they think it’s weird that we’re having sex at eleven on the dot?”

“Fine then, eleven oh two.”

“I’ll pencil it in,” Jisung joked, causing you to yank your hand out of his in disdain. 

While you waited for the scheduled time to roll around you got ready for bed. You showered the day off, letting the hot water ease some of the tension from your sore muscles. You knew you’d be worse off in the morning, but you hoped that a steamy shower would at least help a little. Jisung showered next as you slipped into pajamas and went through your nightly routine. You were never very good at remembering to moisturize, or do any skincare for that matter, but you were determined to make it a habit by the end of the summer. 

You scrolled through your phone anxiously while you waited for Jisung to get out of the shower. You didn’t know why you were so nervous, this wasn’t even the most intimate thing you’d done together. You’ve kissed dozens of times before by now- you’d watched porn together for christ’s sake. Why was this the breaking point?

The couple glasses of wine you’d had at dinner to hype yourself up for tonight were starting to wear off. The pleasant buzz was gradually fading and being replaced by sober realization. Jisung’s brothers weren’t your only neighbors. Other guests were staying on the opposite side of you as well. They would surely hear you if you were going to be loud enough for Minho and Felix to hear you- was it even worth it? To put some poor strangers through your improv act? No, you were already too far in. You had made your bed, now you had to lie in it. Literally. 

Jisung emerged from the bathroom with a towel in his hand, using it to shake his curls dry. He’d changed into his version of pajamas- a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and grinned when he saw you were wearing pretty much the same thing. 

“Ready?” he asked, tossing the towel to the side.

“Wait, Jisung, I just realized-”

“What is it?”

“I’m still on my period.”

“So?”

You blinked. “So… it wouldn’t make sense to have sex?”

“Why not?”

“Because it would make a big mess!”

“I’m still not seeing an issue,” Jisung said matter-of-factly. “Have you never had period sex before?”

“Have you?” you countered. 

“Yeah, you haven’t?”

You shook your head. “No, none of the guys I’ve been with were down for it. And I was too nervous to ask the girls.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you only date losers,” he quipped with a smirk. 

“Need I remind you who I’m pretend-dating right now?” 

Jisung pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at you. “I doubt Minho even remembers you’re on your period,” he pointed out. “And if he does he won’t think anything of it. Period sex is normal.”

“Fine, okay. What time is it?”

“Eleven-oh-four.”

“Shit, we better get started then.”

Jisung just nodded and joined you on the bed. He kneeled in front of the headboard and wrapped a hand around the frame. You looked to your best friend for the go-ahead and winked when he gave you the thumbs-up. 

You cleared your throat awkwardly, suddenly aware of the echo in the otherwise silent room. You weren’t even naked, but you felt so exposed. For someone who prided themselves on being so sexually expressive you were choking. But Jisung was looking at you expectantly and the clock was ticking so you mustered up what little courage you had and let out a soft moan. 

“Louder,” Jisung urged. 

You shot him a dirty look but did as he instructed, raising your voice an octave. Jisung grinned in approval and gestured with his hand, encouraging you to continue. 

“Why don’t you have a turn?” you demanded. “Making your girlfriend do all the work? That’s not very gentleman-like.”

“In my head, this is just foreplay, so I’m like fingering you or something. We’re not actually having sex yet.”

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize our porno had a narrative,” you hissed.

Jisung rolled his eyes at you. “Just keep moaning.”

“Ji,” you whined loudly, unmoving on the bed where you were flipping him off. “Fuck, Jisung! Feels so good!”

“Yeah, baby?” he asked, finally breaking his silence. 

“So good,” you repeated breathily. 

Jisung released his hold on the headboard so that it could start to knock against the wall you shared with his brothers as you both rocked your hips to simulate the pace of sex. 

“Fuck,” Jisung grunted and you’d be lying if you said your stomach didn’t twist at that. 

You supposed this was the part in the storyline where you were actually having sex, so you tried to make yourself sound as needy and desperate as possible. 

“God, Jisung, don’t stop!”

Jisung rammed the bed frame against the wall even harder and groaned your name, clapping a hand to his thigh to make it sound like he was slapping your ass. You continued to beg and plead for a few more minutes before you both decided to kick it up a notch. Jisung put a hand around his throat, motioning for you to act like you were being choked. 

How did he know you liked to be choked?

Lucky guess.

You took his suggestion and closed a hand around your throat to muffle your moans. You were out of breath, for real now, from all of the flailing around and jumping and choking yourself that you were just about ready to wrap it up.

“Should we cum now?” you whispered.

“How long has it been?”

“I dunno, like five minutes?”

“You think I’d only last five minutes?” Jisung accused.

“I think five minutes is being generous,” you scoffed. 

“Fine, but you first.”

You sighed tiredly and prepared yourself for the crescendo. You stretched your arms above your head and moaned in relief as your muscles tensed and relaxed, arching your back off the bed dramatically. 

“Fuck, Ji. Right there right there right there,” you cried, loud enough for the whole fucking city of Paris to hear you. “Yes, yes, yes!” 

“You look so fucking hot like this, y/n,” Jisung praised, catching you by surprise. 

You whipped your head over to stare at him, but he wasn’t even looking at you. He was scrolling through Twitter with one hand while rocking the headboard back and forth with the other. 

You rolled your eyes at his multitasking and continued moaning obnoxiously like an amateur pornstar. You “finished” first with another string of curses and Jisung’s name and he followed shortly behind you, voice wavering as he slowed the motion of the bed. 

Jisung flopped back on the bed next to you wordlessly. You were both still catching your breath and processing everything that had happened. You pressed your fingers to the pulsepoint on your neck and began to count. Out of all the walking you already did today, faking sex with Jisung was the most cardio-heavy by far. 

“I think that was my best performance ever,” you said proudly once your lungs didn’t feel like they were burning from the inside out. 

“What are you comparing it to?” Jisung asked, turning his head to look at you properly. 

“My third grade VBS concert, my entire high school theater experience, telling customers it was a pleasure to serve them, faking orgasms with frat guys, do you need me to keep going?” 

He chuckled. “You were an excellent co-star.”

“You weren’t too bad yourself. Do you think they’ll buy it?”

“Definitely, but if you want to seal the deal I might have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“I give you a hickey.”

You bolted upright. “Are you serious?”

“Not an obvious one, it’ll be easy to hide.” 

“Then what’s the point of having it in the first place?”

Jisung shrugged. “You cover it with makeup in the morning, but not so much that it’ll wear off later in the day when my parents aren’t around. If Minho is really as nosy as we think, he’ll definitely notice it and stop asking questions.”

“You don’t think it’ll just lead to more questions? Who’s to say he’s going to be looking at my neck anyway?”

“Oh he will be,” Jisung said confidently. 

“How do you know?”

“I just do.” 

“Fine, fuck it,” you groaned, giving in. “Go easy, though, okay?”

Your best friend smirked. “No promises.”

You pushed down your shirt to expose more of your neck and shoulders and scooted closer to him on the bed. You rolled your head to the side to give him easy access. He brushed your hair out of the way and leaned down so that he was just inches away from your collarbone. His breath tickled your skin as he hovered above you, deciding where to mark you. You flinched when you felt his teeth sink into the tender skin just below your jaw. You held back a yelp and tried to relax, but the sheer absurdity of it all was getting to you. And it tickled. Jisung licked the spot he had just bitten and then began to suck on it, eliciting a sheer squeal from you. 

“Shh!” He had broken away to scold you. 

“You know I’m ticklish!” you argued back defensively. 

“Try to stay still.”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

Jisung placed a hand on each of your shoulders to hold you down as he went back to work. By the time he was finished your neck was sore from holding it in an uncomfortable position for so long and your left hand had fallen asleep. 

“There,” he said finally, satisfaction clear on his face. 

You got up to go look in the mirror in front of the bathroom to evaluate his artistry. Right on your neck in plain view was a fresh bruise, blooming purple underneath your skin. 

“Jisung, this is huge!” you complained. 

“It’ll go down in the morning!” he insisted. 

“I know how hickeys work, genius. It’s still fucking giant.”

“It’s not as bad as you think it is, okay? Now come on, let’s go to bed.”

iou tags: @sluttywoozi @gimmeurtmi @phobia0325 @fwess @hipsdofafangirl @galaxleeknow @urmomma0324 @bangmechanpls @102598s @farfromsugafanfic @ritzy-roo @dimpledsatan @bvselines @wonderfulshinee @imwithurmother @smollquokka @rosexjimin @skizzel @endzii23 @lady-lena @kwanisms @ch4nniebang @lilramennoodle @babyphotos0325 @dearalice @sojohns @mistlitmoonlight @yoontaethings @babebatter @mal-lunar-28 @shy-kisu @zerefdragn33l @downbadreading @sana-within-you @saquso @bunnispaces @reianagarcia @hyunehans @imtoooyoungforthisshit @i8rsie @honeslykindahorny @214racha @hgema @chillllllli @vixensss @smhlino @feiyaa @borahae-reads @bigbearenergy @hoodiesandicedcoffee @darkacademic2512 @y00nzin0 @i8yul @shinypieceofgarbage @woozarts @just-a-little-delulu @djeniryuu

add yourself to the taglist here!!

[valentinoappreciator]

Gender neutral reader worshiping Valentino’s feet 🦶 ✌️

You get called to Valentino’s place, wearing the fur coat he gifted you a year ago, and nothing else.

He grins widely at the sight, lounging obscenely in his massive couch.

He’s puffing on a cigarette.

His red, obscured eyes follow you as you move towards the couch, on the way hanging the coat, but he stops you from joining him on the red leather.

“No, baby,” he purrs, and nudges you with a boot.

It’s sharp, shiny, and black as night.

The nudge makes you inhale sharply; what does he want from you this time, you wonder…

“Tonight, I have a very special job for you. You’re going to worship me like the Overlord I am. And you will like it. Got that, babydoll?”

You hate the way you shudder, but, knowing that Valentino isn’t a guy to be trifled with, you nod in agreement.

“Yes, daddy.”

He grins at you, blowing red smoke in your face. It gets you embarrassingly hot and bothered.

“I think,” he drawls, spreading his legs obscenely wide, “that you start with my boots. Don’t you agree?”

Why does that make you salivate? And already! That’s so humiliating…

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper again, stroking his legs slowly while you slide between them and sink to your knees.

You try to lick at his cock - hidden behind a skimpy thong that doesn’t really hide anything - but receive a sharp slap to your cheek for your insolence.

“Did I say you could do that?” he growls, yanking your head back by your hair, no doubt relishing the yelp of pain.

“No, daddy,” you mumble.

“That’s right, I didn’t. So how about we try again, hmm? My. Feet. If you please.”

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you sink lower, and lower still, so you can unzip his ungodly long boots and gently peel them off of him.

His deep, dark chuckle rings in your ears as you cradle one ankle in your hands and bring his foot closer to your face.

The first thing you notice is that it doesn’t reek; he probably showered not too long ago; a person of his esteemed status couldn’t go long without showers and baths, after all.

Hesitantly - despite being his favorite girl, you have never licked feet before! - you kiss the bridge of his foot; tender and soft; you let your velvety lips slide over his purple skin, pressing them slightly firmer against the flesh here and there.

Looking up at him, his face doesn’t reveal if you’re doing a good job or not; he’s simply grinning, as he always does.

“With tongue, baby.”

You mewl quietly, sticking out your tongue to pass it over the bridge and each toe; it doesn’t taste bad, as you had expected it would.

No, in fact, it’s almost… pleasant.

You close your eyes and swipe your tongue over each of his toes; occasionally, you suck one deeper into your mouth, just to toy with him.

But, the thing is, even if you do your best to tease and rile him up, it doesn’t seem to get him anywhere.

So, you double down on your efforts to get him hard; you moan and suck and lick and kiss.

His toes, the arch, the instep, the heel; you work your magic on the entirety of his foot, and yet there’s nothing.

“I had no idea you’d be so excited for a chance to worship my feet, baby,” he purrs and flexes his foot so you have better access to his sole.

He merely giggles, as if this tickles.

“I think I’ll have you on foot fetish duty for your next movie,” he continues, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

A pathetic whine escapes you: the thought was downright vile! You didn’t like feet! It was only because it was Valentino…

Suddenly, thin but strong wisps of red smoke wrap around your neck, and a sharp tug makes you look up with a yelp.

“Look at and listen to me, whore,” he purrs, and his eyes glisten with malice, with mischief.

You nod, swallowing heavily.

“As well as you’re doing, I think it’s time you acknowledge that you won’t get me hard from this pathetic display. Just admit it, baby.”

“But daddy!” you whine, clutching at his ankle with both your hands, “I thought you wanted this!”

His grin widens, growing menacing.

“Well, maybe you just don’t have what it takes, honey,” he says with a shrug, puffing on the cigarette.

You whine again.

“There’s no shame in that.”

He knows; he knows you want nothing more than turning him on so he can fuck you good and hard and rough.

“But, you seem to be unbearably into it, so I’ll let you continue.”

You don’t miss a beat; “thank you, daddy…”

He strokes your head.

“Good girl.”

[mutable-manifestation]

The Ghost King (of Miscommunication) Ch. 24

Part 1-12,Part 13,Part 14,Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23

Part 24!

Me, trying to write the DC characters in-character and desperately trying to sort through the various timeline changes to get a rough idea of how they should/would behave, in patrick star voice: WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE!?

Anyway, this took forever but here it is.

***

Deadman is really feeling his namesake not five minutes into Batman grilling him for details on the Realms.

The guy sure can glare.

‘I don’t know what the majority of the place looks like because I never left Rama’s side when I was there’ is apparently unhelpful, but he can offer them what he read about it - an endless expanse dotted with doors and islands and other small structures.

“Doors are always lairs - ghost homes, basically - if they’re floating alone, but the ones on islands can be normal doors - mostly. You can kind of get a feel for which are which. Islands vary from lairs to wilds, but you can’t really tell based on appearance since a ghost might just want a jungle lair. Our best bet is to just not open any doors or land on any islands.”

“If everything is floating, is it like space? I mean, is there even any air in there?” Flash asks, brow raised.

“Yeah kind of! And no, everything is made of ectoplasm.”

“You said it was human-safe,” Robin glares.

“It is!” Deadman smiles guilelessly.

“How are we meant to breathe if everything is made of this ‘ectoplasm’?”

Apparently ‘You just do’ isn’t a very reassuring answer.

He throws his hands up at the collective bat-glares.

“Hey, hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I dunno what to tell ya here. Humans have ventured into the Zone before and they were breathing just fine. Went back to the land of the living in one piece with no problems. I’m no scientist, I can’t begin to tell ya the hows or the whys of it, but I guarantee you can all breathe just fine in there. Double-cross my core and everything. If it’ll make you feel better you can always bring air tanks or somethin.”

“Right,” Signal sighs, “We’ll figure something out. If we need to fly to traverse the place we’re probably better off taking the jet anyway, assuming you can make a big enough portal?”

“Uh,” Deadman stares at him, wide-eyed. “Who can make a what-now?”

“A portal,” Red Robin interjects. “If they’re required for you to access your home realm there’s no way you don’t know how to make them. How else would you have gotten to the ‘Zone’ originally to ‘not leave Rama’s side’?"

“Yeah, no,” he crosses his arms in an X for emphasis. “Portal powers are rare. Like, rare-rare, even in - maybe even especially in - the Realms. Rama can communicate through the veil with little effort, but even she had to use a complex ritual to summon me to her side and later send me back.”

“And yet the wolf just tore one open with a swipe of his hand,” Red Robin notes.

“Yeah, because he’s Wulf - it’s his name, by the by. With a ‘u.’”

“You know him?” Batman demands, leaning forward even more attentively.

“I know of him. I’m pretty sure no ghost doesn’t, what with how he’s the right hand of the High King of the Infinite Realms and all.”

“‘High King of the Infinite Realms?’” Constantine pipes up, voice high and strained.

“Yep,” Deadman pops the ‘p.’ “High King of the Infinite Realms, King of the Dead, or just ‘The Ghost King.’ He’s the guy that has the final say on everything in the realms. Like, if Hades and Anubis get into a fight, he’s the one to break it up, that kinda thing.”

There’s a long silence at that.

“But there’s no need to worry!” Deadman hastens to amend when the quiet stretches worryingly long. “The current king is a nice guy! He’s hailed as a hero for defeating the old tyrant king, Pariah Dark after he escaped the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. And he’s been making a lot of positive reforms ever since he took the throne! Look on the bright side! At least you know your guy is getting the comfy treatment!”

“This entire mission hinges on us having access to the Infinite Realms,” Batman states, ignoring Deadman’s attempt at positivity and the implications of his son apparently being taken in by ghost royalty. “Do you think the ritual that was used for you to cross over would work for this?”

“I doubt it. It wasn’t a portal, I was literally just. Summoned. Here one moment, there the next, no tears in space involved.”

“Lucky us,” Oracle pipes up from where she’d been typing away since Wulf first swept Jason away, “We might have another option. I’ve got a few hits on ‘ectoplasm’ in the system. Old files - like, really old - and three of them mention portals.”

Tentative relief floods the room at a solution presenting itself nearly the moment the problem crops up.

“Two locations,” she continues, putting a picture of an…eccentric building on the display. “The first is a ghost-themed gift shop-slash-museum in a small town in Illinois. Records show the previous owners to be self-proclaimed ghost hunters with what the shop’s website calls a ‘full armory of ecto-weapons, sensors, and defensive tools.’ Apparently they sell replicas, keep the originals for the museum display. The portal has since shut down but the new owners have kept everything well-preserved and documented, despite passing it all off as a heavily-themed tourist trap.”

“A promising lead if the tech is truly functional,” Batman muses. “And the second?”

“An abandoned mansion in the middle of Wisconsin. Apparently the owner went missing but has automatic pay set up for taxes and things to remain ready for his return ‘in perpetuity’ - at least, until the money runs out - even in the event of his untimely death. Some financial consultant manages the whole thing, and has ever since he picked up where his father left off around 50 years ago.”

She takes a second to replace the eccentric building with two more images - a grand castle and a lab straight out of a mad science cartoon.

Or a very thematically dedicated rouge.

“Some housekeeping staff reported odd stuff in the basement, and a now-defunct government branch called the Ghost Investigation Ward - which was only functional for 3 years - came in and classified a lot of the stuff as ‘ecto-tech’ and even documented the presence of a ‘ghost-portal.’ They were going to claim the ecto-tech for research, but the Ward was shut down before the project could get any further. If it works like the paperwork claims, we may just have our way in.”

“If they were finding working portals to the afterlife then why was the Ward shut down?” Red Robin asks, disbelief scrawled across the visible parts of his face.

“A lot of things. Trespassing, destruction of property, entry without a warrant, false imprisonment, use of untested weapons, reckless endangerment, child endangerment, loitering, littering, stalking, harassment, emotional and psychological distress, assault… the list drags on. Apparently they were more lucky than competent, stepped on a lot of toes. Then they left some kind of weapon lying around and it ended up killing two kids. The parents and community as a whole had enough at that point - most of their work was in a single location, specifically the town with the museum portal - and came at them with every charge that they had any evidence for. Which was almost all of them.”

“Ah, so we might have a portal to literal hell or two just lying around in the middles of nowhere, America. And at least one of them is probably booby-trapped with a few deadly weapons,” Constantine snips. “Perfect.”

“It’s not hell, Constantine, it’s the afterlife as a whole,” Deadman corrects.

Constantine does not look soothed.

“The castle first,” Batman decides. “The sooner we get to Red Hood back, the better. Red Robin, get in touch with the consultant. Oracle, get a list of all the ecto-tech the Illinois location claims to have and what it can do. Flash, given your reaction to the portal earlier do you believe it would be better for you to remain behind?”

Flash flinches.

“I…just being near it was…horrifying. Going through it…I don’t know if I can. If the other side all feels that way….” He shudders. “I think I’d be better off guarding the portal from this side of things.”

“Right,” Batman agrees before turning back to Constantine. “What can we do to prevent a repeat of the earlier possession while we’re in there.”

Constantine’s right eye twitches, but he barely has a chance to open his mouth when Deadman answers for him.

“Oh, there’s no need to worry about that!”

Constantine slams a hand on the table as he stands.

“Like bloody hell there’s no need! If we go in there without preparation we’re all liable to end up short a ‘self’ to control!”

“You’re still thinkin in terms’a this side of things, Constantine. Things don’t work like that in the Zone.”

“What, so humans are just suddenly immune to being possessed so long as they’re surrounded by ghosts?” He tosses his arms in the air disbelievingly.

“No, I mean a living being in the Zone can choose to be outta step with it. Kinda like how stronger ghosts can choose to be outta step with this side to phase through things, or how I’m outta step by default. Living beings aren’t from the Zone so if you kinda focus on that lack of hold, nothing in the Zone can affect you - including possession. It’s why the new king kept some of the restrictions on bringing real-world items into the Zone - usually it requires a level of sentience, but without special care even generally inanimate objects could end up as untouchable debris somewhere. They can still follow you back to the human realm to hurt you, though, so I’d highly recommend avoiding inciting any grudges while we’re in there,” he tags on hastily.

“‘Generally inanimate?’” Batman asks.

“Eh, ecto does whacky things to real-world items sometimes,” Deadman shrugs. “It takes, like, at least a decade usually, but they can sort of gain just enough awareness to not want to be touched - like a flower fleeing shadows to chase the sun.”

“Poetic.”

“Eh, just trying to distinguish from, like, bugs and animals and stuff.”

“Right. We’ll have to run some tests from this side of the portal first. Given the involvement of this ‘High King’ I’d say this is an all-hands situation.”

“Given the way my powers work,” Shazam speaks up, “this High King is apparently my powers’ sources’ boss, I definitely want to be there.”

“Indeed,” Aquaman adds. “As a fellow King it is important to establish diplomatic retort. While the lead-up to this meeting is somewhat unfortunate, we can hope the conclusion will be as peaceful as Deadman believes and work towards that very outcome.”

Green Lantern and Wonder Woman nod their agreement.

“Then I will remain here, to look after the Earth in your absence,” Martian Manhunter says.

“I’ll let Guy and John know to contact you if anything comes up, then,” Hal nods.

With that, Batman stands.

“Let’s move.”

---------------------

Kevin Bordair - the estate manager for the departed Vlad Masters - was more than happy to have them explore the lab.

He had been very hands-off with the lab, as his father had instructed, but that lack of information on what might be festering down there….

When he’d looked over the more publicly available Fenton documents he’d discovered that it was…inadvisable to leave most of the materials in an ecto-lab to fester. Without proper filtration for so long there could be explosive results if anything turned on.

No one he’d contacted had wanted to enter the place.

His only saving grace was that the weapons were largely dormant and the portal had mysteriously shut down on its own some 20 years before he took over.

The lab itself didn’t have anything in the way of instructions - presumably the previous owner kept them all digital, but no one wanted to risk turning on the computer without a guarantee that it wouldn’t blow up.

Luckily, Bordair was eager for the potential to have them deal with the mess and had brought print-outs of the Fenton documents - including blueprints for the weapons and the portal that hadn’t been available digitally.

Most of the writing on them was practically chicken scratch, but between Oracle and Red Robin’s technical expertise they were able to work out a proper filtration method.

Five hours later, they had just enough clean ectoplasm to start up the portal and power a few of the net devices they’d found lying around. The rest was too decayed to use and none of the notes explained how to extract or synthesize more - the Illinois location’s documents stated that all of its ecto had been ‘properly disposed of’ decades ago.

The portal whirred up surprisingly quietly, green blooming to life with no more noise than the gentle hum of a refrigerator.

A portal to the afterlife, torn open with less effort than it took to put the Riddler back in Arkham after an escape.

Superman was the first to venture in - to test the atmosphere for the more squishy members of their groups, as well as the comms.

He reappeared not 10 seconds after he entered.

“Deadman was right, empty space all around. We’ll need to expand the portal to fit the batplane or pair off into flight-capable teams. No trouble breathing - felt just like an in-Earth atmosphere to me - but there’s nothing on the comms on my end.”

“I could just get us all some ghost phones?” Deadman offers, drawing all eyes to him.

“That’s a thing?” Constantine asks incredulously.

“Yeah! The Ghost King 2: Electric Boogaloo ma-”

“I’m SORRY? Ghost King 2???” Constantine interrupts, standing from his slouch against the only non-weapon-covered wall.

“There’s more than one ghost king?” Batman demands.

“Well, yeah? There’s only one High King, of course, but he’s got two spouses - his wife The Ghost Queen and his husband. Apparently the observants wanted him to have the standard ‘Prince Consort’ title, but the High King and the Queen were not having it because it sounded belittling or like he was less important? Something like that. The point is that none of them liked it, So King 2 decided if they wanted him to have a title that differentiated him from the High King he’d title himself Ghost King 2: Electric Boogaloo.”

Deadman leans forward gleefully, “Rumor has it that the only reason the title was approved - without the High King having to force it through - is because the Queen & High King couldn’t stop laughing whenever the observants said the title to try and contest it, which just made the big O’s angrier and angrier until they just ended up signing the approval to get them to leave.

Anyway, King 2 is all about tech stuff and he - alongside his right hand, Technus - is responsible for adapting modern technology to work throughout the greater zone. Fully functional stuff with all the bells and whistles are pretty limited, but simple headsets for vocal chat are pretty easy to get.”

“…Can you guarantee that we won’t just phase through them,” Batman asks.

“Nah,” he answers, waving a hand carelessly, “The old models are made with a split of real-world and ghost-zone materials, nothing can phase through them.”

“Do they accept human currency?”

“...Maybe?”

“Maybe,” he deadpans, crossing his arms.

“Give me a break! I never needed ghost phones before!”

“Do you even know where to get them?”

“Um. Most major lairs are supposed to have extras…?”

Batman pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath.

Red Robin coughs pointedly before he can begin to address the various problems with Deadman’s suggestion.

“The Fentonworks location lists having a dozen devices called ‘Fenton Phones’ in their display. Supposedly meant to act as interdimensional communication devices. If we sacrifice one of the nets we should have enough spare ectoplasm to power them all.”

“Flash.”

“On it!”

“Right. Expanding the portal isn’t feasible given the limited supply of ectoplasm. We can’t afford to damage this. We’ll have to pair off into teams of two - one flight-capable member each-” he cuts himself off, noticing the sudden hand waving in the air. “Yes, Deadman?”

“So, uh, mighta forgot to mention this before, but that’s really not necessary. Remember how I said you’re ‘out of step’ with the ghost zone? Yeah, you can also fly.”

“...I see. Are there any other things we might do in the ghost zone that we should be aware of in advance,” Batman asks, suppressing an eye twitch.

“Not really. Just don’t go offering up soul bits to randos like JohnCon here and try not to offend anybody.”

Constantine’s eye twitches.

---------------------

The museum is more than happy to lend them the Fenton Phones, thankfully. Once they’re all online they have just enough for each member of the team being sent in - Shazam, Green Lantern, Superman, Batman, Orphan, Red Robin, Signal, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Constantine, and Deadman - and one for the team guarding the portal - Flash, Oracle, and Robin.

Down to two working net devices, they leave one with Robin in case of a ghost escaping into the living - a valid concern since the portal will have to remain open due to the lack of a seal other than ‘turn it off.’

The other stays with Batman for their journey into the zone.

He hopes things will remain peaceful as Deadman claims, and the ability to not allow themselves to be untouched made him much less uncomfortable going in with so little in the way of gear. Still, better safe than sorry - even if Deadman, Shazam, and Constantine should be able to act if needed - thus, the net.

Another quick test by Superman verifies the headsets work between the castle and the Zone, and Batman himself jumps in to test intra-zone communications - as well as to verify the flight ability.

With that confirmed and Deadman’s confirmation that he knows the way - mostly - and that it shouldn’t take more than a few hours to arrive, the rest of the Zone team files through the portal, taking a moment to get their bearings.

987 miles away, Dick and Stephanie lay sleeping in their rooms after their cover-patrol while Alfred has his breakfast and prays for his family’s safety. Below them all, a glowing green note falls to the floor in an empty cave.

***

@mayoota-blog1 @kyrianclawraith, @do3y, @someonebored0100 @omegasmileyface @a-star-with-a-human-name @akikoyuii @newgraywolf @tytythehistoryguy @lemccr

Fun Fact(s): Danny doesn’t do the whole ‘servant’ thing, but he got Wulf perma-freed from Walker’s prison unless Danny approved the imprisonment first (which he wouldn’t do without a good reason, and bringing in living world books doesn’t count)

& Wulf was like ‘I owe you’ to which Danny was like ‘Hey you really don’t have to but I should be able to make my own portals at some point and if you don’t mind can you teach me how so I can find xyz quicker to keep improving the GZ’ to which Wulf was like ‘of course! :D’

And he just kinda took to retrieving people/things on Danny’s behalf while he was still learning - akin to how Fright Knight retrieved stuff (crown, amity park, probably a few people’s heads/cores on a platter, etc) for Pariah Dark, earning Wulf the title ‘Right Hand of the High King of the Infinite Realms’ despite the fact that it was only sporadic stuff over the course of, like, three years (yeah, the portal power was a lot), which is how Deadman recognizes him (from the ‘Read these or else’ books)

Tucker absolutely jokingly refers to Technus as his minion sometimes (bc they’re tech buds now & Tuck’s a king. Just some friendly teasing) But the gossip chain don’t care, the gossip chain just went: That’s king 2’s minion [like wulf w a less-flattering title]

A scene I wanted to add but couldn’t make work: Superman: And also how anyone else is supposed to move in there, given the lack of a ground?

Batman: the what

Deadman, seeing opportunity: you just float

Batman: some of us can’t float

Deadman, grinning: We all float down there

Batman, who has seen the movie:...

[giggly-squiggily]

Switch ukyo and chrome from dr stone please

*delightful clapping* YESH! I love these two very much! I've gotcha covered, anon! :D I couldn't decide whether to write this romantic or platonic, so read it as you see fit :3

Cloud 9 (Taglist):

@myreygn

“It was just so…incredible!” Chrome gasped out, tears in his eyes once more as he reflected on his very first trip in the hot air balloon. “I never knew humans could fly, you know? All my life I accepted that the only way I could see the world is by climbing the highest tree, or the tallest mountain- but that? That was so….”

“Life changing?” Ukyo smiled, something squeezing in his chest as he watched Chrome gush. It was like watching a little kid opening the presents Santa brought them; the joy in their eyes as they looked upon their dream gift. Even if the hand he had in it was one of thousands, he couldn’t help but feel a bit proud he was able to give Chrome something so magical.

“Yes!” Chrome sighed, shoulders relaxed with a happy hum. “I’m a little jealous- back in the modern world, people had access to planes and hot air balloons with ease. Did you like it the first time you went airborne?”

“Nope- I got sick almost immediately.” Ukyo grinned, laughing at Chrome’s shocked face. “To be honest, I’m still a little motion sick when it comes to the sky. That’s why I like doing groundwork.”

And I get to spend time with you. He didn’t say it outloud.

“Yeah, I gotcha.” Chrome nodded in understanding, puffing up with sudden pride. “Us groundwork people- we’re lucky! Sure- the sky team gets that breathtaking view, but we get to find all sorts of neat things! And we get first touch!” To prove his point, Chrome dropped into a squat, reaching into a bush before pulling out a shiny rock. “See what I mean?”

“Pretty. What is it?” Ukyo asked as Chrome tossed it into the collection basket.

“No idea. Senku would know though. Best guess I got is that it’s just a pretty stone, but someone ought to like it.” Chrome’s eyes glew then, a new idea taking form. “Hey- Ukyo; let’s play a game!”

“Aren’t we working though?” Ukyo asked, amused.

“We are- it’s like Senku always says: Science is fun and productive!”

“When has Senku ever said that?”

“I don’t know- maybe I dreamt it. Anyway-” Chrome waved him off, grinning with glee. “Let’s go look for more shiny rocks! Whoever finds the prettiest one wins.”

Ukyo hesitated. It seemed kinda…silly. Like something children would do. Not to mention they still haven’t found the oil- it seemed like a waste of time.

And yet…

“Oh okay.” Ukyo gave in, smiling when Chrome whooped. “But we’re staying within the area- if we go too far we’ll lose track of the sky team.”

“Fair enough- get ready to lose!” Chrome grinned over his shoulder one last time before diving into the wildlife, seeking out stones.

“Oh don’t worry- I’ve already won.” Ukyo said to no one, just a tad breathless.

~~~

Stone hunting turned out to be quite the challenge.

The shiny one they found must have been a fluke- every rock either turned up earthworms or even uglier rocks beneath. Ukyo felt himself grow a tad frustrated at the lack of good stones.

Just a few paces away, he heard Chrome whoop in glee- most likely finding another shiny rock. Of course he had a natural knack for this sort of thing; he grew up collecting since he was likely a baby. Chrome was gonna sweep the floor with him.

Ukyo admittedly didn’t care if he lost- but he didn’t want Chrome to feel like he won by default either. He carried on searching.

Some time passed, and eventually Ukyo’s back was starting to ache from all the crouching. He went to announce defeat when he found Chrome kneeling with his back to him, studying a stray rock closely. He was so focused- tracing the shape with his eyes and swiping at excess dirt with his already stained thumbs.

So focused…and so vulnerable. Ukyo felt himself grin as he put down his basket, creeping over to the unsuspecting scientist.

“Is this…no, just a regular rock.” Chrome tossed it back into the bush, shaking his head in disappointment. “The pickings are slim to-DAHAHHAY!”

It was a dirty trick, but Ukyo had long lost interest in shiny rocks. Fingers danced along Chrome’s sides, pressing into his ribs and trailing along his belly, scratching through the fabric of his shirt. “What’s wrong? No luck with the rocks?”

“Ahehahahhahhahaha! U-Uhuhuuhuhkyo, you chehehahhahahater!” Chrome cackled, falling back and sending his collection basket rolling. “Wahhahahit, my treahahhahasures!”

“Don’t worry- we’re not on a slope.” Ukyo reached out with one hand to push the basket upright before returning to the tickles. “And I’m not cheating- I’m collecting a new stone. The Chrome Stone.”

“Yoohohoohu’d have to lohohoohoohhok soohohohomewwhhehehehere ehehehehelse for Chrohohohoohohmium! Ahehahahhaha wahhahhahahit- I miiihihihiihssed the johohohoke!” He cried, twisting and turning to escape the other man’s tickling fingers. “Stahhahahhap stahhahhahp gehahahhahahhahaha!”

“Mmm…nope. I don’t want to.” Ukyo grinned, even as he began to lighten up the touch. 

Big mistake.

Chrome- with a sudden burst of energy- twisted around and tackled him, sending them back into the grass. Before Ukyo could even react Chrome was tickling him, fingers flying across his belly and sides- sending riptides of laughter into the air around them. “Chrohohoohohohme whahahahhahait, I’m shahhahahhahhaharry!”

“Sorry, but sorry isn’t gonna save you now!” Chrome giggled, one hand moving up to Ukyo’s armpit while the other carried on drilling into the soft parts of his belly, making him squeal and arch. “You cheated in our game- and for that you must be punished Ishigami Village style!”

“Yohohohohoohou guuhuhuhuhuhuhys tihihihihiihihihckle eahhahahhahahachothehehehehher?” He wheezed out, too mirthful to get anything else out. “Thahahahhhahahat’s kihihihiihiihnda cuhuhuhhuhuuhuhuhhuuhte!”

“Cute? Oh no- we’re tortuous!” Chrome swept his hands up to Ukyo’s ears to make a point, pinching and pressing into them and his neck. “We make our bad villagers suffer!”

“CHROOHOOHHOOHOHOME!” A squeal ripped out of Ukyo’s throat, his laughter anew. He reached up to grab the other’s wrists, but his arms were jelly after a combination of rock hunting and tickles. He had no strength left. “PLEAHAHHAHHAHASE STAHAHHAHAHAP!”

“Do you admit defeat?” Chrome squeezed the base of his neck, earring a cackle.

“YEHEHEHEHHES!”

“Am I the stone finding champion?”

“OHOOHOHOHF COHOOHOHOHOURSE!”

“....Promise?”

“CHROOHOOHOOOHME!”

“Hehe, okay okay.” Chrome laughed as he stopped, watching Ukyo collapse beneath him- gasping for air. “That’s what you get for trying to cheat!”

“Fahahhair enough…what rocks did you find anyway?” Ukyo nodded at the basket nearby, forgotten in their game. Now it was Chrome’s turn to blush, a sheepish smile on his face as he scratched at his chin.

“Heh…so, you know how we were supposed to be looking for rocks? Well..I kinda got distracted.” He got up and dragged over his goodies, showing Ukyo the insides. The only rock within was the one they originally sighted. The rest was a variety of herbs, mushrooms, berries, and what looked to be a stink bug. “His name is Jerry.” Chrome answered Ukyo’s raised brow. “He wouldn’t get off the mushroom.”

“Pfft- I’m sure Francois will have a field day with that one.” Ukyo laughed as they stood, gathering up their things. “Technically you won; you were the one to find the shiny rock in the first place. Victory is yours.”

“How about we call it a draw instead? Then we’re both winners.” Chrome grinned, hiking up the path. “Besides, I got to spend the day with you. That’s a win in my book.”

He was too far ahead to notice the small inhale of air Ukyo took, nor did he see the soft smile playing on his lips after.

“Yeah…that sounds good to me.” Ukyo nodded before following along.

Thanks for reading!

[starmapz]

worship || t. fushiguro

❦ toji fushiguro x fem!reader

❦ smut oneshot

❝ after a day out you admit an insecurity to your husband and he has every intention of proving to you just how much you have no need to be insecure. he has no shame in just how willing he is to fuck that thought straight out of your head. ❞

❦ warnings ; mdni. 18+ only. fem!reader. husband!toji. unprotected. praise. dirty talk. oral (f! receiving). fingering. body worship. manhandling. biting. licking. mirror play. mentions of stomach bulge. pet names (mama, baby, girl, darling, doll). p in v. size kink. overstimulation. mating press. mentions of scarring/stretch marks. toji's a lil soft for his sweet wife.

❦ words ; 4.3k.

masterlist

The moment the door to your shared home is shut, Toji’s lips crash against yours, rough and needy. He’s been craving you since the moment you walked into the bedroom wearing a delectably short pair or shorts that hugged all of your curves just right.

His toned body pins you to the door, palms flat on the wall on either side of your head as he roughly grinds his hips against your core.

“Been waitin’ all day f’r this,” he groans into your mouth, his tongue swiping across your lower lip. Your lips part immediately, granting him the permission he craves. It’s hot, the heat from his body against yours, the maddening taste of him as his tongue swallows you whole, the feeling of his rough hands moving from beside your head to find purchase on your body.

One arm slinks around your back, arching you into him, while the other grips your hips, the pads of his fingers digging in with intent as he holds you tightly to him. He smirks when a wanton moan leaves your lips.

God, the feeling of your moan in his mouth is enough to set him on fire and his movements become more aggressive, teeth clashing and tongues twisting. His hand drifts from your waist down to your hips, relishing in the way you’re arching so obediently for him and yet when he moves to wrap your leg around his waist, you stiffen.

Toji’s not one to miss a single thing about his sweet wife. He’s mapped out every inch of your body, he knows how to finger you just right so that your eyes roll back in your skull and your thighs need to be held down to give him access to you. He knows the way you like his fingers around your neck, the way you like to be handled roughly.

So when you stiffen, he stops immediately, pulling back to examine your expression. When your eyes don’t meet his, he knows something is wrong.

“What’re you getting all tense on me for, mama?” He asks with narrowed eyes and a tilted head. Raven hair just barely blocks his vision but that isn’t what’s bothering him right now.

“I-” you hesitate, finding the ground infinitely more interesting than your husband despite the compromising position he has you in.

Sensing your hesitation, his hands move to your waist, gently caressing your curves in a more sensual manner. His attention never once leaves you as he waits for you to speak your mind.

“I’m just feeling a bit self-conscious I guess,” you voice your thoughts meekly.

Toji’s eyebrow raises, his eyes trailing the length of your body. You shrink away from him, which only furthers the crease in his brow.

Your husband isn’t overly affectionate, nor has he ever really had a way with words. Toji is blunt. He’s blunt, and he speaks his mind, so his question doesn’t shock you.

“Why?”

You pull your lower lip between your teeth, swallowing the uncomfortable lump in your throat as you force the words out, knowing this is something Toji had no intention of dropping. “When we were at the gym earlier today, that woman lifting weights was checking you out and-”

“That’s what this is about?” He interrupts, his genuine shock surprising you. He closes the gap between you before you have the chance to finish your sentence, his firm grip on your waist pulling you flush against the musculature of his broad chest. His warmth radiates against you and even as you share your vulnerability with him, you feel heat pool between your thighs.

“She-” you hesitate as Toji’s grip on your waist tightens, his thumb gently rubbing the skin beneath your shirt. “She was gorgeous, Toji.”

“Darlin’.” The pet name he uses with you, stated so matter-of-factly, as though you couldn’t possibly be more wrong. “Ya know I didn’t notice whoever y’r talkin’ about, right?”

You meet his eyes finally, showing him that you’re listening.

“Guess I’ll just have to show ya,” he smirks slyly, relishing in the way you squeal in surprise as he picks you up suddenly with ease. One arm supports your back, while his other is beneath your ass, holding you firmly to his chest. Your hands find purchase around his neck, staring up at him with wide eyes as he sets you down on the edge of your shared bed.

He parts from you for a moment, pulling your full-length mirror from the door in which it hung and setting it down across from you. You grimace, crossing your arms over your stomach as he sidles comfortably behind you, one leg on either side of your body as his large frame envelops you from behind.

The rough scarred skin of his lip brushes your cheek as he presses an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your cheek, smirking when he sees the way your cheeks redden in the mirror.

God, is he ever a sight to behold, the way his biceps ripple with each minute movement of his arms. But to him, you’re a goddamn masterpiece. Flawless in every way, because you’re sculpted for him, you fit against him so perfectly. You complete him, and if you don’t believe him by the end of the night then he’ll spend his entire life proving that to you.

His fingers wrap around each of your wrists as he rests his chin on your shoulder, lidded eyes watching your expression as he moves his- and your- hands up your hips, over your waist, over your plump breasts, taking care to slowly move both pairs of hands back down the center of your body.

“Jus’ look at my girl, so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he coos.

Hooking his leg under your ankle, he deftly pulls your legs open, sliding your hands down over your hips, squeezing the plump of your ass before he holds your legs open and brings your hand down to your clothed core. Your hips buck at the contact and he chuckles lowly, his voice dripping with arousal as you let out a needy whine.

“I love this body,” he purrs affectionately in your ear, finally releasing your wrists as he slides his hands back up your body, his fingers hooking beneath the fabric of your shirt as he effortlessly brings it up over your head and tosses it across the room.

“T-Toji-” you whimper his name as his thumbs hook onto the belt loops of your denim shorts, dragging them painstakingly slowly down your body, admiring the way his thumbs drag along the bare skin of your hips and down your legs.

Sitting mostly barren before him, he sees the way you try to shrink back into his chest, away from the mirror.

“None of that, mama,” he chides as his lips meet the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck. He sucks and laps at the skin, sure to leave a mark before his tongue swipes over the purpled skin soothingly.

He gathers both of your hands behind your back, holding them against his toned abs with one large hand as he moves his opposite hand down to your core, his middle finger ghosts over your clit and through your slit, pulling a whine from your lips.

“I love your curves,” he drawls in your ear, pulling your earlobe between his lips as he sucks on it before peppering kisses down your neck. As you squirm against him, desperate for friction, he drops your hands which find their grip on either of his thighs. He makes use of his freed hand to palm your breast, grinning when you gasp as he flicks your nipple.

His hand lowers down to your hips, sliding across stretch marks and imperfections in your skin. He doesn’t let you shy away, spotting your insecurities before you have the chance to let yourself be insecure about such a thing.

“I love-” his voice carries a huskiness not noticeable in his previous words as his finger hooks around the seam of your panties, pushing them aside and revealing your heated core. His finger glides through the slick of your folds, soaking the digit and he hums in satisfaction before he finishes his thought. “-every little mark and scar that makes you you.”

It’s strangely sweet to hear such a thing come from Toji, even dripping with lust. Though he makes it clear he loves you, he’s not an overly affectionate person, generally only craving your warmth on the couch and at night in bed. He’s a sweet talker in bed, but he’s never had a way with words.

Yet now, as his forefinger and thumb grip your chin, keeping your gaze locked on your dripping sex, soaking wet for him, you feel loved. You feel attractive.

“I love you, Toj- ah!” Toji grins as he plunges a digit slowly into your cunt, gliding in easily. The feeling of his knuckles hitting your slick lips makes your toes curl with anticipation as you arch into his touch.

He hums in approval. “Love you too, baby. Now keep y’r eyes on my sloppy girl,” he breathes, slipping another finger into your soaking core. With each pump of his long fingers stretching  you out, whimpers and moans fall easily from your lips.

Toji’s hard length presses against your lower back and ass and as much as Toji enjoys watching how you fall apart on his fingers in the mirror, he’s growing needy. He speeds up his movements within your tight cunt, a husky groan leaving his grinning lips as your walls contract around him.

Toji slows his movements, swallowing hard as you whine for him to speed up, mumbling a broken “pleaseplease toj- fuck,” and oh how he loves to hear you beg.

His cock twitches against the plump of your ass and he growls, easing a third finger into your core and allowing you a moment to adjust before he curls his fingers just right against your walls, hitting the spot that makes your stomach knot and your thighs shake in anticipation.

“Toji right there, just like-” you babble between moans as he moves his thumb in slow circles around your clit. He leaves a series of slow kisses on your jaw as he holds your chin steady, your blissed out expression nothing short of gorgeous as you quiver over his fingers.

His teeth graze your skin as you moan his name oh so angelically, a sound like music to his ears- and his cock- as it jumps in his shorts against your ass. As your walls begin to pulse around his fingers, Toji rests his chin on your shoulder again, pupils blown out as he watches you fall apart all from his fingers, thighs shaking as sounds of pleasure and ecstasy part your lips.

His fingers slow, letting you ride out every last ounce of your orgasm all while he continues to hold your chin, to have you watch the gorgeous scene he’s watching play out before him.

“That’s it, baby. Give it t’ me,” he grunts in your ear, bringing his movements to a halt when your figure slumps back against him.

You whimper when he pulls his fingers from your sensitive walls, bringing them up to your lips. Your tired eyes open at the taste of your own arousal on your lips as Toji slides his fingers between your lips. His pupils are blown wide as he watches you take his digits to the knuckle, cleaning them of your slick.

Your tongue slides out over your lips when Toji’s hand parts from the warmth of your tongue. He finally lets your chin go, shuffling back on the bed and bringing you with him. You gasp in surprise as Toji maneuvers you back with him, before flipping you to be underneath him.

“Y’ see how fuckin’ stunning you are now?”

You nod slowly but it’s still not the reaction Toji wants from you.

He sits up and pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it aside carelessly. Your eyes roam the length of his body as his hands come down on either side of your head. Still, your eyes come to settle on the tent in your husband’s pants that has your mouth watering.

“Lookit me, mama.” Toji pulls your attention back to his emerald eyes, narrowed with lust. “Y’ get that,” he whispers huskily as he juts his chin in the direction of his rock-hard erection, “when I’m done makin’ sure I never hear another thing ‘bout some girl at the gym.”

He loves the way your wide eyes watch him, smirking as he captures your lips with his, leaving a hand above your head to hold him up while the other travels down your chest to flick your nipple. When you jerk under his touch and your lips part, he uses the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth.

And oh how he cherishes the way you whimper into the kiss as he pays attention to the bundle of nerves between calloused fingers.

“Mmf, Toj- hah-” you moan into his mouth, his minty taste fresh as it dances against your tongue. Your moans goad him on as he flicks your nipple again before he pulls back and moves to pay attention to the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck.

“Y’ drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he groans against your skin, sucking and nipping at the length of your neck before smoothing his tongue over the marks he’s left behind on you. He leans back to admire the purpled skin, the bruises that tell the world you’re taken by the man who gives you the best dick of your life.

Your hands rake through Toji’s hair when he dips down to pay attention to your neglected breast, lapping his tongue from the bottom of the plush skin up to your nipple. He blows on it, chuckling when you whine and shiver at the cool air.

“Such a sweet lil’ thing,” he coos, nipping at the hardened bud. You struggle beneath him, desperate for more, more friction, more touch, more pleasure. And oh, how Toji relishes in each and every little reaction and moan he pulls from you, all so cute.

The pressure of your hands against his head increases as you push him towards your dripping pussy and he grins up at you, pausing as his tongue swipes your nipple once more. “Patience, doll,” he teases in his sultry voice, rutting his hardened length against you.

“Toji, I need you,” you whine.

“Ah ah ah, what’d I say, girl?” He drags his hand slowly from your breasts down your stomach, backing onto his knees. “‘M not done with ya yet.”

You whimper, your grip on his hair tightening enough that Toji groans. Holding out on his own pleasure is something he rarely does but today, this moment, it’s all about you and he’ll be damned if you don’t let him take his time.

The taut skin of his scarred lip brushes your stomach and you jolt, big eyes watching him intently as he moves down your body. His lips leave uncharacteristically tender kisses down the length of your stomach before he smooths his tongue over that same line of kisses.

“Love feelin’ you here when I’m inside.” You follow his hand that settles over your stomach, your cheeks reddening at the vulgar words that spew from Toji’s lips. He chuckles at the sight of your blush. “When I’m deep inside n’ you clamp ‘round me so good, fuck,” he pushes his statement, grinning when your head falls back on the bed in an attempt to hide your flustered expression.

“Keep y’r eyes up here, mama.” You obediently raise your head again, hopelessly blushing and needy as you meet his hungry eyes. His gaze narrows as he hums out a ‘good girl’ that has your pussy pulsing with desire.

Toji continues his leisurely trail of sloppy kisses, nipping at the skin of your lower stomach that he knows you’ve been self conscious of in the past. He watches the way your body shivers when his teeth graze the skin, but then he presses a long, languid kiss to the skin, his eyes never once parting from your gaze.

“Y’r gorgeous, doll.”

Toji’s genuine words send a wave of heat through your body and you aren’t sure whether or not you’re more giddy, flustered, or horny at the sentiments he’s expressing as he worships every inch of you with wandering hands, teeth, and lips.

Continuing his motions, he revels in the way your back arches so perfectly for him with just one swipe of his fingers through your sopping folds. He smiles against the skin of your thighs, not oblivious to the fact that you’re trying to shy away from him as he sucks on the stretched skin of your upper thighs, covered in light stretch marks.

“Doll,” he pulls your attention back to him, your glazed eyes now intently watching his actions again. “I love you. N’ I love your thighs n’ everythin’ that comes with ‘em, scars n’ all.” You can’t help the genuine smile that spreads across your features at Toji’s genuine words.

“I love you too Toji,” you sigh dreamily as your husband presses his cheek to your thigh. He squeezes your leg with his free hand, his devilish smile causing you to tilt your head questioningly, only to throw it back against the bed as Toji’s finger plunges into your pussy and rips a gasp from you. “Shit, Toj-”

“She’s so fuckin’ sloppy for me,” he laments seconds before he pulls his digit from within you, jade irises fixed on the way your lips are parted in pleasure as you watch him suck your juices from his finger, pullling it from his lips with a pop! His tongue lolls out as he goes to press the flat of his tongue to your dripping cunt, always so vulgar.

“Wan’ you to fuck me, Toji,” you whine when his tongue dips inside you and sends pleasure up your spine like a firecracker popping.

“Patience, mama,” he chides, pulling back enough for you to see the arousal that drips from his chin. When you push him back down with a hand tangling in his raven hair, he chuckles and the vibration has you arching your back for more, more.

Obliging your silent plea, Toji thumbs the hood of your clit. “Shit, Toji-” you breathe out, your hips bucking.

“Still sensitive, darlin’?” He asks, but his tone is teasing and you know he has every intention of holding you down and pulling every last whine and moan he can from you in the only way he knows how.

Your legs tense around his head, breath coming out in pants when he swirls his tongue around your clit. “T-Toji-” You moan his name, fingers curling in his hair when he sucks on your clit and pleasure surges through your body.

“Tha’s right, listen to how sloppy she is f’r me,” his words are barely audible over the squelching of your pussy as he parts your folds with a finger before sliding two in.

“Hah- shit-!” You sob out as Toji gives you no time to adjust to his fast and repetitive movements, bullying his fingers against your already sensitive gummy walls. Your jaw goes slack, head lolling back as he curls his fingers so skillfully, so practiced in the way that has your toes curling and heels digging into his back.

Your husband hums, the vibration sending a wave of pleasure through your body as you squirm, your hips jerking. Toji slides his free hand from your thighs up to your hips, draping it horizontally across you as he holds you down. “Stop runnin’, mama.”

You whimper and gasp as the additional pressure on your lower stomach causes your body to jerk as a tight knot forms in your abdomen, the pleasure rapidly increasing. You squirm in Toji’s grasp which only has him chuckling at the sight of your overstimulated pleasure.

“Atta girl, give it t’ me. Wanna taste you,” his words are muffled in the folds of your cunt which spasms at the sound of his gruff voice. Your orgasm rips through you as you scream Toji’s name like a mantra, your vision blurring as tears streak from the corners of your eyes down your cheeks.

Toji’s fingers slow to a gradual halt, his tongue working you through the intense orgasm as he watches the way you twitch and jerk with each wave of your orgasm, your juices leaking onto his tongue steadily.

With one last lick up your folds, he pulls his fingers from you. You whimper as the pleasure continues to ring in your ears, but Toji’s nowhere near done.

“Tastes heavenly,” he grins at you and licks his lips as he sits up between your legs, barely managing to catch your glassy-eyed attention. “Can you give me one more, sweet girl?” He asks, softly kissing your lips.

Your arousal coats his lips and drips down his chin, warm when it hits your breast. You nod with a blissed out smile and Toji cannot possibly get enough of that look. He loves the way you take him so well, the way your body jerks and jolts with each calculated flick and curl of his tongue and fingers within you.

He loves the control.

He loves your body.

He loves you.

He wastes no time in finally pulling his shorts down along with his boxers, his head falling back as his rock-hard boner is finally freed from its confines, hitting his toned abdomen with a slap!

It’s all so lewd, the way Toji stares at you, drinking in your every expression as your mouth falls open when he pushes your legs up and presses his body against yours, legs held in place over his shoulders.

He lines himself up at your entrance and feeds you his cock, inch by inch, jaw clenching with desire as your walls squeeze him even after two orgasms.

“Shit, y’er tight,” he mumbles as he presses forward until his thick cock is buried to the hilt. Viridescent eyes lock onto yours as he uses every ounce of self control not to tear you apart right then and there for his own pleasure.

No, this is about you. He wants today to be about you.

“Y’ see how fuckin’ gorgeous you look takin’ my cock?” Your eyes lock to his gaze after the vulgar statement before shying away. “Nuh uh,” he grabs your chin, urging you to keep your eyes on him. “Wanna see y’r face.”

“F-fuck, fuck!” You gasp when he pulls out to the tip before slamming into you with no warning, your eyes rolling back as you practically see stars. Your reactions are like fuel to Toji’s fire as he groans at the sight of your eyes rolling back and his fingers part from your chin to rest on the bed at either side of your head as he pounds his cock into you.

It’s pure ecstasy and Toji’s been waiting for this moment all day. Your hands find purchase on his back and you pull him closer, deeper, running your nails down the length of his back. Angry red marks trail across his muscles but they’re a distant thought as Toji’s world is clouded in a haze of every moan and whimper he pulls from the back of your throat.

The room is filled with the lewd noises of your sloppy cunt, still so sensitive, squeezing his length with every thrust, followed by his heady pants and your moans.

“Squeezin’ me so tight, darlin’,” he groans, throwing his head back. He knows you’re close, he can tell by the way your moans and pleas turn to meaningless babbles and choked cries. 

“Feel so good, Toj, don’t- hah fuck- don’t stop-” you barely manage to choke out as your walls pulse and milk your husband until you’re all he can see.

His pace begins to falter and grow less rhythmic as his high closes in and he’s whispering down in your ear in such a husky voice you almost fall apart right then and there. “Where d’you want me, doll?”

“Inside, wanna feel- ah- you inside-” you beg in a whiny voice. He grins, kissing your jaw before his pace increases, growing sloppy as he chases his own high, knowing you’ll come down with him.

And god is he right, the moment his hard cock twitches and jerks inside you, your legs grow impossibly numb and pleasure tears through you like a tsunami, pulling with it a wave of moans and curses.

Toji leans forward on his arms as you pulse around his cock, slowing his pace to milk out every last drop of cum that fills you and drips down the hilt of his veiny length. Your chests heavy synchronously, both lips parted as you try to catch your breath.

When he regains his composure, Toji leans back, pulling himself out and watching with a smirk as the mix of his and your arousal drips so dirtily from your leaking hole, clenching around nothing.

“Good girl,” he praises you, leaning forward on his muscular arms to kiss you softly, sweetly. “Takin’ me so good,” he praises again, pulling back and admiring the way you timidly smile at him.

“Tojiiii,” you whine in a breathless giggle as he peppers kisses along your face. It’s so uncharacteristic of him you almost wonder what’s happened to your husband, but in truth you can’t wonder that when he had you folded in a mating press only seconds ago.

“Now don’t go thinkin’ anythin’ like that again, yeah?” When his words are met with your saccharine sweet grin, eyes still glazed over in bliss, he smirks.

No one gets to make him feel this way but you.

His perfect and gorgeous wife.

masterlist

a/n ; please follow/like/reblog/share if you enjoyed ♡

[unknownjpegs]

snack run

Xavier makes him feel patient and tuned in. Present and accounted for, even if it’s not always a fun place to be. That’s one of the things he’s learning since they’ve gotten together. That fun isn’t always good. He worries about that. Ruminates, admittedly more than a bit, on all those spaces Xavier fills in for him. If he ought to be doing it himself. But sometimes, like now, where they’ve tucked themselves together on the couch to pick through a bucket of candy he suspects Benny might have literally stolen from a child, Benji doesn’t worry at all.

“Oh I hate this.” Xavier whines, shoulders curving as he shuffles down lower in his spot. His knees hitch up and nearly block Benji’s view of the screen, which flashes a nasty segment from an on old fear-reality rerun.

“Where were the animal rights lads about this show?”

“It’s a cockroach.”

“Right, so it’s a cockroach and that means it deserves to get —“

“Yes!” Xavier laughs, crawling into Benji’s lap. His big hands frame his cheeks, shake his face. The grin splits it immediately. “Yeah, dude, I think they deserve whatever the fuck happens to ‘em!”

“They—“

“Cockroach,” Xavier repeats. Benji’s eyes narrow. He says it with a new pronunciation; mostly phlegm, emphasis on the hard sounds. 

“That is fuckin’ shit, yeah? Don’t even sound like that.” 

“I’m hungry now, which is…gross to admit after that episode. But I need a snack.”

Benji finally drops to his back on the couch, accepting Xavier’s weight as it flattens comfortably over him. All the tension seems to slip, uncoil from around his joints, and he finds his eyes closing. 

“No napping. Snacks.” He sits upright, hands sliding to frame Benji’s chest and push at him incessantly. There’s a moment where Benji nearly breaks; when Xavier folds hands over his heart and fakes compressions. He leans down, hovering as they share breath.

“I’m cardiopulmonary resuscitation certified.” His eyebrows wiggle. “That stands for CPR. You have to open your mouth. So I can, like, save you.” 

Benji cups the back of his thighs, roams that touch as he pretends to consider. “What if I’ve got one of those do not resuscitates orders?” 

“I need someone to carry the snack bag, though.” 

He’s laughing then. Hard, gasping bursts of it that make his sternum ache beneath Xavier’s hands. Benji aims sever half hearted swipes at him, kicking helplessly. He could escape, if he really wanted. But Xavier is warm atop him still, shaking with laughter and rubbing up against him pleasantly as a result. He feels safe and warm, could stay here right here, content beyond words, for a day after forever. 

“That all I am to you now? Get locked down and you’ve got me doing manual labor?” Benji quirks an eyebrow and Xavier must see something dangerous and meanin his smirk because he leans back, puts his hands up in surrender. “Benji’s just better cut out for it, yeah? Why’s that?”

“Dude.”

“I think you should probably pay.” Benji says, nodding his head until Xavier begins to do the same, his mouth wrenched in such a cute pout that all the teasing at least earns him a quick, firm peck. 

*

Benji’s watching him so close on their walk that he trips no less than three times. They haven’t smoked yet (planning on it, at least) so he hasn’t even got that excuse. They lean together, shoulders bumping. And as they near the block of the gas station, Xavier opens his jacket and tucks Benji inside. It’s hard to walk that way but warm. Benji stumbles, curb to the toe of his boot, and lets out a wild laugh as Xavier rights him. He takes the opportunity to put his nose to the center of his chest and inhale. 

“You know how I was talkin’ about — like, one day we should probably have that old flings convo?” 

Xavier swallows hard when their eyes catch. A few of his fingers walk up Benji’s hip, toying with the hem of his shirt until they get enough access to slip underneath and find skin.

“Yeah,” he responds airily, either from the breathless laughter or — well, the fact that they’ve become so enamored in that little tuck of time, staring at each other, they stop in the middle of the dark empty street. 

“Jacket was one of ‘em.” 

Xavier’s nose scrunches. “This one? It was — sorry, what?” 

Benji shuffles closer even still, greedily traces both hands up a sweeping spine. His thumbs dig on the way down and Xavier makes a tiny noise, pressing forward hard enough it makes Benji grin. 

“Feel a little less bad about it now. Sinc, y’know.”

Xavier narrows his eyes.

“You’re proper weird about—“

As if waiting for the cue, he sighs and drops his face into Benji’s neck. “It’s so hard to look at you when you’re this close, man. You have no idea— like I can’t even and you smell good and it’s just fucking crazy.”

Benji huffs a laugh into the top of his head, but his chest feels so tight at that admission. He felt that way, sometimes. Felt shy. But the other half of it, he felt as if he didn’t sneak glances at Xavier, just look at him for a bit, he’d go as mad too. 

A beckoning pat to his head makes Xavier lift his face. Benji tilts it higher until he’s baring a bobbing throat. 

“You being weird too makes me feel less bad about the fact—“ he murmurs it to the pale column, darting a few kisses along freckles until they thin near his throat. Benji always found that funny. Found it impossible not to look at; how the freckles were denser on the sides of his neck, near his shoulders, than over his adam’s apple. Like some animal with markings and a soft white underbelly — it made him want to bite. 

“You’re about to say something insane.” Xavier whispers. Benji’s eyes flick up to catch how his breath peters out into the cool November air.

“Sh — about the fact that, y’know that party? You gave me this jacket.” His free hand slips under the lapel, coasts over Xavier’s chest, tucks behind to rest just above his ass.

“Oh no.” 

“Oh yeah. Xavier.” His hand flexes, he bites the shirt beneath his nose to muffle a laugh. Half embarrassed, half emboldened, because: “Literally thought I was going to die. Mate, just how it looked on me ‘cuz it’s big for you, right? And you always smell good.”

“Please.” Xavier whines, pushing helplessly against his shoulders. He’s squirming in Benji’s grasp, his head tilted back and eyes shut. His eyelashes catch the golden streetlight a few feet away, and Benji’s momentarily silenced by it. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” Benji compliments sweetly. Then his voice drops. “Anyway. Don’t think I’ve gone at it that hard in my life. For real thought I had done damage.”

Xavier groans, and then he snorts out a sort of stuck-sounding laugh, and then groans again. “Oh, shit — that’s. Pft, dude. Uh, were…were you wearing it?”

Heat blossoms up his cheeks. He feels suddenly overwhelmed, but doesn’t want the moment to end — so he gives Xavier one last good squeeze around the waist before slipping just out of range.

He’s wearing it now. Sneakily transferred from Xavier’s shoulders to his during the embrace, it tucks up around his cheeks. Benji bats his eyes innocently. 

“Yeah, ‘course?” 

Xavier’s quiet then. Silent for longer than Benji thinks he’s ever heard him. If it isn’t full sentences, it’s little chirped additions to the conversation. If it isn’t that, it’s barely-there mumbling to himself under his breath. And if it’s not even that, he’s got a whole catalogue of adorable, habitual noises he adds to his world’s background noise. Benji loves to be apart of it, even in the silence. 

“A block from the gas station.”

Benji’s eyes dart down to where he passes a hand; a quick adjustment that similarly makes Xavier go vibrantly red. “Sorry. Bit mean.”

“I have to go inside.” 

“You could wait by the ice, have a smoke? Just tell me what you want.”

This second pause is shorter. It ends abruptly with two loud steps, an incomprehensible gasp of something from Xavier’s mouth before it pushes against his. Benji laughs, stretching up to wind arms around broad shoulders. 

He tries to say we’re going to get hit by a fucking car, standing in the street like a couple of pricks, but Xavier snaps quick kisses to his mouth between the words, and it all comes out muffled.

*

Benji carries the snack bag, of course. And the change jingles in his pocket, broken with an oil-stained twenty note handed over. Except when they return to Xavier’s flat, they find it eerily quiet for a Friday night. There’s a note on the table Benji spots first and reads. 

“What?” 

Benji’s eyes flick up. The plastic bag is overfilled, about to snap. Tight to his forearm. But he can’t feel it.  Doesn’t mind, right then. 

“Everybody’s gone out.”

What Xavier does next makes him laugh out loud. His brow furrows, lips pursing petunlant and thin. “What? Lame! Where? And nobody thought it would be a good idea to ask us if we wanted to come.”

“Xavier.”

“I’m not getting mad about it.” He mumbles, crossing his arms and dropping onto the couch huffily. “That’s just kind of rude to wait until we’re out to —“

“Xavier.” Benji tucks a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking. He drops the bag on the table. Makes his way over to the couch. Slides smoothly into Xavier’s lap. Then he begins to shrug out of the jacket. “No one is here. Won’t be for a bit, by the sounds of Matilda’s plans.”

“Yeah, but why —“ Xavier’s expression goes fully, hilariously neutral. His jaw slackens, lips parting slightly, and then his eyes lock to Benji’s with a heated, intense immediacy. The color rushes forth, splotching his cheeks red instead of that slow, pretty crawl of pink. “Oh.”

Benji touches a finger down his chest. It starts to heave gently, stutters when the touch ends just below his belly button. He’s wearing an old band t-shirt. One of Benji’s, judging from the faded, gory logo. Pig Destroyers, or something similar. He zones out on the little gold ring between the bloody pig-monster’s time-worn nostrils. Admittedly for a reason— the fabric dents in a cute dome. 

Benji’s hand snaps up. His thumb presses down there, no slow touch or groping pretense about it. And Xavier jumps, his head tossing back so fast it cracks against the wall. His hips jolt, fingers suddenly tight on Benji’s thighs. That grip, accompanied by the insane noise he makes, have what feels like all the blood in his body drain south.

Xavier’s next noise is deeply displeased. Benji slides from his lap, but keeps a hand pressed to his chest as he settles beside. He draws one leg up, bent. Throws the other across Xavier’s thighs and snaps him close, restraining his squirming bottom half with a hold that Xavier has tried to use against him while they act out, wrestle.

It might be evil to put his chin to Xavier’s shoulder, use a hand to guide his head to the side so they can look at one another. Benji’s done worse. Feels, as he stares into wetly excited green, that he may be about to top even that. 

“When’s the last time we were alone, y’think?” Benji tilts his head, looks around the empty flat. “Like this. Nobody about to jump ‘round a corner.”

Xavier gulps. He leans forward until a fist in his hair holds him still. “Hn, shit. Probably — um. Probably before Halloween.”

“Right, yeah. Before Halloween.” Benji nod sagely. “Jeans off.”

Xavier laughs, thighs tensing beneath Benji’s leg. “How am I—“

“Enough to take it out.”

Xavier goes tense all over, and then his hands snap to his zipper and begin fight with it. Benji watches as the fabric gets pushed down as far as it will go, bunching and cutting a cute dent into pale, freckled thighs. Benji squeezes there for fun. For fun — because it’s good. Because all this feels good, feels natural. He knows what this is; even if, at the moment, he couldn’t manage that verbally if tortured. 

Benji tucks his face into his neck, warm and beading droplets of sweat. He hasn’t even been touched properly, except for Benji’s brief exploration and fabric. He places several kisses there. Finds himself entranced by the feeling, the smell, the nearness of a body — this body. He doesn’t even realize that his hand has climbed Xavier’s side, slipped into the open-sided sleeve of Benji’s borrowed shirt. 

“FFFuck—Benji, ha!” Xavier swears, his back arching violently. Benji’s hand adjusts its pawing touch to his chest. Beneath his palm, he feels a nipple harden. 

“Your ice cream is going to melt.” Benji mumbles to his jaw, hand and mouth working in tandem. He gropes over Xavier’s chest, rubs circles against the muscle, digs fingers into the meat of it and squeezes. 

“Do I look — do I look like I give a fuck?”

Benji laughs. He releases Xavier’s hair to slide that hand between their bodies. Finds his wrist, feels that big hand tremble as he lifts it. He guides the touch over Xavier’s own thigh until it rests over his cock.

“No, you look like you were doin’ plenty of this too. Were you?” 

“Ohmygod.” Xavier gasps. He tosses his body forward, seeking out the rhythmic touch against his chest. Benji switches to a cruel little pinch to his nipple, and Xavier’s soft breathy noises get heavy. Go absolutely impure. He’s not even trying to be quiet, so Benji thinks a quick apology to the wall-sharing neighbor. But that only makes him think — someone else might hear Xavier, how pretty he sounds, how sweet and pathetically desperate. And thinking that way makes him mean. 

Benji forfeits the grip on Xavier’s wrist to return to his hair. He takes a fist, pulls his face to the side. The bumping of their shoulders and pained expression on Xavier’s blushing face indicate that he’s taken himself in hand. 

“We got time, but we don’t got all night.” Benji grin turns into a bit of a sneer and he shakes Xavier by that grip on his scalp gently. “C’mon. Make the first one quick, yeah? I’m trying to capitalize.” 

Xavier gasps. His eyes roll black and flutter before blurring against the ceiling. “Okay, that’s—that’s the weirdest thing I’ve cum to, for sure. Ah.”

He does, then, making Benji bark out a laugh. His hand doesn’t pause but softens as Xavier makes a mess of his fist, his stomach, Benji’s bunched shirt.

Benji accepts a scooped hand around the back of his neck, a gentle tug down so they can come together in a messy kiss. His cock throbs in his lap, especially when Xavier runs a quick hand over it, but they don’t do more than kiss. Filthy, sure, with Xavier’s preferred amount of tongue, but no more. 

“Benji.”

“Hm?”

“How do I tell you — like I don’t want to say…after that? Make it seem based on that. Jesus, I mean. It kind of is. But not overall?” 

Benji whistles. “Oh, fuckin’ scrambled you.” 

He gets shoved, jostled, moved with a sudden amount of strength that makes his laughter more just gasps. Xavier cages him down on the sofa in a pose he’s adopted before. 

“I was going to tell you, Christ, you’re the best boyfriend ever. Like not just my boyfriend, but in the history of boyfriends. The whole timeline. But now—“

Benji blinks up at him, shocked to find that wetness gathers at the corners of his eyes. He hides his sniffle as he moves, arms once more around Xavier’s shoulders, tugging him down. They kiss again. This one is more frantic. More more. Benji feels like whatever constricts his chest slips across their tongues. He holds onto Xavier, guides his head. When they pause, he touches fingers to Xavier’s kissed-pink lips. My, he’s thinking. It repeats in a bouncy echo inside his skull. My — and that’s all. He knows the rest. 

[thewitchoftherock]

“Hey! Get away from him! He’s a monster!”

“He’s a *hot* monster thought.”

Luna’s comment made my brain blue-screen for a moment. Literally. The chip in the side of my head which allowed me to access the galactic net with my brain suddenly shuddered and blanked, a flash of blue and an error message forming in my mind’s eye for about ten seconds before it rebooted. It didn’t hurt, but it was disorientating to the point where I had to check again and make sure that what just happened was real, and not a dream or a glitch-induced hallucination.

Luna, my oldest, kindest, most understanding friends in the whole solar system was on the ground before me, looking down with a soft, loving gaze at the injured monster whose head she rested on her lap. The creature - which I knew was male based on the longer translucent frills on his head- was something called a Lunar Lurker; a creature with skin so light it was almost luminous in even the faintest of light, and so thin you could almost see it’s silver-blue veins. It had no mouth—at least not one which had been discovered yet— so nobody really knew how it fed but stories though history had suggested it feeding on the sanity of others, keeping people hostage until they go mad. Others thought it survived on pain and fear. A more practical idea in my head— and the one the chip offered to me as the most logical option— was the theory that it absorbed it’s nutrients thought it’s skin.

That would explain why so often when they were seen, they were covered in blood.

This one was covered in blood as well, but it was it’s own blood; a gash in it’s side was the obvious source. I had never seen these things bleed before, never considered what its blood looked like, but regardless I found myself surprised that it was more silver than a blue when outside its body.

It looked up at Luna with it’s frontward facing eyes—they were bigger than the lateral eyes it had—and made some kind of noise that was something between the cawing of a crow and a breathy, slurred spoken language I couldn’t understand.

“Shh, shh, it’s ok.” She said as she gently ran a hand over one of its frills, “I got you.”

“I think it has you!” I said, reaching for my taser. From here, I could see it had claws on its proportionally huge hands. A single swipe and I was certain it could slit her throat. If it did absorb nutrients through its skin, maybe it would absorbed her blood to help itself heal from its injury. “It could kill you.”

“I know.” She said simply, “But he didn’t.”

It gave another strange vocalization, its head finds flicking as its long, slender fingers clenched and unclenched. Fuck, this thing had an extra joint on its fingers and watching them move made me feel sick.

“Can you walk buddy?” She asks as she slowly tried to lift it up to a sitting position. It didn’t move, and gave an obvious whimper of pain.

“Look, we’re lucky it’s injured.” I said, “Let’s get the heck away from here.”

“I’m not leaving him.”

“Because he’s hot?”

She flushed, her expression turning into a mask of indifference, “That’s besides the point.” She huffed, “Yes, he’s hot, but even so, he’s injured, and needs help.”

“Please don’t tell me your’e going to try to bang it.” I groaned. Luna was also one of the more ‘sexually adventurous’ people I knew. Horny on main, by her own admittance. “Look, I know you like monsters, but this isn’t fiction. It’s real. It’s a real monster-”

“Alien.” Luna corrected. “We called them monsters because they were on earth well before integration to the galactic community, and you know damn well that that kind of language is ignorant at best!” She continued to pet the thing’s fin. “We have plenty of aliens that were formerly considered ‘monsters’ which are accepted citizens now!”

That was true, unfortunately. Creatures we once called Werewolves, vampires, and fairies were now known by their proper names of Lyconaids, Nisharatan, and Airashoolore. Bigfoot when he was alive, was just an alien that crashed on Earth and spent the majority of its life thinking we were the monsters until we figure out universal translation, Nessie was a hermit who came here thinking that humans weren’t sentient at all, and chupacabra’s race didn’t recognize a species as sentient unless they could communicate via olfactory signals. So yes, many of the monsters were actually aliens, and most had integrated on earth easily enough.

Not Lunar Lurkers though. We still had no idea where they came from.

“Whatever. You can’t!”

“I know.” She said softly as she reached into her pack and took out a first aid kit.

“You do?” I breathed a sigh of relief. She was crazy, sure, but she wasn’t that crazy at least.

“Of course I do: He doesn’t pass the Harkness test.”

“The Harkness test?”

She rolled her eyes as she took out some bandages and began wrapping the wound. “The Harkness test.” She repeated. “An easy set of guidelines to see if you can ethically bang a non-human.”

“Oh gods.” I groaned.

“So, first, is the creature of human intelligence, or higher? I have no idea. Yet.”

Another groan escaped me as I sunk to the ground, my head in my hands.

“Second, can the creature communicate. well, right now, he can’t. But I’m sure we can get there.”

“You’re not seriously planning this, are you?” I asked, looking up at her through my fingers.

“He’s injured. He’ll need to be taken care of anyway, and I can do that better if we can communicate. I’m sure we can get a translator working for him.”

“And then you plan to seduce him?” I asked.

“Well, first, I make sure that he’s an adult for his species. If all that is true, and he consents, then it’s fine!” She taped the bandage over the wound, and cleaned up the blood stuck to his skin. The entire time he never took his frontal eyes off her. It was only then I noticed that his lateral eyes were fixed on me.

“And what if he consents, only to trick you into a vulnerable position, and then does something awful to you when you can’t defend yourself?”

she gave me a tired look as she put the rest of the bandages away. “Look.” She said, “Any woman puts herself in that position every time we get close to a man.” She looked down at him, a hand trailing over his long fingers with the extra joints, “And honestly… if I had to choose between a random Lunar Lurker, and a random man? I’d choose the Lurker every time.”

Writing Prompt #2668

"He's a monster!"

"He's a hot monster, though."

[guanana]

step on a crack, dr. lee’s gonna break your back! ♡ ljn x reader (18+)

genre: smut, jeno x reader, f x m, crack

word count: 12.2k+

summary: after years of sitting hunched over at an office desk and squinting your eyes at an overly saturated computer screen, your back finally gives out on you and decides it needs a break. 

good thing your friendly neighborhood chiropractor dr. lee is here to save the day! small issue though— he’s really fucking hot and he’s got a way with his hands.

smut warnings: dom!jeno, mild dubcon (please do not read if you are uncomfortable with this), penetrative sex, manhandling, choking, strength kink, oral (f receiving), minimal rimming (f receiving), fingering, squirting, subspace, degradation, mild spanking, body worship

other warnings: will more than likely contain anatomical and medical inaccuracies (please spare me)

masterlist | next

────── 〔✿〕──────

When you were younger, all of the adults told you that your twenties would be some of the best years of your life. Relaying tales of being able to stay out past the curfew your parents had set for you. To indulge in certain luxuries that weren’t accessible to you when you were younger– the finest of alcohol, gambling, and more. Old enough for the freedom that comes with adulthood, yet young enough for the rose colored glasses that’ll register one of your fondest memories. 

Not you though. 

Scrolling through your social media, you grumble to yourself bitterly as you deliberately swipe past a post of your old colleagues from school having a night out at the bar. Lined up along the stools and leaned up against one another, bright smiles and puckered lips showing off just how much fun they’re having. Envious of their fitted dresses and the heels that you’ve been admiring from far away at your local outlet. 

You really couldn’t blame them, though. They’ve invited you out many times. To no avail, they’re always met with rejection. The same exact excuses every single time: 

“I’ve got OT today.”

“I have a project due tonight, I need to get this done.”

“I’m too tired. You guys go on without me.”

It’s not that you wanted to be such a stick in the mud. You just happened to work at an office that sucks the soul out of your being. It’s no wonder that the invites have become extremely scarce throughout the years, but that didn’t stop you from being petty and refusing to leave a like on their posts.

“Like hell I will,” You spit back.

“Like hell I will,” You spit back.

“Like hell I will,” You spit back.

Haechan pouts at that, his eyebrows furrowing childishly at your attitude. “What’s got you so moody today? I just wanna spend some time with my favorite coworker.” Planting his hands on top of each of your shoulders, soothing not so gentle circles into the flesh. Digging his forefingers into the crook of your collarbone, inflicting minor pain. He whistles at how stiff the knots are. “Jesus, you’re tight.”

“Could you stop being annoying for like, two minutes please?” You retreat from his touches with a feigned scoff, refusing to let him in on the fact that the makeshift massage hurt like actual hell. Shooting shocks and aches all along from the bottom of your spine to the top, wondering why you’re strained. You’d be a fool to think you could evade Haechan’s observant gaze however. As he jabs a pointer finger right to the center of your back, you shoot up from your hunched over position with an obnoxious squeal. “Ah– fucking hell, Haechan!”

Maneuvering your rolling chair to give him your deadliest glare, you’re confused when you’re met with a concerned face. “Do you have back problems?”

The sudden question startles you. Craning your neck and giving it an experimental crack. You realize you've never put much thought into it. Writing it off as a minor inconvenience at most. Too caught up with the rest of life to be concerned with your physical health, you pushed any aches to the back burner of your mind. “I don’t think so?”

Another jab comes your way, this time directly at your trapezius. Squealing like a mouse in pain once again, you earn a few curious stares from your peers. “Ow!” You smack his wrist away. “What the hell is wrong with you!?"

“It’s because you’re always slumped over at that damn desk!” Haechan argues with a tone that’s similar to a naggy mother’s. “You need to get checked out before it gets any worse.”

“I’m fine,” You swivel your chair away from him and back towards your desk, wanting to end this interaction as soon as possible. “Seriously, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Ever the overly concerned friend, Haechan goes against your wishes. Reaching into his pocket for his wallet before filing through the several business cards he has stowed away. You hear an innocuous ‘aha!’ from behind you, turning back curiously only to be met with a small cut of paper. Wiggling his eyebrows at you mischievously, urging you to take it from him.

Taking the card with caution, you barely skim through the simplistic font before Haechan speaks up again. “This guy is top notch. He’ll put you back into shape like it’s nothing.”

“Dr. Lee Jeno, D.C..” You mumble to yourself. Looking up at Haechan’s cat-like expression with your own unamused stare, fingers already up in air quotes. “Step on a crack, Dr. Lee will put you back on track?” You mock with disdain before grimacing at Haechan. “You can’t be serious right now.”

“I’m definitely being one hundred percent serious,” Haechan replies. “Come on, give it a try! His rates are great before insurance. Who knows how much cheaper it would be with our health plan.” 

You’ve watched plenty of chiropractor videos on Youtube before. Fond of the ASMR and the funny reactions. They've kept you entertained more times than you’d like to admit. That didn't stop your irrational fear of having your neck snapped so far back you wake up to find yourself in front of the pearly gates though.

“Don’t you know chiropractors are quack doctors? I mean— look at this Patrick Bateman ass business card. This guy could kill me!” You counter pathetically. 

“Hey, don’t speak on my boy like that,” He points an accusing finger at you. “I’ve gone to him plenty of times, and I’m still alive!”

“That’s because you’re a freak of nature,” You sigh at his persistence, too many factors to consider before even thinking about calling this man. “I don’t know…” But when you stretch out and a crack evades both your ears, that same sharp tinge traveling up your back, you’ve got no choice but to give in. Deflating under Haechan’s narrowed eyes, you admit defeat. “Okay, fine.”

“‘Atta girl,” He cheers. “I swear that you won’t regret it. Dr. Lee’s great at what he does.” “I hope you’re right, because if he snaps my neck and I die— I’m haunting your punk ass.” 

“Being haunted by you doesn’t sound that bad honestly. But when have I ever lied to you?” He winks. “Oh, and make sure to tell him that I referred you.”

Deciding that he’s bothered you enough, Haechan bids you goodbye with a wave. When you’re left by yourself you examine the card much more thoroughly. Despite the extremely corny slogan, you admire the minimalistic design. Flipping it to the other side to get more of his information, taking a mental note to search up his reviews later.

——

Dr. Lee seems to check all of the marks. Almost five stars on Google Reviews, most of them being very thorough and positive. A variety of patients from the eldery, to athletes, and even to those who have suffered severe injuries. Many claim that he’s got the ‘magic touch’ and that he treats his patients with the utmost care. That and he has the credentials to boot, graduating at the top of his class.

Swiping through the photos to get a feel for what his office looks like, it seems he occupies a space at a local complex. It’s neat and tidy, a clear degree and certification plated right there for all to see. Seems like he doesn’t have any photos of himself however, his profile picture being the default silhouette. 

Admittedly you find yourself pacing back and forth, your phone resting on top of your coffee table. You’d like to blame it on mild phone anxiety, but you’ve got nothing to blame but your skepticism. Mentally battling with yourself to just give Dr. Lee a call and set the damn appointment.

Well, if he’s got Haechan’s approval (you’re not sure how valid that is), you guess it wouldn’t hurt to try. You seldom ever ‘treated yourself,’ so why not throw a couple of bucks on something that’ll actually do you some good? 

Bracing yourself, you swipe your phone off of the table dramatically before dialing the number displayed on the card. Slapping the device onto your ear while the rings reverberate around your virtually silent room. Swaying nervously as two rings, three, then four pass without an answer. Wondering if you’re in over your head and should quit while you're still ahead, looking back at the screen and hovering your thumb over the hang up button.

Until somebody eventually picks up. A voice that is gentle yet booming with bass, delicate yet boyish in the same manner. “Hello? You’ve reached Neo Therapy Practitioners, this is Jisung speaking!”

Fumbling your phone like a hot potato, you tuck your phone in the nook of your shoulder. Grabbing a pen and notepad before plopping back down onto your couch. “Yeah, hi, yes!” You splutter. “I was wondering if I could set up an appointment with Dr. Lee?”

“Oh, for adjustment? Sure!” You hear some rustling before the man on the line continues. “Let me just get some of your info before I transfer you over to him. He’ll go into more depth with you than me.”

After providing Jisung with the necessary information, he sends you to Dr. Lee’s extension. An annoying jingle that brings you some peace. Still just a bit wary of setting up your meeting with Dr. Lee, your concerns only growing when the song comes to an abrupt stop.

Now, you may not have a face to pair with whoever is on the other side of the line, but nothing could have prepared you for the intense timbre that's on the other line.

"Hello?” The deep and sultry voice greets you, and when you take a few too seconds too long to return it, he tries again. “This is Dr. Lee. Are you there?”

Straightening your back out like you’re already in the room with him, it takes a lot of energy to double down without embarrassing yourself. “Yes! I’m here.”

A chuckle is offered in response, and you find yourself biting your index finger at how much of a baritone his voice has. Unlike Jisung who had an innocent tinge to his tone, Dr. Lee’s voice made it clear that he was a man of experience. A bravado that couldn't be missed even without physically seeing him.

“Glad to hear it.” You practically hear the smile in his voice. “So, Jisung told me you were looking to be adjusted?” When you hum in response, there’s a pause before he continues. “Sounds good. Typically with your first appointment it’ll consist of a consultation followed by your first adjustment. Does that sound okay?”

“Mhm, that's fine.”

“Perfect.” He beams, going over some more basic information that you jot down on your notepad. “Would you be free to come in tomorrow at let’s say… nine a.m? I actually had a cancellation and it gives us more than enough time before my next patient.”

When you check your wall calendar to confirm you have nothing going on in the morning, you let him know that you’re good to go. Everything goes swimmingly from there.

Dr. Lee instructs you to wear a casual set of clothes, to have your insurance and identification ready, and to just relax. 

“I’ll print out a brief page of everything we discussed today, and I’ll hand over the rest of the information to Jisung to input into our system.” Dr. Lee finalizes. “I look forward to meeting you tomorrow. I'll see you then?”

“Absolutely,” You reply. “Bright and early. I’ll see you, Dr. Lee.”

With a click, the call ends. Stretching out and hearing the pops of your spine sing like a choir, you're thankful that such a nuisance will be put to a stop soon. You feel much more at ease than before you had called, and you hope that the same holds true for when you see him tomorrow.

——

Turns out that it didn’t hold true. Not one fucking bit. Maybe you can still make a run for it, the main lobby merely a hallway from his office. 

It had gone easily enough. Meeting his secretary Jisung at the front desk with an enthusiastic greeting. He was young, probably using this as a part time job, most definitely not taking it seriously since you caught him playing Minecraft on a separate gaming laptop. Slamming the screen shut in a fit of embarrassment, he apologizes hurriedly before you reassure him that he’s okay, laughing at his silliness.

Handing him the required materials, he sends you to the back with a small smile. “First door to the left. He should be ready for you.”

With a nod you follow his instructions. That same confidence that you had carried from the night before crumbling to dust the moment you turned down the handle of the door. Swallowing a thick wad that’s formed at the center of your throat when you take in the sight of the man who’s setting up his equipment.

Haechan be damned, this guy was going to kill you. Not in the way you had first feared though. 

Dr. Lee was a sight sent straight from the Greek Gods themselves. Aphrodite taking special care and concocting whatever the fuck he was made out of with a few shots too many of favoritism. Muscular legs that are restrained by black jeans that travel up a lean waist that part into obnoxiously broad shoulders. Proportions unbelievably perfect with an even more beautiful face to boot, that sharp jawline and beauty mark that is saved for those who are the cream of the crop.

If you were attracted to merely a voice via a phone call, the real thing has you absolutely folding.

Unfortunately for you, you were too slow in backing out. Dr. Lee had finished adjusting the height of the bed at the center of the room, presumably sensing your presence before twisting his entire body to find you at the door frame. Upon meeting you for the first time, his face twists into one of the most welcoming expressions ever. 

Oh yeah, you were doomed.

Taking large strides towards you, he extends his hand for you to take. “Nice to be able to meet you in person.” He says, eyes forming into sweet crescents upon your accepting shake. His large hand wraps around yours completely. Gaze trailing from where you’re connected to his pronounced forearms. Sleeves rolled up high enough to ogle the veins that lace around.

Said button up did him no favors either. Accentuating each taut muscle, his biceps begging to be freed from its constraints. The button just below his collarbone fighting for dear life lest he makes the wrong move and it pops off. Calling your name, he brings you out of your daze. Shaking your head to bring you back to reality, scolding yourself inwardly for being such a prude. “N-nice to meet you too, Dr. Lee.”

He blows a few black strands away from his forehead, snorting at your apprehensiveness. “Please save the formalities. Just call me Jeno.” He squeezes your hand in reassurance. Separating from you in exchange for extending his arm towards the bed with black leather cushions that are framed by fine bamboo. “Make yourself comfy, yeah?”

Following you closely before dragging a rolling chair to sit across from you in, he sits casually with his legs spread out and his chest leaning against the back support of the chair. Reaching for his clipboard and whistling a tune as he skims through some documents. “Alright, it seems like we have some minor back pain?” He licks at his thumb to make flipping through the pages easier. Pushing the glasses that slip down his nose, attentive to every detail. “Care to tell me about it?”

“WelI, I think I started to feel some aches as early as three years ago when I started at my office, but it was a nuisance at worst,” You explain. Jeno validates you by nodding along, jotting out your words into short notes on his clipboard. Holding his chin between his thumb and forefinger, he urges you to continue. “But it's gotten worse recently. It's more of a shooting pain now.”

“I see.” He affirms, tapping the pen against his bottom lip. “A lot of my patients that are in the office tend to be victims of misalignment, I’m sure your case is no different.” 

“I hope so,” You stifle a nervous laugh, halfheartedly relaying your worst fears in a joking manner. “Would hate to find out I have scoliosis this late into life and then have to get surgery for it.”

“Oh, please,” Jeno snorts at you with a feigned offense, tossing the clipboard back to his desk. “I notice your posture is a bit off, but it’s nowhere near so bad that it would require surgery. Plus–,” He cuts himself off when he rises from his office chair, circling behind you to plant his hands on your shoulders. The sudden closeness has your breath hitching, tensing up even further when he parts your hair to get a better look at the back of your neck. Feeling rather than seeing that his chest is probably no more than a few centimeters away from your back. A ghost of a breath against your ear, realizing that he’s much closer than you thought. “That’s what I’m here for. I’ll put you right back into shape.”

“Y-yeah…” You have to remind yourself that he is a certified professional. For that reason, you conclude that he is most definitely just being friendly– at least you try to tell yourself as you feel heat travel up your neck beneath his thumbs that trace over the top of your back. Wanting to slap yourself for getting nervous over him doing his job.

“Let’s take a look, yeah?” Those same thumbs trail down your back, the fitted workout shirt you decided to wear today making it easier for Jeno to get a proper visual of your spine, humming in fascination when he digs into the flesh. A slight jolt causing you to wince under his hold, squeaking feebly at the discomfort. You hope you’re hallucinating when you hear a breathy chuckle leave his throat. “Sorry, did that hurt?” He muses.

“No–! Okay, maybe a little,” You stutter out. “It was just a bit of a shock.”

A noise that’s akin to a lion on the prowl stirs in his chest, making his way back up to the vertebrae that’s on that rests right below your neck. Digging into the flesh once again, this time earning a hiss from you. Biting your lip when the same pain that you had experienced from Haechan resurfaces. “Looks like you do have some misalignment. Does this hurt?” He asks before exerting more force into the spot.

“Fuck–,” You curse, covering your mouth in embarrassment at your lack of professionalism. “Sorry, yeah. That hurt a lot.”

You’re starting to think that this alleged ‘doctor’ is having a little bit too much fun inflicting pain on you. Under the guise that he’s just examining what issues you have, you grow more skeptical with each chuckle. Just when you’re about to retreat from his overbearing touches, he retreats first. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea on what you’ve got going on.” 

“You think?” You deadpan, not sure if you’re finding relief in your suspicions dominating your obvious attraction.

“Well, I know, rather.” He shrugs before walking back over to his desk, pulling out a model of a spine. Traveling back to you to point at one of the uppermost vertebrae. “Your thoracic is misaligned towards the top, specifically your T1– which is responsible for lots of important things like your shoulders, arms, the like.”

“So what does all of that mean?” 

“Luckily, it’s not bad at all. I think a few sessions would be just fine,” He answers, discarding the spine model. “I’ll give you a sheet with a bunch of stretches that’ll prevent further injury. ‘Till then,'' That same smile encapsulates his features, tilting his head playfully. “Ready for your first adjustment?”

He raises his eyebrows when you give him a gobsmacked face, as if you haven’t already signed a waiver and a bunch of other non-disclosure agreements that specify that you are in fact going to be realigned.

 “Oh, we’re doing that now now.”

“Yeah, now now.” He mocks you halfheartedly. Hands now coming to your front and pushing you down gently, swallowing when you get the best look of his face that you’ve gotten in the short time you’ve been in this office.  “Lay back for me, okay?” He instructs softly, leaving you to grab his chair once again. 

You do as he says, coming down with control only to realize you’ve fallen into his hands rather than onto the cushion. A horrible realization dawns when you recall the Youtube video that you had watched before going to sleep. Oh shit, he was going to crack your neck.

“Relax for me, just let your head fall back. Don’t tense." He praises you when you follow with no objections. Taking your trust with gratitude, he coos at you when your eyelids flutter shut. “That’s it…” 

“Are you gonna do the thing?” You open one eye curiously. 

“What, the thing where I readjust your neck?” Noticing that your expression is scrunched in fear, he realizes that you’re still a bit on edge. He knows that earning his patients’ full trust is all part of the job. It came easy to some, but harder for others. Good thing he was a patient man. “I understand if you’re scared, but just know that I haven’t killed anyone.”

“Oh, that totally makes me feel better–”

“Yet.”

“Just how did you score such high reviews on the Internet?” You chide him. “My life is literally in your hands right now.”

“I think those reviews were properly earned because of my dazzling charisma. Is that not enough to put you at ease?” He soothes light circles into the back of your neck, earning a purr of satisfaction from you.  

“You mean your pretty privilege?” You drawl, immediately regretting not being able to bite back your sharp tongue. 

"So you think I'm pretty?" He questions.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, you amp up the theatrics by clamping your mouth shut. Motioning a metaphoric zipper from one end to the other and breaking off the tab.

Jeno decides he’s poked enough fun at you despite wanting to provoke more funny reactions. “Alright, now that you’re relaxed– I just want you to focus on your breathing.” He watches you inhale and exhale, chest pumping up and down with every breath. Gnawing at his cheek when he realizes that your shirt is just a bit low cut, your cleavage visible from where he’s sat behind you. “Mhm, good girl.”

The pet name quickly demolishes any relaxation you’ve achieved in the span of two seconds, but before you can properly address it, Jeno twists your neck. Squawking out a ‘oh my god!’ when a pronounced crack invades the room. Eyes practically bulging out of their sockets when Jeno brings you back to place, patting your cheek and letting out an exuberant laugh. 

“You did it!” He claps for you. 

“Holy fucking shit,” You gasp, unable to care about coming off as presentable to him. Sitting up quickly to wrap your hands around yourself. Unable to describe the sensation that just occurred, something in between satisfaction and utter shock. “I’m alive!”

“You are,” He says, bottom lip tucked between his teeth when you rejoice. His patients showing instant results and giving positive reactions would always be his favorite part of the job. “How do you feel?”

You take a few seconds to think, shaking your body a little and craning your neck side to side. “I feel a little lighter? There was a second where my head was just.. blank. Like there was nothing at all. I think I liked it.” 

When his lips quirk up into a smirk, you fold into yourself bashfully. Wondering if you’re coming off too casual with someone you had just met. Only now remembering that you had a very nice set of arms and hands over what you’d consider an intimate part of the body. Aside from Haechan who you couldn’t really chase away (no matter how many times you’ve cursed at him), you’ve never been too fond of physical touch. But when you catch the veins that have become even more prominent after exuding his efforts on you, you can’t help the fantasies that plague your mind.

Jeno was capable of twisting your neck like it was nothing. You wonder how easily he could lift you. Or how long he could last with you in his arms. Or how long he–

“Ready for the other side?” He pipes in. 

Maybe you shouldn’t  lust over your chiropractor when you’re in the same room as him. 

Falling back into him once again, he waits for your body to go slack. Counting off when you’ve reached a state of peace, he reiterates the action but in the opposite direction. That same rush breaking through your toughest nerves. Sighing out in relief, unconsciously arching your back when a tingle travels down your spine. Completely unaware of the way Jeno ogles the outline of your body in such fitted clothing.

“Still doing okay?” He hums, unconsciously trailing a hand through your hair. You ease into his touch with a sappy smile. The blissful pleasure similar to the buzz that comes with a good wine, your body is heavy but your mind is light.

“Doing just fine, Doctor…” You whisper out, nuzzling your cheek into his palm. A stark contrast from the top half to the latter of his palm, such a soft touch despite the surface being riddled with calluses. He felt just like how he looks– a bit rugged but just as gentle. Lee Jeno was an oxymoron personified, and you fear for your well being as the rest of this session goes. 

“Didn’t I tell you to call me by my name?” He reprimands you, a bit of a growl laced in his words. 

“Right,” You breathe out, painfully perceptive to his thumb that grazes against your bottom lip. Catching his hand with your own, lacing your fingers around the crook of his. “It felt amazing, Jeno.”

Jeno has had plenty of patients stretching near and far– many trying to pull moves on him. That isn’t to say he hasn’t found a few attractive people in his time in the office. But he knows better to engage in any sort of scandals that could bring any bad light to his reputation as a well renowned chiropractor. It was also natural for his patients to become a little lost in their heads after living with that pain for so long.

But when you don such a lost and dazed expression, Jeno realizes he might be in just a little bit of trouble.

Clearing his throat, he tries to carry on like normal. That proves to be difficult when he has to put you in quite a few compromising positions. Having to hug your body close when he lifts you up, plenty of cracks to show just how long you’ve deprived yourself of such basic luxuries. Using his strength to realign your spine in increments while you lay on your stomach.

He’s not a stranger to the grunts and groans of relief from the rest of his patients. Yet with each and every adjustment came a new sound. A stuttered gasp, an elongated groan, a screech in almost painful bliss– he wonders if you like being hurt. And when he has you laid on your side with his hand on the small of your back, an almost pornographic moan has him reeling in delight. Almost wanting to keep you for longer than he originally planned– to shut the blinds and lock the door, trying to remember if he still has that ‘DO NOT DISTURB’ sign that he has tucked away in his desk somewhere.

But again, he knows better. When he finishes off with popping your shoulders into place, he cranks his own neck. Taking extra care of you, treating you with the same sincerity as a flower in a field. He hadn’t realized that your time is minutes from cutting into his next patient. Sighing defeatedly, he has to cut it now. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” He pinches your nose when you refuse to wake up. Much too lost in your own wonderland, the irrational fear of a chiropractor snapping your neck too far dissipates into thin air. Every part of your body feels as light as a feather. Jeno grabs your forearm, the lack of resistance resembling that of a limp noodle, causing him to snort at your stubbornness to get out of his office. He thinks it wouldn’t be so bad if you were to stay a little longer.

“C’mon, wake up!” He laughs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to lift you onto your feet. Lifting you with little to no effort, like you weigh nothing. Strong arms surround you firmly, yet you feel a sense of security.  “Did I do that well?”

“Oh god,” You loll your head onto your shoulder, giving yourself a good stretch. It amazes you when you reach out high and not a single ache or crack follows. “I haven’t been this relaxed in years.”

Jeno’s sure he could make you feel even better if you’d let him, but it’s better to leave it at what you pay him for. “Glad to hear it,” His hands instinctively seek purchase on your shoulders, comfort being a second nature. Urging you towards the door, he doesn’t miss the pout that you don when you wobble like you’ve just learned to walk. “When will I see you again?”

You still have that half lidded gaze from being snapped like a twig, but it seems that you’ve come back to earth. “When’s your next available appointment?” You lean against the doorframe. 

He checks his calendar on his phone for any openings, he relays the options for you. “I’ve got an opening for Saturday next week, same time. Would you be interested?”

“Sign me up.” You answer. “I’ll see you then, Doc–” He’s grimacing at you before you can get the rest of the word in. Still not used to the informality, you huff before turning to take your leave. “I’ll see you next week, Jeno.”

“That’s what I like to hear. It was nice having you today.” He grins, waving you off before closing the door. When he hears Jisung bidding you goodbye and the chime of the bell to confirm that you’ve left the vicinity, he immediately rips his glasses off. Brushing his hair out of his face and rubbing at the prominent bridge of his nose.

He saw the way that you were ogling him when you had first entered. It was nothing new– the ladies young and old alike couldn’t get enough of him, and he definitely wasn’t oblivious to any of their advances. But when he thinks about all the ways he could bend and twist you over the furniture of his office, how he would be the reason you couldn’t walk, he comes to the realization– you were going to be a problem.

——

Saturday takes much too long to roll around, and fortunately for you Jeno contacts you no more than three days later for a cancellation. Your second appointment passed with flying colors. Jeno praises you for following the stretching regimen that he had provided you with, noting that your stiffness has already depleted exponentially. Chiropractic adjustment quickly becomes one of your favorite appointments of the week. Coming in with a smile on your face and stepping out and like a million bucks.

The same can’t be said for Jeno, however. While he’s sure that the attraction is mutual, you seem to be sending him mixed signals. Unsure if those moans are practiced or if he really evoked them from using his pure strength. Hell, he’s found himself hitting the gym even more than he already does, getting giddy when you take note of his progress.

“Have you been working out?”

“A little.” He smirks. “Why? Has it been paying off?”

“A little.” You mimic him with a subtle lick of your lips, giving his bicep an experimental squeeze. Jaw dropping at how hard the surface is. The muscle jumps when he unconsciously flexes beneath your touch.

That’s not all though. He’s noticed that you’ve gotten a bit too comfy in the time that you two have spent together. Your first visit you donned a plain workout tee paired with a baggy pair of sweats. But throughout your visits, t-shirts turn into tank tops, sweats turn into leggings, leggings turn into biker shorts– tops seeming to expose more and more of your stomach until he can see the lower curvature of your breasts.

“Oh, I forgot to mention it,” You say when Jeno pulls at your ankles, a pronounced ‘pop!’ successfully sounding around him. “Haechan was the one who recommended you to me.”

“Lee Haechan?” Jeno raises an eyebrow, the visual of the coconut headed brunette plagues his mind. Grimacing at how overbearing he can be. “Yeah, I know him.”

“I’m really glad he did,” You hum, that same damned expression that has been haunting him every night for the past few weeks. “You make me feel so good, Jeno.”

“You really need to be careful with what you say,” He tuts, appalled that such euphemisms fail to register. His voice lowering down to a low whisper, muttering under his breath. “I’m a guy, you know.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Lay on your tummy for me, now.”

Maybe it was the confidence that came with getting better posture. Maybe it was the fact that you were becoming more flexible after he suggested you should join the free yoga classes that your community has online. Whatever it was, it was becoming even more of a problem for not just him, but those around you too.

——

“You are an addict.” Haechan glares at you. “You’re a crack addict. You’re addicted to crack!”

Embarrassment floods your being when your coworkers take a peek at the commotion. Haechan’s choice of words certainly does not do your image any favors. You cover your face with a manila folder from your desk, not wanting to give any attention to your nuisance of a coworker. He wasn’t having it though, ripping away the barricade and getting close in on your face. 

“Wanna know how I know you’re a crack addict?” He corners you.

Diverting your attention from your project, you swivel your chair in his direction to entertain his antics. “Oh, pray tell Haechan. Tell me how you know that I’m addicted to getting adjustments.”

Pulling out his phone, he presents you with a photo of a package that was addressed to his home. Raising an unamused eyebrow, your question remains unanswered. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“It’s a free roomba that I won from a raffle,” Haechan starts. “Dr. Lee’s quarter-yearly raffle to be exact.”

“...Okay?”

“Every appointment that someone I’ve referred to him has, is another entry to the raffle. And in the three weeks–” He holds out three fingers. “That you’ve been seeing Dr. Lee, guess how many entries I’ve scored.”

You’re not exactly fond of the direction this is going in, growing a bit nervous as you’ve lost track of the many times you’ve swiped your card along the pin pad that stays with Jisung at the front desk. “How many…?”

Bringing a hand to his mouth, he obnoxiously coughs to clear his throat. “Sweetheart, you have seen him ten times in three weeks.”

“You’re lying.” You gasp.

Tapping on an email from Jeno himself, he flips the screen towards your face. The evidence in all its glory specifying how many entries he’s been given. “Read it and weep, babe.” He squats down to your height in your chair, whispering into your ear mischievously. “So, tell me the truth– is he actually realigning your spine? Or is he blowing your back out instead?”

“Haechan!” You slap at him harshly, growing flustered at such an accusation. You think you’ve done a good job at being discreet about your desire for Jeno, able to keep yourself at bay every night when your vibrator clears your dirty mind for you. “We have not fucked.” You cross your arms to emphasize your point. 

“Yet.” That childish grin grows. “Keep visiting him like that and it’s bound to end up like some cheesy porno.”

“We aren’t gonna fuck,” You shut him down. “That’s so unprofessional.” “Suit yourself.” Haechan shrugs, turning on his feet to leave you alone once again. Tending to give you a mental whiplash and leaving you to clean up the mess yourself. “I’m just saying– it’s actually been kind of hard to get an appointment with him lately. Much less multiple times in the same week.”

“It’s probably just because I’m a new patient and require more adjustment.” “Maybe so, but I’d look into that if I were you,” He bids you off with a wink. Greeting another female coworker who passed him by, returning his gesture with a wistful smile. The interaction causes your eye to twitch. You’re sorry for that poor girl– she has no idea how insufferable that man is. Turning back to you with a smug expression to gloat. “Thanks for the free roomba by the way!”

His last words have you pondering, unfortunately. Jeno does spend a great deal of time on you, and his rates are definitely generous enough for multiple visits to be feasible. Maybe there is something there. 

But it’s been a really long time since you’ve been physically intimate with anyone. You’re a bit jaded in your judgment, often pinning most people’s flirting and undivided attention as mere kindness. The prospect of being able to have Jeno actually want you as much as you think about him stirs something in your stomach, annoyingly girlish butterflies fluttering around like you’re in high school again.

Who knows? It wouldn’t hurt to try and push the limits a little. What’s the worst that could happen? 

——

You might’ve jumped the gun. Wearing the smallest and tightest skirt in your closet with no safety shorts underneath probably wasn’t the smartest decision. Regretting your decision and clamping your legs shut, when Jeno gives you a once over upon your arrival.

His expression was unreadable when you met at his desk. Jaw clenched unbearably tight, a hypocritical action as he’s advised you to refrain doing that on multiple occasions. Claiming that it was a main factor in the migraines you’ve vented to him about. 

“So,” He speaks first, his voice gruff when he tries to cut the tension. “It seems like your thoracic alignment has improved greatly in the past few weeks.” You nod, grateful despite the awkwardness of the situation. “I feel much better thanks to you."

“I’m glad that I was able to help,” He replies, the sentiment still there despite coming off aloof. Was there a vein popping out of his neck? “Anyways, I was thinking after this appointment, we could limit visits to maybe… Once a month?”

Haechan might’ve been onto something when he said that you were addicted. Itching to get cracked almost every other day of the week, thriving off of that high that’s akin to walking on clouds. To go cold turkey and only experience such a luxury once a week almost feels devastating.

You’re hesitant, but you have enough pride to not be so desperate as to object. “We can do that, I guess.” You deflate into the leather chair, feeling oddly petulant for your age. 

Hopefully Jeno doesn’t catch your dismissiveness. You assume so at least when he carries on like normal. Gesturing towards the drop bed as per usual, you follow him helplessly like a pied piper. Pulling your skirt down when it hikes up with every other step, you’re inwardly chastising yourself for being so dumb. Of course this would make him feel awkward. You were basically setting yourself up for the easiest wardrobe malfunction ever– the worst part being that it was completely deliberate. 

“You know the drill,” He says when you stand idle. Hesitant to do so, knowing that he’s going to get an all access view to the racy panties you wore today. When you take too long you feel anxious at how he hollows his cheeks, his tongue poking out impatiently at your lack of initiative. “What’s wrong?” 

People were usually one or the other: book-smart or street-smart. Not Lee Jeno, though. If the doctorate that hung loud and proud behind him wasn’t proof enough, he was also much too intuitive and introspective for his good. The emotional intelligence that most people lack was evident with every conversation the two of you shared during your visits. You knew better than to think he’d be oblivious to such a drastic change in your wardrobe, every outfit prior paling in comparison to the stunt you’ve pulled today.

And if the way he’s vented about the other patients he’s had that have made a pass at him was any indication that he hated unsolicited advances– you’ve basically set yourself for not just rejection, but a strained relationship with someone whose company you’ve grown to enjoy too. 

On second thought, limiting visits to once a month would be ideal. Hopefully he’ll forget about it and the two of you can act like nothing happened.

You can tell his patience wears thinner when he crosses his arms across his chest, hip leaned against the top of the bed. Chelsea boot clad foot tapping against the floor in a steady rhythm. Left with no other choice than to suck it up and embarrass yourself, you lift each leg over the bed as slowly as possible, hands clutching at the hem as you lay back with your stomach taut with fear.

At this point, it’s like clockwork. Your head falling back into those large palms without fail. Jeno is always tucking the stray hairs that obstruct your features behind your ear, glad that you always kept your eyes closed whenever he’s this near. 

“You’re tense.” Jeno mumbles.

You apologize and try to relax as much as possible. Relinquishing the tension in your neck so you’re weightless against him. Such pathetic attempts are futile however, Jeno tsk’ing at your lack of comprehension to his instructions. 

“Your shoulders,” His fingers slide down the expanse of your neck to the span of the offending body part. The smooth glide eliciting a ticklish tingle that now has every inch of you clenching, especially between your thighs. Snatching your shaky hands that are gripping onto your skirt for dear life with each of his own, forcing them to your side. “Let go.”

The strength that he exuded against your resistance was terrifying. Your heart pounding against your chest erratically, fighting your hardest to shoo away the thought of him taking you right where you lay. 

Now that there’s nothing that stands in Jeno’s way, he carries on. Fighting a battle of his own, anything he looks at causing a problem downstairs. Look too high and he’s met with your twitching thighs. Look too low and the top of your chest is free residence. And trail even lower, your eyes are shut tight. Bottom lip caught between your teeth nervously, you almost look dumb. No, you do– but he thinks it’s so cute.

So cute and free for the taking. The height of his rolling chair leaves the top of your head right between his legs, close to his growing crotch. He thinks about how he could just unzip right now and sneak his cock right between those gorgeous lips. They’re a different shade than usual, and he loves how it looks on you. Was that another part of this little ploy of yours? 

Twisting your neck from side to side, the cacophonous snaps are accompanied by that sweet gasp. Inhaling a sharp bout of air when his grip on your neck is harsher than usual, fingertips digging into you even deeper than before. “Does it hurt…?” He croons, unable to control the grin that forms when he grazes down your forearms.

“A… a little,” You’re squeamish at the flicks of fire that his touch leaves behind, prickles of pleasure going off like bombs in a land mine. 

“Oh, poor baby,” He fakes sympathy, now roaming freely around your entire being, save for the spots you need him the most. “It’s because you don’t listen to me. I told you to let go.”

“I do listen to you.” You weakly protest, upset with yourself for displeasing him. A need to satisfy when you look up at him fondly, proving yourself that you can follow what he says.

“I don’t think you do,” He retorts coldly, returning a bleak expression that’s unlike the warm Jeno you’ve grown familiar with in the past few weeks. “I can tell you’ve been neglecting yourself. Have you still been stretching? You’re so… stiff. Do I have to loosen you up? Maybe we do need to keep seeing each other.” 

Such crude words stir unspeakable feelings in your lower half, now squirming against him when you try to flee from his hold. “Jeno, I–”

He doesn’t allow you to finish whatever senseless gibberish you had to say. Squishing your cheeks shut, his chest now flush against your back. Prominent nose now at the nape of your neck. Inhaling profusely, the mixture of your perfume and shampoo has him grunting in a sensory overload. 

“Just be quiet,” He spits. 

A single finger trails from where his lips are located at your nape, all the way down your spine. Admiring his work like an artist who has just created their magnum opus based off of their muse. Every vertebrae perfectly aligned, your back smooth beneath his touch. It was a lie– you took great care of yourself, everything from your posture to your confidence improving vastly. But while he had good intentions, you walking in with that skimpy outfit utterly destroyed his original plan of keeping your relationship strictly professional.

While he was able to build you to his flawless image, it gives him a surge of power to know that he can just as easily break you. 

He wants to. 

“Lay on your stomach.” He demands. A complete contrast to the kind guidance he typically provides, not helping his own case when he slides his arms under your abdomen. Flipping you over when you take too long to do as he says. Gasping at how quickly he tosses you, remorseless when you yelp out in surprise. 

His grip immediately seeks purchase on your back, maniacal when he continues the appointment like usual. The cold air conditioning hitting the crease of your bottom. Your eyes widen when you realize that your skirt has rode high enough for your ass to be exposed to Jeno’s wandering gaze. Wrists are immediately slapped away with a stinging pain when you try to protect your modesty. “No!” You scream.

“What did I say?” He pinches the inside of your thigh, taunting you for more of that sweet cry when he hurts you more. “See? You really don’t listen. I’ve warned you so many times, and look where that’s gotten you. Can’t you just be a good girl for me?”

“I already am!” You talk back, squealing when he smacks your exposed ass. “Fuck– Jeno!”

“I don’t think you are,” He scoffs, kneading the flesh that’s already forming a bruise from the slap. “Good girls don’t walk around with their asses out like little sluts.”

This mental flashbang of such a cruel Jeno paired with unrelenting caresses has a bout of wetness seeping from your core. Back arching pathetically when the aftershock travels to your clit. Biting your cheek when he laughs at your compromised position. Having to pull himself away from his desires for just a moment, remembering that you were here to be adjusted.

“See how bad you are for me? You made me forget what I was supposed to be doing.” His cadence now completely riddled with saccharine. “Let me take care of you, baby.”

Jeno has taken the words out your mouth. Physically incapable of forming a complete sentence, still in too much shock. Hands coming up to the top of your back, carrying on his adjustments much more harshly. One crack after another, that same air that fills your brain that you thrive off of. Moaning out in pleasure at the relief he provides. Both an angel and a devil with his hands.

“See?” He bends over, pulling your blouse down from your back to expose your shoulder blade. Laving his tongue against you before nipping at the crook of your jaw. Kissing whatever skin that your blouse will reveal. “If this is how obscenely you act when I’m just doing my job, I wonder how much louder you get when I do what I want.”

“What do you want?” You gasp out when he hikes your shirt up, now traveling down only to come back up, licking a fat stripe from the bottom all the way back up. Your hands grip into the sides of the drop bed, nails scratching crescents into the faux black leather. 

“Don’t be dense,” He grunts out while ripping your blouse over your head. Disposing of the material carelessly, meeting the fine slope of your back with an insatiable lust. The clasp of your lacy bra resembles a ribbon on top of a Christmas present. He unclasps it, eager to unwrap his gift. So close to achieving perfection, he loses himself to his desires. Mounting himself above you, a confined cock that feels massive now grinding between your thighs. He enjoys the struggle when you pathetically try to kick and squirm. “You know what I want.”

You do, and you know that you want it just as badly. Both day and night dreams of Jeno ravaging you with his brute strength. Marking you as his and bending you to close to impossible positions. Drooling at the thought of being fucked on every corner of his office loud enough to break the interior of the soundproof walls.

When you fall slack beneath him, he proceeds to strip you of your skirt. Still appalled by how lecherous you could be. The fall from grace as the friendly office lady to the woman he’s wanted to fuck senseless becoming a bane to his existence. 

“Please, Jeno…” You beg of him. Wanting him to do something, anything to satiate this new ache. Compared to the back pains you’ve experienced in the past, Jeno’s inflicted a new problem for you. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He coos.

“H-hurts,” You sniffle, unable to cope with not being full of him. “I need you to fix it.”

“Hm, what hurts?”

A full set of teeth form into the most devilish grin when you reach behind you, taking his hand into yours and guiding it to your sopping pussy, urging him to feel around the seat of the destroyed fabric. Panties now ruined to the point it sticks into your folds, thighs twitching wantonly. It was degrading. To be close to completely naked under a fully clothed man, yet you couldn’t help but love it. “Here… hurts here.”

“And what do you want me to do about it?” 

“I need you, Jeno,” You practically sob. “Need you to fix it.”

As practitioner and patient, he had sworn long ago to provide his clientele with the best service. That applies now more than ever. Your wish was his command, and he plans on delivering on that tenfold. 

Climbing down your body, he stops past your ankles. Gripping at your panties and sliding them down your legs, growling at your glistening lips that shine bright under the white ceiling lights. Finding your ass once again and parting them for good measure, groaning when your cheeks jiggle back into position upon letting them go. “Gorgeous, beautiful body,” He praises you, fingers immediately darting towards your folds to give them an experimental flick, reeling at how easily you flinch under him. “And so fucking sensitive, too.”

Pushing up at your thighs, he has you in a downward dog, knees planted firmly on the drop bed and your back bent for him. Jeno’s hand sneaks around your belly and down your lower region, index and middle slotting around your clit. 

“Ahh–,” You gasp out loud, clasping a hand over your mouth at the attention to your most sensitive nerve. Wetting the tips of his fingers between your folds, traveling back instantly to caress circles into the nub. Lips coming down to the base of your back once again, already knowing many of your erogenous zones through the subtle fondling from your past visits. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?” He hums, pecking smooches down your ass. A one track mind to inhale your heady scent for himself.

“So good, fuck–!” Toppling over when he brings that same fat tongue to the center of your core, coated in spit when he shakes his head from side to side. Eating you out from the back with a vice, his two fingers still unrelenting against your clit. Pushing at your button and the tip of his appendage fighting to break past the barrier, succeeding with only little resistance. Eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel him against your walls, shameless slurping as your wetness trickles down his throat. “Oh my fucking god.”

“Tastes so good, baby.” He rasps, breaking away for a moment of breath. Replacing his tongue with the fingers that were attacking your clit. Wrapping his other arm around your thigh to keep you from falling off, entertained at how you pathetically try to support yourself by planting your head into your forearms. Tummy sucking in and gasping for breath when he finds your g-spot with embarrassing ease. Almost as if your body was made for him to navigate.

“So spoiled,” He shakes his head at your incessant moaning, not surprised that he was right on the money to think you’d be such a whiny bitch. “Pretty girl acts like a slut to get fucked and she gets what she wants. You’re lucky this cunt makes up for it.”

When you turn to look behind you, you’re met with a gaze devoid of anything but a need to fuck and claim, locked onto your pussy like it was the only thing he knew in this world. His lips slick with your juices, hair a brazen mess that poked in several directions– the epitome of sex. Your desires personified into a single being.

Catching the way you ogle him, he snickers at your dumbfounded face. Amping up the intensity of his finger fucking, his palm slapping against your core with every meeting of the hilt to your entrance. Fucked out gazes lock onto one another, and he needs to make it known that you don’t hold a candle to him. Opening his mouth to make a show of lolling his tongue out, coming back to get a taste of your puckered rim.

“Wait, Jeno, not there!” You claw at his hair, grappling harshly against his scalp. The burn causes him to wince, features scrunching yet remaining adamant on tasting every part of your body. Pinning you down at your back, you’re now unable to fight him when your chest falls completely flat. Your other arm rendered useless as it’s your anchor to keep you from completely toppling over. Despite your protests, the circles that he draws with his pink muscle has you singing contradictory praises.

That knot at the core of your abdomen constricts, losing autonomy over your body and granting Jeno complete control. Features twisting to euphoria when he reaches lengths further with his fingers than past partners have with their own cocks. And when he’s able to break past the barrier of your tightest barrier of your upper hole and he flicks at the spongy wall inside, your vision goes white.

A broken cry crashes along the four walls, droplets of sticky wetness decorating Jeno from the bridge of his nose to the top of his collarbones. Immediately breaking away from you to focus on fingering you until you’ve given him all of your cum. Jaw dropped wide open as he tries to catch every bout of squirt. Nails scratching at his scalp and lacing into the strands for stability, the pain only aiding in the ache of his restrained cock. The stuffing of the leather now seeping out from how deeply you’ve scratched against it, its wood frame misaligned with the weight that Jeno had planted on top of you. 

Your body is limp when your orgasm subsides, aftershocks still causing you to jolt when Jeno gives your pussy a light slap. 

“Best orgasm of your life, huh?” He gloats, cleaning off the remaining stickiness on his face with the back of his hand. Bringing his wrist that’s adorned by a Rolex up to his knuckles. Your essence now etched into every one of his senses. You lay almost lifeless and without a response. A pathetic sight that causes Jeno to scowl, offended that you could even think that he was done with you. 

Still trying to catch your breath, you hear a ghost of a whisper, metal clanking and clothes rustling. When you muster up the energy, you catch Jeno in your peripheral. Unbuttoning his black dress shirt and unbuckling his belt, the brand name material slipping from his clutches. The metal of the buckle clanking against the floor, his exposed collarbones shining with perspiration and your cum.

He circles around the bed to meet you, looking down at you with a snide smile when you realize that he’s now shirtless. It was true, he really did have visuals sculpted by the Gods. Broad shoulders on top of a pronounced chest, slimming down to a lean waist. 

 Slowly unzipping his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers. Finally revealing his cock in all of its glory, monstrous in size. Long and girthy, the biggest you’ve ever encountered. Slapping against his stomach and his precum covered tip meeting his bellybutton. It’s almost terrifying, there’s no way you could ever take him.

As if he’s read your mind, he cups your face sweetly like he’s done plenty of times before– yet it holds more of a threatening aura than any positive reinforcements. “Don’t be scared. I’ll make sure it fits.” He murmurs, loving how you instinctually take his thumb into your mouth.

When he leaves your wet cavern, he grabs at the base of his cock and places it just below your lips. “Spit.” He instructs, leaving no room for objection.

Dropping a thick glob of saliva, he immediately bobs it up and down to coat it along his length. A significant amount of precum aiding him even further in lubrication. The mix of fluids riddling the room with the pungent smell of sex. You’re both inebriated off of the prospect of what’s about to occur next.

Biceps are angled deliciously when he bends down to wrap his arms around your waist, flipping you back onto your back. A shadow of your sweet doctor fading in when he climbs on top of you once again, despite how beautifully he glows. You two nod at each other when he lines himself up with your core, thankful for the pool that has formed between your thighs. 

“Breathe for me, alright?” He says. It takes a great deal to control himself, wanting nothing more than to plunge into you in one go. Regardless, he controls his urges. His tip enters you slowly, the both of you gasping in unison at the newfound pleasure. Weeks of mixed signals now coming to fruition with every inch he goes deeper. “God, you’re fucking tight.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Jeno was so thick that it felt like he was splitting you in half, parting your walls and filling up every crevice inside. Each inch gives you a sense of fulfillment when you earn his praises. Showering you with compliments, affirming how good you’re making him feel and how wet you are.

“That’s my good little slut,” Jeno groans into your hair. Delivering a quick kiss to your ear before licking up the shell, hoping it distracts you from the strain. He stills after bottoming out, merely rutting around in place of fucking you mercilessly. Taking a moment to relish in the way your pussy encapsulates his cock, coating him with your sticky arousal to the point it leaks out.

Pain quickly fades into blissful pleasure. Cupping his jaw to urge him to look at you, you feel your chest burn at his handsome face. His ruined hair still looks perfect when it falls over his forehead messily, lips red and swollen from all he’s done to you. “I’m okay now, you can move.” You confirm, and the shift in his demeanor lets you know that you don’t have to tell him twice.

He starts with a few experimental thrusts, watching you closely and seeing what spots make you tick. Noting that you like when he puts power into his thrusts. Gripping the frame of the cushion your head rests on, he lifts himself to pull out until it’s only the tip that connects you. Granting you maybe a second of peace before immediately plunging back down, causing you to screech out in euphoria. 

From there, everything is fair game. Bodies slapping against one another when he grips your ankles and spreads them apart. Fucking you with purpose, everything from his hairline to his abs are covered in sweat. The shine makes his skin glow gold, every taut muscle accentuated by the perspiration. 

While your pussy is a delight and has him throwing his head back, he still has so many fantasies that he wants to fulfill. Releasing your ankles, your legs plop down weakly. Pulling out of you and leaving you empty, causing you to shriek at the loss. Scrambling to sit up when he stands up, trying to grab at his cock to lead him back inside. “No, no, no–!”

Nothing could have prepared you for when he lifts you up from the bed with nothing more than a grunt, delivering another stinging slap when you scream at him. Slapping at his shoulders to let you down even if your body betrays you by wrapping your legs around his waist. Traveling only a few paces, he slams you against the nearest wall. Framed photos and contents in bookshelves shaking, gasping out when he realigns his cock with your entrance.

When he dons a blank expression, as if wondering what to do next, you furrow your eyebrows together. Pussy still empty and in need of being filled, you whine. “Jeno, hurry, please.”

He doesn’t thrust up into you however, instead he plants you down onto his cock. Using his pure arm strength to lift you up and down like a fuckdoll. His forearms blazing with bulging veins. Your back is burning as it scrapes against the wall deliciously. Amazed at such fortitude, you continue to cry out when he hits that spot inside you with precision each time. A babbling mess when your chests collide and he licks up the salty tears that you’ve shed, laughing into your ear mischievously.

“I hope you know that nobody will ever be able to fuck you like this,” He laughs out, grip on your ass spreading the cheeks apart to accentuate his point. “No matter who you find in the future– they’ll never be as good as me. You know that right, baby?” 

You bob your head to agree with whatever you caught from his sentence, stroking his ego just the way he likes. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t formulate your own thoughts at this point. Much like the slight high you experience whenever Jeno had adjusted you before, your head light and empty– you now feel it at its utmost potential. Unable to control your body when a trail of spit leaks out of the corner of your chin.

Jeno stares at you fondly, arms growing just a tad tired. He transfers the effort into his legs, planting his weight into his calves to stabilize you. Allowing for one of your legs to fall to go even deeper, your other thigh still folded in. Holding your head with his hand, he knows you’ve floated into another state of being, your pussy unconsciously clasping around him every time he angles just right.

“What a dumb, pretty baby,” He practically sings, utterly in awe at how fucked out he’s gotten you. Licking off the drool from your lip with the intent to clean you up nicely. Dropping your leg that’s hiked up, he lifts you once again. Now leading you to his desk, letting you down only to bend you over. “Let’s finish together, okay?”

Moaning out something that sounded like a yes, he takes what he can get when he reenters you for the third time. Eyes fluttering shut when you surround him once again. “Think this pussy might be the death of me.” He grunts.

“Your cock is soo good,” You mewl, your breasts cool against the mahogany of his desk. Seeking sanctuary by grabbing onto whatever trinkets or paperweights that litter the surface. The back of your thighs aching from trying to keep up with Jeno’s relentless pace. “So, so, big.”

“Yeah?” He lifts a sweat dripped brow, pistoning his hips with generosity. Taking care of his patient will always be his top priority. Fingers meeting your clit one last time, swiping at it with ease from how wet it is. “Cum for me now, baby. You earned it. Did so well for me.”

Clenching his thighs, he fucks into you one last time. Pushing into your body with his own so forcefully that you ride up the desk. One last cry to the empty vicinity, nothing registers except for Jeno. His scent, how he feels, those hands that have gotten you into so much trouble– he really fucked you so good. So good that all you know at the moment is his name. Your orgasm washing over you, pussy clenching impossibly tightly he roars. More squirt shooting out of you, a sticky mess falling onto the carpet floor of his office.

In a few more self indulgent thrusts of his own, Jeno pulls out completely. Pumping himself no more than two times before his cum flies out. Bobbing up and down to get out every last drop of creamy white, painting your beautiful back with his liquid. Harsh gasps are paired with your patternless pants, the both of you were spent.

Jeno decides to utilize the last of his energy for good. Lifting you up once again and walking towards the comfortable loveseat that rests in the corner of the room. The sticky fluids aren't much of a problem while you catch your breaths. He wraps his arms around to hold you in his lap, your head resting against his chest. Rubbing circles into your neck and whispering sweet praises, waiting patiently for you to come back to earth.

“You okay?” He asks when your eyelids flutter up slowly, that shine back in your face to let him know that you’ve recovered. “Lost you there for a little bit.” He teases, pinching at your cheek playfully.

“Oh, shut up.” You pitifully try to push him away, much to no avail. Flashing you a charming grin that rivals the sun itself. “I knew that chiropractors were quacks.”

“Not my fault you’re hot as fuck.”

“I said ‘shut uup’,” You whine, dropping your head into his shoulder to give yourself more time to recuperate. “Let me rest. I think you’ve somehow caused more damage to my back than heal it.”

It’s obvious that you’re overexaggerating, but Jeno can’t help but accept the backhanded compliment with pride. Admiring the relaxed smile you try to hide from him, he pats your hair that’s sticking up back down.

“Guess we’ll just have to keep seeing each other then.” He replies, falling into a slumber himself.

——

“So.”

“So?”

“We’re okay right?” You tilt your head curiously, now fully rested and cleaned up. Jeno having to rush the both of you to the staff only bathroom when Jisung left for break, a few scanty touches here and there. 

Hands lodged into his pockets, Jeno is even more handsome with the afterglow of sex. You hope you’re at least a fraction as presentable as he is. “If you’re okay, I’d say we’re just peachy. However–”

“Oh god.” You dread the worst case scenario of being blacklisted and having to find another chiropractor.

“Will you let me finish?” He glowers at you, making you shut up immediately. Now that you know that Lee Jeno is not to be messed with. “Anyways,” He continues. “I think you deserve a treat for being so good.”

Taking his right hand out of his pocket, he presents you with a business card. A complete contrast to the simplicity of Jeno’s, a completely black square with red accents. Before you get a chance to read what’s written, he speaks again. “That’s my colleague here at the complex. He’s actually right across the hall.”

Now given the opportunity, you find that Jeno has referred you to a nail bar. “And what is this treat you’re offering?”

“Well, if you’re ever interested in getting a manicure or pedicure, you’ll want to go to him. He’s the best in town. Nobody does nail art like him,” He chuckles. “Let me know if you’re interested. I’ll ask him to give you a discount.”

If there’s anything you’ve learned from these past few weeks, it’s that investing in yourself a little goes a long way. Spending too much time worried about necessities that require minimal maintenance, you’ve forgotten to indulge yourself along the way. Looking down at your nail beds whose cuticles you’ve failed to tend to, you take Jeno’s offer into consideration.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” You give him your warmest smile. “Can I ask you something though?”

“Go for it.”

“Haechan told me it’s been hard to schedule with you recently, but I’ve been seeing you pretty often.” You try to phrase it as humbly as possible, not wanting to come off as arrogant. “Is there a reason for that?” 

“I mean, you did need more adjustment than my other patients who have been long time regulars. But I guess I got a little ahead of myself.” He boxes his nose, and for the first time ever you think you’ve caught Dr. Lee Jeno’s cool exterior slipping. “You have a really nice ass.”

“Thanks.” You deadpan. “You have nice arms– and legs, and a really nice… nevermind.”

Shaking his head at you, he walks you out when you take your leave. Bidding you adieu with a friendly pat, the both of you thankful that the heated sex hasn’t obstructed your relationship as patient and doctor at all.

You reach high into the sky, feeling like you’re at your absolute best. Wondering what else you can do to improve your state of being. Thinking back to the business card that you had pocketed, you locate the other door adjacent to Jeno’s. Much to his description, there is a sign that indicates that there is very much a beauty salon on the other side of that door.

Shrugging to yourself, you decide you’ll sleep on his offer. Making your way to the front desk to find Jisung eating away at his meal. You realize you’ve already grown fond of how this business is run. 

“Come back and see us!” Jisung waves at you, to which you return with equal enthusiasm. “Hope to see you again soon!”

You realize it’s inevitable when you exit the front lobby and step out into the parking lot. The large Neo Therapy Practitioners sign standing proud at the awning above you, the new business card taking up space in your purse–

You’ll be seeing them alright.

end (☺) -> next

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author’s note: if you made it all the way here, thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it. 

i really want to thank panty nonnie who i’ve been in contact with through dms and have grown very close with in the past month. they’ve been an absolute angel and i couldn’t have gotten over my writer’s block without them. so, if you’re reading this (again hehe) just know that you’re the best and am more than grateful for all you’ve done for me. <3