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briefinquiries · 6 months ago

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Tyler Owens x Reader: You Look Like You Love Me

Request: "I wondered if you could do a Tyler Owens fic where it’s the end of the day and everyone’s exhausted from chasing all day and stuff. Readers just gotten out of the shower and is in her sleep dress, hair wet and decides to join all the storm chasers/ the team out by the bonfire so she throws one of Tyler’s flannels on, puts her boots on and goes to find Tyler and once she does there’s a slow song that comes on the speaker (I feel like they’d have music playing that the whole parking lot can hear) and it just ends with them slow dancing by the fire looking into each others eyes and talking about their future, JTyler just has this look on his face knowing he is going to marry this woman one day<3"

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

A/N: thanks for the request, this was such a cute idea / fun plot to write :) Enjoy!!

“You comin’?” Tyler asked, giving your hand a slight squeeze and nodding towards the group of people already clustered around the fire.

You offered a small smile, which was about all you were capable of after the long day you’d had.

“I’m really tired,” you explained. “Think I’m just gonna grab a shower then crash.”

You didn’t miss the look of disappointment that flashed across his face. But it was quickly replaced by a gentle nod. “Course, let me just grab our stuff, then I’ll head up.”

“No, you stay,” you encouraged him, nodding towards the group. “This is right up your alley, don’t miss out because I’m a tired slug.”

Tyler tipped his head to the side affectionately. “You’re about the cutest tired slug I think I’ve ever seen,” he said in a tone that was far too serious for the context.

You shook your head, lips tugging into a grin as you pulled your hand away from his to adjust the bag slung over your shoulder. “Shut up,” you mumbled adoringly before nodding towards the fire. “Look, they have music goin’. Why don’t you go slow dance with Boone or something?”

“Yeah alright,” Tyler agreed, taking a step backwards. His tongue poked through his teeth in the same way that, even after almost two years together, still made your stomach flip. “I’ll be up in a little while.”

“Have fun,” you called before he turned and began walking towards where everyone else had gathered.

Meanwhile, you had the pleasure of trudging up a flight of stairs to get to the room Tyler had booked for the night. After nearly eight hours of driving that day, the muscles in your legs felt wobbly as you made the ascent. But when you finally were able to climb into the room’s shower– the warm water rinsing off all the dirt and sweat you’d acquired for the day, you sighed out a breath of relief.

Although you appreciated how good it felt, you didn’t waste time in the shower. Instead, you quickly lathered up your hair, rinsed it out, and scrubbed yourself clean before grabbing a towel from the rack and drying off. Before long, you had your wet hair combed out, pajamas on, and were crawling into the queen bed positioned in the center of the room. You climbed in with full intentions of passing out without a second thought.

However, to your absolute dismay, that wasn't the case. Instead, you tossed and turned, almost nodding off– but then reaching for someone that wasn't there yet. Eyes snapping open, you sighed defeatedly. It wasn’t uncommon for you to have a hard time sleeping without Tyler. But with how exhausted you felt, you’d been hopeful.

You laid there for about half an hour before giving up. You were just growing increasingly frustrated and knew that no amount of laying there without him was going to work.

So instead, you climbed out of bed, grabbed Tyler’s flannel, which laid conveniently at the top of your bag and threw your boots back on. Your hair was still damp when you left the room. Luckily the June air was warm– even after the sun had gone down. As you climbed back down the stairs, noise from the fire and people gathered filled your ears. You heard music coming through a nearby speaker and the collective murmuring and laughter from each conversation blurring together in a loud hum.

As you approached the crowd, it didn’t take long before you spotted Tyler and the rest of the crew. He was sitting back in a camp chair, dimples on full display as he laughed at something Lilly was saying in the chair next to him. Boone was crouched on the sand, knees tucked into his chest while he used a stick to poke at the fire. Dani was kicked back in an adirondack chair, sipping casually on a beer. Meanwhile, Dexter was nowhere to be seen– presumably already gone to bed for the night.

Wrapping his flannel tighter yourself, you began weaving your way through the crowd of people and towards him. Tyler spotted you after only a moment, like his eyes were born to find you in a crowd. At first his gaze was worried, eyebrows knitting together in a look of concern.

“There she is!” Boone announced your arrival like your own personal cheerleader.

You offered a smile and mumbled a weak hello before heading right for Tyler.

“Hey baby,” he said. He moved like he was going to get up, but before he could, you walked to his side and plopped yourself down across his knees. Instantly, his hand found your waist while you wrapped your arms around his neck, nestling your face into the crook of his shoulder.

“Everything okay?” he murmured, lips lingering along your hairline. He ran a hand up your back soothingly.

You nodded, inhaling the scent of him. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah,” Tyler said, already knowing that what you really meant was, just couldn’t sleep without you. “We can head up, if you want. Let me grab my stuff.”

But you shook your head. Pulling away from him long enough to watch the scene around you. “No, it’s nice out here. Let’s stay a little longer.”

You felt his lips connect with your temple. “Whatever you want, baby.”

“Did you and Boone get to slow dance?” you asked, a hint of playfulness evident in your tone.

Tyler snorted. “No, we hadn’t gotten the chance yet.”

“Shame,” you muttered groggily. “You’re such a good dancer.”

“Well you know I’d much prefer to dance with you.”

“Hey,” Boone piped in. “Now see? I know y’all are the world’s cutest couple and all that bullshit. But that right there very much hurts my feelings, T.”

You both laughed at his antics.

“Sorry, Boone,” Tyler said. “You’ve got tough competition.”

“Aw, c’mon Boone,” Lilly said. “Don’t let them get to ya. Dani and I will dance with you– c’mon.”

Together, the three of them got up and joined the crowd of people dancing, leaving you and Tyler alone.

“Alright, Owens,” you said, mustering up the strength to climb off his lap. “Our turn. Show me what kind of dance moves you got.”

He let you drag him towards a quieter part of the lawn. Using one hand, Tyler gripped your waist and pulled you close. With the other, he cupped your hand to hold out from him. Gently, he began swaying you back and forth to the beat of the song.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever told me who taught you to dance,” you observed.

“My mom,” he replied softly. His green eyes sparkled– the same way they did anytime he talked about his mom.

“I’d never wanted to go to any of the school dances– never had an interest. I was always workin’ the farm or out with friends. But in my junior year of high school, I was trying to impress this girl. Her name was Sally Wakefield– so, I bought us a coupla’ tickets to the prom without even asking her first.”

“What?” you laughed.

“I know, I know–” he said. “I got the order a little backwards there. Anyway, I went to my mom and told her I had a date to the prom and that I had to learn how to dance before. So, we spent an entire weekend in the living room. She had me push all the furniture– the couch and table and all the chairs, to the side and make a little dance floor. She put her Elton John records on repeat and that's how I learned to dance.”

“That’s really sweet,” you smiled, just imagining teenage-Tyler slow dancing in the living room with his mom.

“Yeah, well it didn’t end so sweet. I asked Sally Wakefield to prom the next Monday at school and she laughed in my face,” he chuckled. “So all that hard work went right to waste.”

You scoffed. “Fuck Sally Wakefield.”

“I actually ran into her at the market a few years back– she was really nice. She’s married, has a few kids now..”

“It was for cathartic effect, Tyler. But if you insist– fuck high-school version of Sally Wakefield.”

“Oh–” he nodded. “Right. Yeah, fuck high school Sally Wakefield.”

“Plus,” you added, melting a little inside as soon as your eyes connected with his. “I don’t think all that hard work went to waste. I, for one, really enjoy dancing with you.”

His face beamed as he gazed down at you softly. “Remember that night we went line dancin’ when we were down in Austin?”

You let out a bubble of laughter as you leaned into his embrace. “Oh my God, and Boone slipped on the lemonade that lady spilled–”

Tyler chuckled. “Him and his beer went flyin’.”

“I swear I have never seen a human being hit the ground that hard,” you said through your laughter.

“Me either–”

“Remember when we went to your cousin's wedding– and they had that live band and an entire dance floor and we were like… the only people using it? Everyone else just stayed at their tables.”

Tyler shook his head. “Still can’t believe that.”

“Yeah, I mean ninety-five degrees or not… if I go to a wedding, I’m dancing.”

“What about your wedding?” Tyler asked suddenly, gaze softening as he peered down at you.

Something in your chest fluttered. It wasn’t the first time Tyler had mentioned weddings or marriage, but every time he did, it pleasantly reminded you that you two were in this for the long haul.

“What about my wedding?” you said, trying to sound casual.

“Will there be lots of dancing at your wedding?”

You pulled back gently from Tyler’s embrace, just enough so that you could get a better look at him. You marveled at how handsome he really was– especially under the soft, flickering glow from the fire.

“Of course there’ll be dancing– lots of it. I wouldn’t want all your mom’s hard work to go to waste now would I?”

Tyler’s swaying slowed as he took a moment to really study you. His gaze was soft and sweet and intimate all at once. Unable to help yourself, your face broke out into an even wider grin.

“What?” he wondered.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, biting your lip. “You’re just lookin’ at me like you love me. And that makes me smile.”

Tyler beamed. “I love you so much– you know that, right?”

Without even hesitating you nodded. “Course I do,” you replied, leaning your head against his chest and allowing him to tighten his hold on you. “I love you, too.”

For a few more minutes, the two of you swayed casually to the music. Tyler’s embrace was safe and warm and comforting, and the longer you danced like that, the more tired you became.

“Think we’ll see anything tomorrow?” you yawned sleepily into his shirt. You felt his cheek rest on top of your head, nestling you into the crook of his neck.

Tyler clicked his tongue above you. “I don’t think so. Dexter wasn’t tracking anything on the radar, but you never know.”

“What if we just had a slow day tomorrow? We could just sleep in and hang out here for another day? I saw they had a pool out back– that’d keep Boone entertained.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” he said. “I think we could make that work.”

You smiled against his skin, eyelids growing heavier and heavier. Gradually, you began leaning more and more of your weight against him, until finally, he gave your back a gentle rub.

“Let’s say you and I head up to the room, yeah?”

You nodded against him, too tired to reply.

“There we go,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You leaned into his side, letting him guide the way. He called goodnight to everyone for you before practically carrying you up the flight of stairs towards the room.

When you were finally inside, Tyler helped you climb into bed. You frowned when he didn’t immediately follow. Instead, you watched him head into the bathroom and close the door.

With how tired you were– you were surprised you didn’t fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. But the longer you laid there without Tyler, the more awake you felt.

After only a few short minutes, he emerged from the bathroom and crossed the room quietly.

“You’re not asleep yet?” he asked, peeling back the covers and climbing into bed beside you. “Thought you’d be snorin’ by the time I came back.”

Without replying, you scooted across the bed until you were wrapped back up in his embrace. You felt arms wound around your waist, anchoring you to him. You smelled his aftershave and mouthwash as you nuzzled into his chest. You heard the sound of his heartbeat, even through the fabric of his T-shirt. His presence totally engulfed all of your senses– and you knew that was exactly how it should be.

As you finally drifted off, all you knew was Tyler, Tyler, Tyler.

And what a wonderful thing to know.

#tyler owens fic #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens imagine #twisters fic #tyler owens x reader imagine #twisters imagine #tyler owens fanfic #tyler owens x you #twisters fanfic #tyler owens

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poguehearted77 · 3 months ago

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After Hours

summary: Rafe lets his jealousy get the best of him and it pisses you off, but he makes it up to you after hours.

"Y/n, he's doing it again" Carly whispers over your shoulder as you work on drying off the bar glasses and putting them back on the shelf. You sigh on the outside but your insides warm at the thought of Rafe staring at the back of your figure. This is how it always goes.

He always wants to see you, claiming he can't get enough while you pull away, dedicated to your job. So Rafe decides why not kill two birds with one stone and come see you at work.

Unfortunately, wherever Rafe goes, his posse follows, and considering they're notorious party animals, they can't seem to hold their liquor. "Hey, Let's get another round goin' over here!" Topper shouts, words slurred and eyes heavy-lidded. Anyone within a mile radius could hear the cheers that came from their table at the announcement, and it made you dread going over there, but it's your job.

Not that you hated where you worked, it was right in the heart of figure eight, not too far from where you lived and it pays well most days, but drunk kooks pay even better.

As you walked over with a tray of shots, their hollers grew louder in volume and the environment made you nervous. Not because of the noise at their table, but because of the silence that Rafe held as you placed everything down.

His quiet, blue gaze lingered over your curves as you smiled at the boys. "Wow, you're just too pretty to be working at this hour. How about you pull up a chair and join us?" Topper's hand gently holds your upper arm and Rafe finally speaks up.

Prompted by a flare of jealousy, "Get your hands off her, Top." Rafe's voice overpowers the table to a still silence that even startled you. Topper immediately moves his hand as Kelce 'Oohs'. "Shit man, my bad." He apologizes. Rafe sends you an apologetic glance that you ignore before hastily collecting your tray and returning to the bar.

But it was too late. You were already upset.

The bar had just let out its last customer and you worked on wiping down the tables, most of the lights off and the blinds shut. Some street lights managed to seep through the cracks in the shutters which left golden shadows on the black marble countertops.

It takes a knock on the door to finally pull your head up from the task on hand where you are locking eyes with Rafe on the other side of the glass. You stepped towards the door, not unlocking it.

Your arms crossed and your expression conveyed what he already knew. "Open the door." Voice muffled but you still hear him loud and clear, you huff, knowing he would break the door down if he needed to. You opened it.

"You know I'm not a fucking child, right Rafe?" You sneer, and he locks the door behind him. "I know that. I just hate seeing other guys hit on you. It does things to me- shit makes me just wanna-" his expression contorts, unable to describe the emotion.

"I know, but you gotta trust me. You think I like when that bitch Holly from the yacht club has her hands on you? No, but I trust you." You throw the cloth down on the bar.

Watching as Rafe rounded the island to be on your side, finger under your chin and tilting your head up to look at him. His stone-cold blue eyes run warm as he grins down at you, "I don't give a fuck what Holly does, cuz at the end of the day all I'm thinkin' bout is you."

He leans down, his breath ghosting over your lips. Just barely giving you a taste of what you so desperately need. "I still don't forgive you." You quip, hardly able to step away before his big hand is wrapped around your neck, a light pressure applied, a warning.

"You think I'm lying? I'll show you who the fuck this dick belongs to. How about that, yeah?"

In a blur of heated kisses and hot touches, your clothes were scattered across the floor and your bra had landed somewhere on the rack, forgotten as Rafe fucked you mindless over the counter.

His thick cock pummeling in and out of your soaked cunt. He grabs a fistful of your dark curls, pulling you up so your back can meet his chest. "Now tell me, baby. Who does this pussy belong to, huh?" He hisses through clenched teeth, overwhelmed by the tight grip your walls provided him.

"M-me." You moan pathetically and it makes him laugh. He lets you go, and your upper half falls back onto the counter unceremoniously. He pulled out slowly, all the way until only the tip remained buried. "Try again."

He plummets back inside your core, his tip kissing your cervix and you scream, eyes filling with tears as you blabber, begging him not to stop. "Let's try that again, yeah? Who does this pussy belong to."

"You! You-- fuck! It's yours, all yours. No one else's."

He grins, he already knew this, of course. He just liked hearing you say it.

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slttygeto · 3 months ago

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Oh no, it's Ghostface! HANMA S.

Synopsis: When you ask your boyfriend what he wants for his birthday, he tells you that it's a secret. How is it his birthday but you're the one getting surprised? You don't question his intentions and proceed with your day at work. Little did you know the kind of tricks Hanma had up his sleeve.

word count: 3,7k

pairing: hanma x fem! reader

content warning: dark content, slightly cnc (read at your own risk), slight breath play, gvn k!nk, fear play, rough oral sex (m! receiving), lots of drool, a bit of mindbreak?

The sound of heels clicking on the floor fills the hallway as you approach your apartment door. It had been a long, exhausting day, yet a smile still manages to find its way onto your face as you remember the date. October has never been your favorite month, you can’t exactly pinpoint the reason why but you’re always filled with sadness as the colder season approaches.

Probably seasonal depression, who knows?

Inserting the key, you push the door open nothing but darkness greets you. It’s rare for the apartment to be engulfed in such suffocating gloom, especially knowing that your boyfriend preferred a dimly lit space. Still, you brush it off, proceeding to remove your knee high boots and place them on the shoe rack.

“Shuji?” you call out for your boyfriend, eyes trying to make out any details but it’s difficult. So you reach for the switch and flip it. Still nothing.

Did the power go out?

It’s a pretty expensive apartment complex, you highly doubt that the power goes out and Hanma does nothing about it. So you try again, and again and–still nothing but darkness.

“Shuuu,” you drag the first syllable of his name on your tongue, grabbing your phone to turn on the flashlight. Since it was his birthday, you had half expected him to stay home, but then again he was Kisaki’s right hand and it wasn’t rare for him to receive phone calls from the shorter man asking him to take care of something for him.

However, your body feels a little tense. Your shared apartment with your boyfriend was rather spacious, and there were many spots you disliked walking by during the night because of how hidden they were. You proceed down the hallway with your phone’s flashlight illuminating the path in front of you, sighing deeply when you notice that all of the rooms’ doors were closed and none of the curtains had been opened all day.

You’re about to point your flashlight towards your bedroom door when you hear something to your left and freeze.

No way. There was no way for it to be Hanma. His shoes were gone, so were his car keys–but this area had a lot of security and no one would be able to walk in unless they had special access to the main lobby. There were no signs of forced entry and every single window was closed–your brain is running a thousand miles a second, and you’re too busy trying to make sense of the noise that you had just heard to react fast. Before you could point your flashlight properly towards that one corner, you swipe your thumb across your screen and click on ‘contacts’.

Suddenly, you’re pinned to the wall with such force that it knocks the wind out of your chest and a gloved hand covers your mouth in an attempt to muffle the scream that rips out of you. You’re dizzy–you’re breathing fast and trying to make sense of what��s happening around you. With teary eyes, you look up and your heart drops in your stomach. A shiny, terrifying ghostface mask is right in front of you and whoever’s wearing it is breathing hard. They notice your trembling lip, the tears coating your lash line and tilt their head to the side.

Trembling, you think they haven’t noticed the phone in your hand despite the flashlight being the only source of light. Your thumb messily swipes across the screen and finds Shuji’s contact at the top of the list. Press call.

The sound of a familiar ring tone fills the apartment, your eyebrows furrow in both confusion and fear. Was he here? Maybe he was hurt and needed your help and–

But the longer the phone rang, the deeper it sank that the sound was way close to you. Way too close.

Your breath hitches as you watch the tall masked man reach into his left pocket. A gloved hand grabs the familiar phone and your name appears on the screen. Before picking up the phone, he pushes your hand up until you’re forced to press the device to your ear and you watch as he mirrors your actions.

“So, you got a boyfriend?” The unmistakable, chilling voice sends shivers down your spine. You recognize the unsettling calmness to it and all your body can do is melt against the wall as your knees buckle. But the tall man isn’t having any of it, and he pins you even harder against the wall. His gloved hand goes from your mouth down to your neck, and the grip is all too familiar that you can’t help but let out a strangled moan.

Despite the fear gripping your bones, you part your quivering lips to reply.

“Why… Do you want to ask me out on a date?” Your voice comes out small and unsteady, and you sniffle, desperately blinking back tears. A low chuckle escapes the man’s lips as he feels your harsh swallow beneath the grip of his hand.

“Maybe… Do you have a boyfriend?”

Before you could even manage a reply, you feel him push his knee between your thighs and a loud gasp escapes your lips. “I–”

“Do you?” The emphasis in his voice combined with his knee rubbing against your clothed pussy leaves you breathless. You can’t give a proper reply, not with your head tipped back in pleasure and your hips bucking up when he grazes your aching clit. Sensing that you were enjoying yourself, your boyfriend pulls away his knee and you’re immediately whining at the loss.

“Shuji–” you can’t see his face or what kind of expression is behind the mask, but you would hope that your desperation moves something in him. However, you forget that your boyfriend is a ruthless criminal, someone with years of expertise in physical and psychological torture. And he makes sure to put it to good use.

A pained moan escapes you when you’re being roughly pushed off the wall, only for your chest and cheek to get pinned to the cold, hard surface. Your phone falls to the ground and Hanma grabs both of your wrists, pinning them behind your back. You feel powerless as he pushes up the brown leather skirt you were wearing, hissing when he sees that you were wearing the smallest pair of underwear beneath.

“Did ya prepare for this, doll? Knew I was gonna fuck ya senseless the moment you walked in–” he momentarily breaks character, forgetting the role he’s supposed to be playing and you feel your heart and pussy swell. Being able to distract a man like Hanma was something you took pride in. You instinctively push back against him, brushing your ass against his crotch and hear yet another loud hiss from the man.

“Fucking slut.” The plastic part of the mask feels chilling and unsettlingly hard against your ear as filth spews out of his mouth. Muffled and low, the sound of his voice alone is enough to have your mind reeling at all the things he will say.

“Answer me.” You don’t expect something hard to press against your clothed pussy so soon, your jaw drops at the cold feeling as you struggle to get away from it.

“Shuji!” you cry out for the man, but to no avail.

“Shuji,” he says in a mocking tone, pressing the item harder against your pussy as he grabs your wrists in place. “How fucking pathetic, you’ve already gone dumb just from something rubbing against your pussy?” His voice drips with dark amusement. Hanma knows how to have fun with you, sex with him is never boring simply because the way that his brain works was fascinating–but you had always wondered if you could get a glimpse of a darker side of him.

However, up until today, he always rejected the idea. Primarily due to the fact that you were his girlfriend, someone whom he cherished with all of his cold and sheltered heart and a person whom he liked to keep away from his business. To the world, he is Hanma–a ruthless killer with a criminal background that could paralyze anyone with fear but to you, he was Shuji. Your sweet, loving boyfriend.

Your loving boyfriend who always fucked you when he came back from a mission with blood painting his face, your sweet and doting boyfriend who let you ride his face because you found him so hot when there were a few cuts and bruises there. You suggest that he integrates his dangerous side during sex and he refuses, but the idea lingers at the forefront of his mind the longer he remembers the pout sitting on your lips and how eager you seemed with everything.

So, the first step was to buy a ghostface mask.

And the second was to fuck you while he wears it.

“Yes,” you answer, barely catching your breath. “I-I prepared.”

“Oh yeah?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “You wanted me to fuck you?”

“It’s y-your birthday,” your breath hitches when the cold material presses harder against your clit, and Hanma watches as you subconsciously move back and forth against it with a wide grin.

“Fucking hell, look at you. Do you know what you’re fucking yourself on, slut?”

You whimper, a sign of confusion and Hanma offers an amused chuckle before pressing the mask against your ear.

“My gun.”

He sees your eyes widening and laughs loudly when you don’t pull away or flinch. Instead, you move your hips back and forth–slow and sloppy, face burning with shame. This had been a fantasy of yours–you’re starting to believe that Hanma has wanted to do this just as much as you did.

“Didn’t know you wanted it this bad,” he’s obviously caught off guard by how needy you are, but it doesn’t stop him from pressing harder and nudging your clit in ways that have your eyes roll to the back of your head. He watches as shame leaves your body and it’s replaced by pure lust as you chase your high. You’re panting, eyes screwed shut and lips parted to let out the sweetest moans.

“Yeah just like that–” you can feel his hard on pressing against your backside, but you’re far too distracted to care. “Use my gun to get off. Good girl–my pretty slut.”

Pleasure courses through your veins like hot lava, it blinds you momentarily and shuts down your brain as you desperately chase your orgasm. You’re certain that the sentences you were blabbering made no sense, you could hear Hanma speaking to you and could make out that he was mocking you by saying “Oh yeah?” “Oh baby, poor you.” but none of it mattered when you were so close to your release. Your thighs tremble, your voice a pitch higher and there’s drool dripping down the side of your mouth. The knot in your stomach feels hot and tightens with each desperate grind against the gun. You’re about to cum, you’re so fucking close–

A pained cry leaves your lips when Hanma pulls the gun away, heartless and cold.

“Why?! Why–” you sob before flinching when he lets go of your wrists to spank you harshly.

“Are you fucking questioning me?” He grips your hair harshly, pulling your head back and craning your neck at an uncomfortable angle. “You don’t fucking deserve to cum.”

“But–but Shuji–” still gripping your hair, Hanma pushes you down until you’re on your knees and you instinctively turn around until you’re eye level with his crotch. Eager and blinded with lust, your hands reach for his belt and start to unbuckle it but Hanma grips your hair tighter and you gasp at the pain.

“Didn’t say you could touch it yet, did I?” Now that you were on your knees for him, Hanma could confidently say that this was the hottest sight ever. Your makeup was smudged, mascara running down your cheeks and your eyes were blown out with lust. He should’ve done it sooner.

“Please,” you lean forward, chin resting on his hard on and your hands rest on his ass. “Please,” you drag your nose against the fabric of his pants, before pressing a gentle kiss to his clothed dick. “I can make you feel good, Mr. Ghostface.”

Hanma lets out a muffled “fuck,” before pushing your face against his dick and you take it as a sign to get to work. You make quick work of his belt and pants before pulling down his boxers and watch as his cock springs free. You don’t waste a single second before wrapping your hand around the shaft, gripping it enough to have the man’s breath hitching. His cock was a work of art, and you always found yourself enjoying oral sex with Hanma mainly because you enjoyed having his cock in your mouth. So you kiss the balls, dragging your tongue along the shaft and don’t give the man a warning before letting your mouth engulf the tip. It’s a small move, but it makes the masked man grip your hair tightly and the silence is now replaced by the much anticipated dirty talk.

“Fuck, do I love when you use your mouth like that,” he sounds so fucked out, drowning in pleasure that you can’t help but let out a moan yourself. The vibrations send shivers down Shuji’s spine and he is quick to remind you to take the whole thing.

“Suck.” Within a few moments, there is spit and drool everywhere. Your hand strokes the parts you can’t reach, and you pull away to spit on the tip whenever you can before bobbing your head up and down on his cock. Hanma, however, is still not satisfied.

“You’re gonna take the whole thing.” Your eyes widen at his statement, and you pull away to complain.

“But Shuji–” your heart stops when you feel something cold press against your forehead.

“Come on, doll.” You look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and through teary lashes. “Don’t look away.”

Your hands tremble as they settle on his thighs for support and you’re glad he doesn’t ask you to put them behind your back. Inhaling deeply, you look up at the man as you start to swallow his dick–inch after inch, the deeper he goes, the harder it is to keep your eyes open or stop yourself from gagging. And when you do and try to pull away, Hanma pushes the gun against your forehead. Finally, you manage to fit all of him down your throat and you’re proud to hear the muffled groan that leaves Hanma’s lips. You could’ve sworn that you saw his knees buckle as well, but you can’t afford to focus on anything else with his cock down your throat.

“Good fucking girl, oh fuuuuck,” he lets out a laugh when you pull away to breathe, coughing and trying to catch your breath before grabbing his cock again. “Oh yeah, someone’s desp–fuck, desperate.” you hum in response, taking him down your throat before repeating the same movement over and over again. Until Hanma’s hips buck into your face and he presses your nose against his pubic hair. You cough and gag, drool spilling down your jaw. You’re smacking his thigh, reminding him that you needed air but to no avail. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head and you swear dark dots are starting to form. You were going to pass out, you can’t breathe–

It’s not until your fingers aren’t digging into the skin of his thighs that Hanma lets go of you. He watches as you fall to the ground, a hand to your chest as you try to catch your breath and messily wipe the drool on your chin.

“Up.” He speaks, and your body responds to his command as if it were second nature. You feel dizzy, and the longer Shuji wears the mask, the more difficult it is to remember who’s behind the mask. A gloved hand grabs your jaw, pulling you close until the lips of the mask are brushing against your own.

“Tell me,” he says lowly, his other hand traveling down to grab your ass. “How much do you want me to fuck you?”

“So-so much,” you admit, broken. You can no longer think straight or try to mask the lust. Your body craves Hanma like the moon needs the stars, you’ve never been teased like this–so heartlessly, without being able to look into his golden eyes for comfort and a way to ground yourself. There was no reminder that it was your boyfriend, the one who gives you the softest smiles and whose eyes meet yours when you’re about to cum. Behind this mask was a different man, and you were starting to lose your grip on reality.

The gloved hand goes from your jaw to your cheek, and you let out a small noise when you feel him wiping something.

Tears.

Hanma is well aware of his sick and twisted desires, but watching you cry is on another level. It makes his cock twitch and his heart beats loudly against his ribcage.

“Beg me.”

“Please.” You ask, desperately.

“Again.”

“Please fuck me–please, Shuj–please.” You start to blabber, lips quivering and fat tears streaming down your face. Hanma finally breaks.

You’re caught off guard as he throws you over his shoulder, letting out a startled squeak when he forcefully pushes the door open to your shared bedroom. He doesn’t give you time to get used to your surroundings as throws you on the bed before grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you down to the edge of the bed. It’s still dark in the apartment, and Hanma doesn’t have enough time to turn the power back on, so he reaches for the curtains and pulls them open so that the only source of light was the street lamp outside.

He approaches the bed again, hurried and impatient to fuck you stupid. Before he can reach for your panties, your hand goes to his ghostface mask and he doesn’t have it in him to stop you from taking it off of him.

Finally, you can see his face. He was all sweaty, flushed cheeks and a few hair strands sticking to his forehead not to mention–his pupils were blown out with lust. This was your Shuji, your boyfriend–the ghostface mask was hot, but you preferred this side of your boyfriend. You waste no time to bring him closer to you, crashing your lips against his in a messy, tongues dancing and spit swapping kiss. It’s anything but romantic, your bodies consumed with an animalistic kind of lust for one another. Instead of taking off your panties, Hanma rips them off of your body and muffles your complaining noises with his lips once again.

“I’ll buy you new ones.” Is all he says before pushing your knees open. Your pussy is glistening with arousal, all puffy and swollen from not being touched enough and Hanma leans down to spit on it and give your clit a wet kiss.

“Fuck–” your close your eyes at the feeling, suddenly growing aware of all of the layers on your body that needed to come off. But you didn’t have time for that, and neither did Hanma. So, he pushes up your turtleneck shirt and watches as your boobs spill out. Holding the fabric, your boyfriend proceeds to push your knees to your chest line up the tip of his cock with your entrance.

He lets himself in, slowly and taking in the way your jaw goes slack and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. You had been craving this, you were practically begging for his cock and watching you unravel just from him pressing inside made it nearly impossible for Hanma to hold back.

“Come here,” he leans down to kiss your lips, sloppy and wet as he starts to move his hips. His cock slides in and out of your tight pussy, leaving creamy rings at the base that has Hanma cursing under his breath. Meanwhile, your head is thrown back and you don’t seem to notice or feel anything but the way that his cock felt against your warm walls.

“Thought of giving me the best birthday gift–fuck, you are my birthday gift,” the tall man starts to blabber, clearly lost in the pleasure and in the feeling of your tight pussy. “This pussy is the best gift I could’ve asked for–” he bites down on your bottom lip, finally getting you to whine in response. Your hands grip his shoulders when he starts to pick up his pace, eyes widening when his tip starts to press against that one spot.

“Yes right there–oh fuck, right there!”

“I got you.” your legs are thrown over his shoulder and a hand wraps around your neck as he maintains his pace, hips remaining in the same angle that has you seeing stars. It’s not until you’re cumming around his cock, crying and shaking, that Hanma can finally lose himself and fuck you hard. He fucks you until you’re crying for him to slow down, watching as the creamy ring that forms at the base is smeared all over his pubic hair and your hand is pushing at his stomach.

“I can’t–I can’t–”

“Take it,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fucking pussy is milking me dry–holy shit.” he curses as he buries his face in your neck, feeling you squeeze around him as you orgasm again. The feeling of your tight pussy along with your nails digging into his back has the man shooting his cum inside after a couple of strokes.

You both lay there in silence for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your breath and party because Hanma knows you need this skin on skin moment. This wasn’t a moment where he could wipe you down, kiss you goodnight and go to sleep–he needed to be present.

“You okay, pretty girl?”

“Hold me,” hearing the desperation in your voice, Hanma lowers your legs and brings you closer to him. He kisses your cheeks, forehead and then your nose. There are tears in your eyes still, but the eye contact with him helps ground you. The love and warmth in them remind you that it’s him, your boyfriend and not Ghostface who had fucked your face senseless.

“Happy birthday, Shu,” you say as you grab his face and the tall man can’t help but chuckle.

“Happy birthday to me.”

2024 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

#happyyyy shuji day and halloween!!!#moon's works #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #hanma smut #hanma x reader #hanma shuji #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji smut #hanma shuuji x reader #hanma x yn #hanma x you #hanma shuji x you #tr smut #tr x reader #tr hanma

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starkeyisthelastname · 9 months ago

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Reader tutoring Rafe but his concentration is in her tits...👀

What and the fuck made you wear that low cut of a shirt?, he did’t know. He couldn’t focus on anything you were saying as those jugs were distracting him. He didn’t care about the bullshit that was coming from your mouth about the equation you were trying to explain. He wanted those fucking pair of tits in his face, and as a proactive kinda guy he was going to get them.

“Rafe, it’s your turn to do one.” Your sweet voice said, causing his blue eyes to glance back up to your pretty face.

Scratching the back of his head, he leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, manspreading as he hoped you glanced down at the forming bulge in his expensive shorts. “I’m gonna be real honest. I have no idea what are you talking about and I really don’t care.” He said, his tone cocky as he watched your face fall.

You frowned, wondering if tutoring Ward Cameron’s son was a mistake. Or why Rafe wouldn’t just take an easier math class, instead of the one he was clearly struggling in. You couldn’t deny that he was a little intimidating, but the money that you had been paid was too good to pass up as a struggling college student.

“What do you mean?” I’ve been going over these problems with you for an hour.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest which only amplified your breasts more.

Rafe ran a hand through his gelled hair, eyes glancing back down to where you lifted your tits up. “I mean- you and those fucking tits have me wanting to do some dirty shit to you. And maybe if you wouldn’t have that slut of a top on, then I could focus on this stupid shit.”

Your cheeks heated pink, glancing down at your chest as you saw the shirt you had worn in fact was showing ample cleavage. You were on the heavier chested side and sometimes just couldn’t help it, but maybe you should have settled for something else when getting dressed earlier. You couldn’t deny Rafe Cameron staring at your breasts though didn’t make you feel a little giddy.

You’d like to consider yourself a smart girl, always excelling in every class and doing well even outside of school. But after falling for his cocky charm and filthy words, he had your top down, tits pulled out for his pleasure.

“Shit…you listen good. Don’t you?” Rafe chuckled, squeezing your rack in massive hands. Those cerulean eyes darkened at your submissiveness, watching as your lips parted in almost a soft moan. He couldn’t help but lean down, taking the right one into his mouth to suck on harshly.

You were not very experienced, the secret was that you were still a virgin. Was it normal to get this turned on from this? You couldn’t stop the whine that left your lips, no matter how bad you wanted to conceal it. Watching one of the hottest guys to ever exist have his way with your chest had your panties feeling damp and you couldn’t deny you wanted more.

Pulling back with a pop, Rafe smirked up at you. “You are gonna be such a good slut for me in bed.” He winked, knowing he had you right where he wanted. “Don’t worry, you won’t be a virgin for long.” He laughed, watching your eyes widen at the secret you told no one.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #obx #obx smut

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playnextdoor · 3 months ago

Text

Bad Example

summary: abby sets a bad example for your little one

cw: mom!abby x mom!r, fast forward a couple months to fit what i wanted to write lol, mentions of sex, no smut, abby is being lazy and reader is bitchy hehe, abby slaps your butt. you two still love each other ok?!?!?!!?!?

"Whoa there, partner!" you say, quickly scooping up your little rascal of a daughter as she reaches for the bowl of chocolate chip pancake batter. She may be over 18 months old, but that hasn’t stopped her from climbing to grab whatever you set on the counter. You set her back on the floor, revoking her breakfast-helper privileges, and she glares up at you, babbling out in protest.

"Hey, don’t talk back to your mother missy!" Abby’s voice booms as she enters the kitchen, startling both of you. You spin around, eyes meeting your beautiful wife. Her blonde hair, tousled from sleep and the quickie you snuck in before you were off to your wifey duties, falls perfectly over her shoulders, and her oversized crewneck just barely hides the shorts she wore to bed. Your stomach flutters, the desire to drag her back into your shared bedroom, but you’re interrupted by your little one grabbing at your pant leg, steadying herself between your knees. “You say that, but where do you think she learns it from?” you mutter as you turn back to mixing the batter. You think Abby didn’t hear, but she just scoffs, sorting through the mail you picked up earlier.

Usually, Abby’s a big help, but lately, she’s been testing your patience. Like earlier this week: she left her shoes right outside the shoe rack again. You tripped over them coming in with your daughter, nearly dropping her. When you yelled about it, all she did was laugh, reaching over to kiss your forehead “You're so cute when you're mad,” you immediately wiped the kiss off. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, pressing a quick apology against your cheek before wrapping you and the baby girl in her arms. The little one giggled, but you just rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smack Abby.

Or like yesterday: Abby offered to put the baby down, but by 8:30 p.m., peeking into the nursery, there they were, Abby, blowing raspberries on your little one’s belly, sending her into a fit of giggles. Adorable, yeah, but it was well past bedtime. "I don’t know if I want to yell or kick you," you said, Abby froze like a kid caught in the cookie jar. Without another word, you scooped up your baby girl, wrapped her in her blanket, and headed out of the room. It wasn't a big deal, really, but it was the cherry on top of a frustrating day. Abby apologized later that night, swooning you with kisses and tangling you both in the sheets.

Even though you woke up to a nice surprise this morning. Abby's hand traveling down your pajama pants, her whispering in your ear, “Let me get a taste, yeah?” in that husky morning voice that makes you weak, you're still pissed at her

“Ugh, they need to stop sending me this garbage,” Abby grumbles, tearing up a campaign flier and tossing it in the trash. The kitchen grows quiet as your little one now stands at your side, reaching her tiny hands up at you, whining to be held. Just as you turn around, you feel a sudden sting on your left butt cheek, a familiar smack. Abby’s got a habit of this, so you try to ignore it, denying her the reaction she’s after. But then you feel three little slaps on your thigh, just under your rear. You look down to see your little one mimicking Abby’s antics, her sweet face looking up at you.

You let out a laugh of shock, looking up at Abby, whose mouth hangs open in a proud, slightly shocked grin. “What did I tell you, Abby?” you say, raising your voice as Abby breaks down laughing. Your little girl crawls over the blonde, picks her up, and joins in her laughter.

“You think it’s funny, but now she’s going to start slapping stranger’s asses,” you say, trying to keep a straight face but failing, biting back your smile. Abby stifles her laughter as she looks at your mischievous little one, who babbles a few “mamas” in between giggles.

“No, lovey, we don’t hit Mama,” Abby says, wagging her finger playfully. Your daughter's face crumbles, her bottom lip jutted out in a pout as tears well up and spill down her chubby cheeks. Abby cradles her, muffled sobs in the crewneck of your wife as Abby silently laughs.

“Babe! Go put her down for her nap. And be a good mommy and apologize to her!” you say, rubbing the little one's back gently. Abby shakes her head, laughing to herself as she kisses your daughter's head, soothing her as they head off to the nursery. As Abby turns to walk away, you sneak a little squeeze on her butt, her glaring back at you playfully.

You turn back to the batter, giggling to yourself as you add a bit of water to smooth the mix, listening to Abby and your baby girl’s babbling conversation down the hall. Suddenly, there's a loud thump, followed by a frustrated “SHIT!”

“What happened?!” you call out, dropping the spoon and standing still, waiting for Abby’s response.

“My damn shoes!” she yells back, voice muffled as you hear her step into the nursery and closes the door behind her.

You smirk, shaking your head. That's what her ass gets.

a/n: all my ideas come when it's 4am and i cant go back to sleep but i dont want to look at my phone bc then i wont go back to sleep so i will just make these fake scenarios to help me sleep. LOL. should i make this a series? lmk <3

#tlou abby #abby x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x reader fluff #abby anderson #abby anderson fanfic #tlou2 x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #wlw writing #orion's writing

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mariasont · 1 month ago

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Hi! I'm sorta new to requesting things, so I'm sorry if the description is weird lol! I was wondering if I could request an Aaron Hotchner x reader where she's very shy and takes time to open up because of her childhood and mother disregarding her feelings but she becomes comfortable around him after quite a while (you can determine length of time).

I am so sorry if that came out so weird rlly I'm sorry loll

Softly, Slowly - A.H

a/n: this description was not weird at all sug! i gotchuuuu, i hope this is what you wanted!!! <3

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: reader being a quiet gal, hurt/comfort, aaron just being the best ever, reader getting shit talked at work (bitches fr), reader being insecure and scared to open up

wc: 1.7k

The sound of the kettle boiling filled the quiet of Aaron's kitchen as he leaned against the table, watching you move with a sort of efficiency that comes from many sleepovers. You wore one of his old shirts—sleeves rolled up and hem brushing mid-thigh—and a pair of fuzzy socks that made you slide slightly every time you moved on the hardwood floors.

Hotch hadn't said much yet; he rarely did in the mornings, preferring to let the stillness stretch comfortably between you. But he couldn't help the small smile forming on his lips as he noticed the way you hesitated, scanning the spice rack for cinnamon.

"Top shelf, left corner," he said gently, not wanting to startle you.

You turned, face lighting up with a shy smile that made the corners of your eyes crinkle. With the cinnamon jar now in hand, you gave a small shake of your head, half-laughing as you met his gaze.

"I can never remember where you keep this," you said, tipping the jar and its contents, letting the dust sprinkle over the tea you had made for him.

"You can rearrange it if you want."

You paused, hand hovering over the cup, and he caught of flicker of something in your eyes—uncertainty maybe? But also, gratitude. You didn't answer, but the way you slid the cup toward him before your own told him enough.

You had met at a charity event for the local community center—a rare evening where Aaron had allowed himself to be coaxed into something social. It wasn't his scene, not really, and he'd spent most of the evening observing from the edges.

That was where he spotted you. You were standing off the side, kinda like him, just far enough away to signal that you weren't interested in being swept up by the crowd. You weren't really mingling and yet you didn't seem necessarily out of place.

He was immediately hit by a desperate feeling that he needed to know you—not because of any grand gesture or flashy attempt you made to command attention, but because you stood out in a way that felt unintentional. Honestly, you seemed to fold in on yourself, as if trying to take up less space in the crowded room, and yet, somehow, his eyes had been drawn to you anyway.

When he approached, you had spoken sparingly, offering responses that were polite but reserved, as though you weren't quite sure what to make of him. He didn't blame you--in fact, the agent in him had almost wanted to praise your caution. Over time, the reserved part about you hadn't changed much; you still spoke in fragments, your words often trailing off before they gave too much away.

Your words came with intention, always measured, smiles small but genuine. It wasn't shyness, exactly—maybe carefulness, like you were testing the waters before stepping too far in.

Aaron hadn't minded. He'd spent his whole career learning to read between the lines, to hear what wasn't being said. With you, it was no different.

Now, as he watched you sip your tea, the sunlight spilling across your face and tracing the curve of your cheek, he felt something similar to... pride? Or perhaps something close to it. He wasn't exactly sure how to name it, but it stuck all the same. You had grown more comfortable with him, more at ease, and though the changes were subtle, he noticed every single one.

You hadn't share much from your past, just enough to give him a sense of what had shaped you, of why you kept your emotions so closely contained. He didn't need more than that. It wasn't his place to ask for what you weren't ready to give.

You slid into the chair across from him, fingers circling around the mug. He noticed that way you hesitated for a moment, gaze lingering on the steam rising from the tea, before finally meeting his eyes.

"You slept better last night." It wasn't a question, but an observation.

You had hogged all the covers too but he'd let that slide.

You nodded. "I did. It was nice not waking up to an alarm for once."

He chuckled lightly. "It has its perks."

There was a pause, one he didn't mind, as you took a sip of your tea and stared out the window. Then, as though the thought just occurred to you, you said, "Jack's soccer game is tomorrow, right?"

He blinked, a little surprised by the question. You didn't usually volunteer personal topics like that—it wasn't that you didn't care, but you often waited for him to bring them up first.

"It is," he replied, lips twitching into a smile that he tried to hide behind his mug. "He's excited. Wants to show off a new move he learned."

Your smile grew, a genuine softness in your expression that made his chest ache. "I'd like to come. If... if that's okay."

"Of course it's okay. He'll be thrilled to have you there."

You smiled in response, reaching for the sugar on the table, and as you stirred it in your tea, he noticed how your fingers weren't trembling like they often did when you were uncertain about something.

Aaron leaned back in his chair, mug balanced in one hand as he glanced at the clock. "Speaking of, I should probably call Jack soon, remind him not to leave his science project until last minute again."

You smiled. "What's it on this time?"

"Volcanoes," he said with a faint chuckle. "His teacher sent a list of guidelines, but he's convinced he doesn't need them. He's got big plans involving food color and baking soda."

"That's ambitious," you said, your sleeve dipping to cover your palm as you used it to prop up your cheek. "Hopefully it's not one of those projects that ends up being more work for the parent than the kid."

Aaron gave a dry laugh. "You have no idea. I'm just hoping I don't end up with vinegar all over the kitchen floor."

You smiled at that.

And Aaron couldn't help but stare, fixed on the way the corners of your lips lifted just enough to soften your entire face. Your smile--it was something he doubted he'd ever get used to. The curve of your lips, the way your eyes squinted just slightly—like you were letting yourself feel it rather than show it. It was beautiful and he wanted to memorize it, to etch the image into his mind--just in case you grew tired of him and the smile stopped being his to see.

The silence settled easily, your hum breaking it just enough as you reached for your mug and made your way to the sink. This was another thing he loved about being with you—the way you never felt the need to fill the silence with meaningless chatter.

You were comfortable in silence which happened to be so different from his world, where every day was a mess of bloodshed, tension, noise. But when he was with you, it all disappeared, the volume had been turned down on everything that usually against him. And that was rare, almost unheard of, and he knew better than to take it for granted.

You lingered by the sink for a moment, eyes casting downwards to your now empty cup. "Can I ask you something?"

Aaron straightened in his chair, his attention sharpening. "Of course."

You turned, leaning back against the counter and crossing your arms loosely over your chest. "If someone said I was too quiet, like, to the point where it's a problem, would you agree with them?"

Aaron's brow furrowed. He was surprised by the question. "Why are you asking?"

You cleared your throat. "One of my coworkers said something about me. Not to my face, of course, but I guess they were complaining that I'm too quiet and that I make things awkward because I don't speak up enough. Someone else mentioned it in passing, and it's just... stuck in my head."

Aaron frowned. "What do you mean stuck in your head?"

You shrugged again, shifting your weight to the balls of your feet. "I don't know. It's not like they're wrong. I am quiet. But the way they said it, like it's some character flaw... I don't know. I've been thinking about it ever since. Maybe I should be trying harder."

Aaron leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Trying harder at what?"

"Being... less me, I guess," you said, a small, humorless laugh following that made him a little sick to his stomach. "Maybe they're right. Maybe I should be speaking up more, or—I don't know—trying not to make things awkward for people."

"You don't have to change who you are to make people comfortable."

You blinked, glancing up at him with parted lips as though you hadn't expected that response.

"I mean... it's not that big of a deal, right? People vent about their coworkers all the time."

"That doesn't mean it's okay," Aaron said firmly. "And it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

You pressed your lips together, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "Maybe. But I just... keep thinking about it. Like maybe I should've done something differently."

"Being quiet isn't a flaw. It's part of who you are, and there's nothing wrong with that. If someone can't appreciate the way you contribute, that's on them—not you."

You stayed quiet for a second, fingers stilling as you leaned into the sink. Finally, you asked, your voice almost too soft to hear. "You don't think I'm overreacting?"

"I don't," Aaron said. "I think you're being hard on yourself when you don't need to be. You're allowed to feel upset when someone talks about you that way. It doesn't make you sensitive—it makes you human."

You let out a small breath, your shoulders relaxing as you finally met his eyes. "Thanks. I guess I need to hear that."

He watched you for a second before standing and crossing the kitchen and when he stepped in front of you, he reached out to rest his hand gently on your cheek.

You looked up at him and before you could say anything he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. When he pulled back, his hand lingered on your cheek for a moment longer, thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

"You know, if I'm going to Jack's game tomorrow, I should probably brush up on my soccer rules. I don't wanna embarrass myself."

Aaron's lips quirked into a small smile, the seriousness softening. "Don't worry. Jack's not exactly playing by FIFA standards. As long as you clap when he gets the ball, you'll be fine."

You laughed softly. "Good to know. I'll be sure to bring my A-game."

"You'll be perfect."

You tilted your head, your smile lingering as you studied him. "You always know what to say, don't you?"

"Not always. But when it comes to you, I try."

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#aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner hurt/comfort #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner #hotch

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astraystayyh · 2 years ago

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can i request hyunjin x touch starved reader?

sure you can!! fluff and a pinch of angst. newly established relationship.

You never really had a problem with not being held; with living your life without a hand squeezing your shoulder, or gentle fingers trailing down your spine. You got used to it- to patting your own back and holding your hand in the dark.

That is until Hyunjin came into your life.

Suddenly your touch was no longer enough. You craved much more- you wanted Hyunjin to wrap himself around you, not letting go until all your years of feeling alone were erased from your memory, one by one.

But you couldn't tell him this, you were scared he'd find you too intense, too clingy. You've only been dating for two months, yet your yearning for him was overwhelming you already.

You were afraid that the line between loving him and suffocating him would blur, and that he'd want to leave. So, when he held your hand, you always let go first. And when he went to cradle your face, you quickly moved away. You didn't want to discover what would happen if you didn't.

But today, all your efforts to keep him at arms length went down the drain.

Hyunjin came over after a week of not seeing you. And as soon as you opened the door, he pulled you in for a bone-crushing hug. His head nestles in the crook of your neck, and you can feel him exhaling in relief, as if a huge weight is lifted off of him. His hand is on the back of your hair, smoothing it down gently. "Missed you," you hear him mumble, his breath tickling your skin, "missed you so much."

"I missed you too," you smile, pulling away slightly from him, as you usually do, but this time he tightens his hold on you.

You didn't know how much you needed someone not to let go of you until Hyunjin did it.

You freeze in your place as he rocks you slowly from left to right, his arms still encircling your waist. His warmth seeps from his body to yours, filling your insides entirely. You feel your eyes well with tears, as you realize that Hyunjin likes touching you. That he finds comfort in it as well- by the way he's relaxing under your hold, his breaths coming out softly now.

He's never hugged you for this long before, and you choke out a sob as he kisses your neck tenderly. "I missed hugging you," he whispers, pecking your bare skin once again. "I missed you," he repeats, trailing his hands up and down your arm, his shin now resting on your shoulder.

Your arms go limp by your sides as he pulls away from you, a wide smile on his face, only for it to disappear when he notices the tears in your eyes.

"Baby?" he asks, confusion clearly painted across his pretty features. But then you see fear growing in his eyes, as he takes a step back away from you.

"Did you not want me to hug you? I'm so sorry I should've let go when you tried to pull away. I won't- I won't do it again. Please don't cry, I'm so-" You cut him off with your mouth crashing on his. You couldn't bare seeing the distraught look on his face anymore.

"Thank you for not letting go. I needed that so much," you whisper against his lips, your hands cradling his face gently.

"Really? Then why were you crying?" he asks doubtfully, his eyes racking through your face for any sign of discomfort.

"Because no one has ever held me as tightly before." You confess quietly, and Hyunjin's eyes soften at your words, his hand reaching up to rest on your own.

"You promise? I didn't make you uncomfortable?"

"You didn't, I promise you," you smile, wrapping your arms around him to further reassure him. He holds you to him instinctively, his hand rubbing soothing circles across your back.

You both hug each other for a while, standing in the middle of your apartment, the sun rays streaming through your curtains basking you both in a golden glow.

Hyunjin places his chin on the top of your head, and you further sink into his chest. He smells nice, immensely so, and you try to find a word to describe how you're feeling in this moment. But all the descriptions pale in comparison to the warmth cursing through your veins.

You imagine that this is what butterflies feel when they finally emerge from their chrysalises. When the first breeze caresses their fluttering wings- a need satiated after a long time of waiting.

"I won't let go if you don't," you giggle, your feet growing tired from standing for so long.

"That's the plan, my love."

"We'll hug here all day then?" you grin, leaning a bit away so you'd be able to look at his face.

"Yes," he beams at you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Doesn't that sound nice?"

"It does," you smile, resting your cheek on his chest once again.

#hyunjin fluff #skz hyunjin #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids imagine #stray kids #skz angst #hwang hyunjin angst #hyunjin angst #skz fic #skz drabbles #skz soft thoughts #skz soft hours #hyunjin soft hours #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin

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springtyme · 5 months ago

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𝐏𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐞𝐚 ♡

Spencer Reid x afab!reader || Masterlist || Spencer playlist

Started my period today and cramps are kicking my butt. So, nataurally, I wrote some Spencer fluff to self sooth.

word count: 1.3k

warning/tags: Reader is on her period. Mention of cramps and cravings. Spencer is a sweetheart. Roommate au. Mutual pining. Fluff and comfort. This hasn't been proofread, so apoligies for any potential mistakes <3

You groan slightly as you clutch a cushion to your chest, trying to settle on the couch while a wave of discomfort washes over you, the familiar twinge in your lower abdomen, an annoying reminder that your period has arrived. You wish you could curl up under a blanket and disappear for a few days, which life doesn’t usually allow for, but it is Friday, and there is at least that little sense of relief that the weekend is here.

You take a deep breath, feeling the cushion’s softness against you, and allow yourself to sink a little deeper into the couch, squeezing your eyes shut for a brief moment as another cramp ebbs and flows. Just as you’re about to let yourself wallow in self-pity, you hear the gentle sound of keys jingling and the front door creaking open.

The slight shuffle of footsteps makes your heart flutter. You can almost picture him as he hangs up his jacket next to yours. It’s not as if you officially have designated places on the coat hanger, but you both seem to instinctively know where your things go: your coats to the right, his jackets to the left, closest to the door. It’s a tiny ritual, an unspoken symmetry: your shoes on the top shelf of the shoe rack, Spencer’s on the bottom. It’s comforting, a bit like the hot fudge brownie you’re currently craving—soft, warm, and reassuring.

Spencer’s voice calls out your name, breaking the quietness. It’s soft, laced with a gentle curiosity that always makes you smile, even when you’re feeling less than great. “Are you home?”

“Yeah, I’m on the couch,” you reply, trying to keep your voice upbeat, even though your abdomen protests with another cramp.

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice is warm, as he peaks around the corner, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern as he takes in your curled-up form. The way he looks at you—soft brown eyes wide with worry as his gaze lands on you makes your heart swell, even amid the discomfort.

“Hey,” you reply, forcing a smile. You could use some comfort right about now, but you’re not sure how to express it.

He tilts his head, his brow furrowing slightly as he takes you in. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply, sitting up a little straighter and attempting to brush off your discomfort.

Spencer’s brow still knit with concern as though your discomfort is a puzzle he wants to solve. “Are you sure? You seem... a bit off.”

You hesitate for a moment, debating whether to open up. But there’s something in his eyes, a soft understanding that makes you feel safe. “It’s just— you know, girl stuff,” you mumble, biting your lip. His expression softens, instantly changing from concern to something gentler—perhaps empathy, or just the simple desire to help.

“Do you need anything?” he asks, lingering by the doorway, his hands fidgeting with his messenger bag. The sight of him, warm and slightly disheveled from his day at work, makes your heart swell. He looks so sincere, and it’s hard not to smile.

Falling in love with your roommate was the furthest thing from your mind when you moved to D.C. a year ago and desperately looked far and wide for a place to live. But here you are, head over heels for the man who has a penchant for collecting obscure facts, making the best cup of coffee you’ve ever tasted, and hanging his coat on the left side of the coat hanger while yours resides on the right.

He hates how the water makes his hands pruny and how the leftover food on the plates turns mushy when doing the dishes, which you have never really minded, but he loves vacuuming, which you on the other hand have never been a big fan of, and he tolerates the tedious routine of folding laundry just about as much as you do. So you wash the dishes and he dries off the plates and silverware you hand him, and on Sundays you fold your laundry together and every time you do so, you fall a little harder.

“Maybe some chocolate?” you admit, a hint of shyness lacing your words. It’s a little embarrassing, even though it shouldn’t be, but it feels good to be honest with him.

“Chocolate it is,” he replies, a bright smile breaking through his initial concern. You can see the shift in his mood, and it warms you to know your simple request has lifted some of the weight on his shoulders.

He disappears into the kitchen, and you hear the soft clattering of cabinets opening and closing as he rummages for something sweet for you as well as the familiar clinking of cups and the sound of water hitting the bottom of the kettle. The comforting rhythm of those sounds gives you a moment of solace, allowing you to let your body sink back into the couch, still cradling the cushion against your chest.

You close your eyes again, letting your mind wander as you anticipate the moment Spencer returns. You feel a little guilty for making him work for your comfort the second he comes back home from work, the drive from Quantico is long, but he was the one who asked. And the thought of him moving around the kitchen, searching for that little bit of happiness on your behalf, brings a flicker of warmth to your heart and you have every intention of sharing your chocolate with him.

A few minutes later, you hear his footsteps returning and he appears with your chocolate and a big cup of tea, the steam rising in delicate tendrils and the pleasant minty scent wafting through the air. “I read that peppermint tea can help with cramps. It’s supposed to be soothing.” He hands you the mug with delicate care, his fingers lingering on yours for just a moment longer than necessary. “Here you go,” he says, his tone casual, but you notice the way his eyes linger a little longer on you, taking in the moment.

You take the cup from him, the warmth radiating through the ceramic and into your hands. You can’t help but feel a little bit like the luckiest person in the world as you settle back against the cushions. There’s something about the way he takes care of you—whether it’s tea for cramps or the endless supply of random trivia that somehow always manages to make you smile—that makes your heart ache in the most beautiful way.

“Thank you,” you whisper, feeling the tension in your shoulders begin to ease. He smiles back at you, the slight curve of his lips lighting up his face and making your heart race just a little faster.

“Of course,” he replies, settling down on the couch beside you, the cushions shifting slightly under his weight. He reaches for the remote, flicking through the options before finally deciding on an old classic—something light-hearted to distract you both.

You take a sip of the tea, letting the comforting warmth seep into your bones. As you do, Spencer settles on the couch next to you, his presence a comforting weight of safety and familiarity as you take the chocolate bar Spencer had brought from the kitchen, breaking it in two and handing the slightly bigger piece to Spencer. A little smile gracing your lips as you watch him take the piece from your hand, and even amid your discomfort, the gesture feels like a tiny moment of victory. The simple act of sharing, of being taken care of, fills your heart with a warmth that competes with the soothing tea in your hands.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. You steal a glance at him, the way his curls fall slightly over his forehead, the way he occasionally glances and smiles just for you—moments that seem small, yet mean everything.

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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 years ago

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Yandere Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Depictions of Smut, Implied Non-Con, Breeding, Kidnapping, Restraining, Yandere Miguel, Obsessive Miguel, Possessive Miguel, Implied Female Reader, Implied Gender-Neutral Reader, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.

You took him in after you found him collapsed on the rooftop of your apartment, a thick, bleeding gouge along his side. And, initially, he was very suspicious of you, found your generosity – your eagerness to clean and dress his wound, to bring him a fresh change of clothes, to offer him a warm meal – a cause for alarm.

But, you made your intentions with him quite clear; that you only wished to help, to make sure he was fully-healed before he descended upon the world once more.

He did try to leave. Truly, he did. But your proclamations that he needed rest and the nice warm bed you’d offered him forced his body to succumb before his mind did.

As convincing as you may be, Miguel is still highly cautious of you. Tuning into his senses, trying to detect poison in his food or a hidden enemy in your apartment.

But, for the days he’s there, Miguel picks up nothing.

You tell him about yourself – anything and everything he’d like to know – often sitting by his side and answering every question he asks of you: your name, your job; the basics. And, eventually, he opens up to you. Marginally. Tells you a little bit about why he’s here.

He only tells you he - and his associates – are in pursuit of a highly dangerous target. Of course, he omits the part about the fate of the Multiverse hanging squarely on the success of this mission, and he just can’t seem to bring himself to as your eyes fill with wonder and curiosity, your attention solely on him.

And he can’t help but indulge you when you ask him if he has any stories about his time as a superhero.

He relents. Tells you of missions which bear little weight on the universe you reside in – nothing that could endanger you should you tell another soul. And you listen with an eagerness he wished his subordinates would display, even if only for theatrics’ sake.

You tell him how lucky the world is to have a hero like him – how lucky you are to even be talking to him, seeing as you’re just a civilian.

Your earnest nature makes something in him tick. Something he can’t place his finger on.

As the days fly by, he finds himself racking his brain for more stories to tell you, more tales to regale where he comes out on top, ever the hero he is.

It helps bury some of the guilt that lingers in his heart, fractals of a universe he’s shattered. Makes him feel as if he’s not entirely a failure.

Whenever you leave the apartment – for work or for shopping – Miguel wanders around, watches some TV, formulates his game plan for when he has to leave.

That last one brings him a little too much anxiety for his liking, so he often finds himself thinking of you instead to ease his nerves.

Something, initially, he’s somewhat shocked by. But the longer he does it, the more natural it feels. The more vivid his daydreams become.

He tries never to let them stray into lewd territory, but after he accidentally caught sight of you undressing, his mind has been urging him to visit some...unsavoury places.

He only permits brief trips there when you’re out of the house, and never for very long.

The two of you fall into a routine while he’s healing; you come home and prepare him dinner, he comes and helps you – even when you tell him he should be resting. Then, you eat together and watch a film.

One evening, close to his departure – Miguel knows he hasn’t long with you left – you fell asleep on him, your face resting on his shoulder.

He dared not move for fear of disturbing you, losing you.

Then, his heart…fluttered.

And, as you slept soundly on him, with all the trust in the world, he realised that nobody had been this close to him – physically – since…

Since he lost his universe.

The idea that someone could take this for granted, the simple act of trust, that they could take advantage of yours, shot through him, a bullet of realisation. And the pain only sears as he looks upon your face, oblivious to the thoughts racing through his mind, through the minds of others – criminals and low-lifes who would kill you for no reason.

He couldn’t leave you.

Not here, and not on your own.

He knows it’s selfish, but, in another vein, he believes he’s saving you. Being the hero you see him as.

The next day, he’s fully-healed. And he has a proposition for you.

“Go…with you ?” you say, eyebrow raised. “Miguel, I don’t underst-”

“You don’t need to,” he says. “But what you do need to know is that you’re not safe here.”

“What makes you think that ?” You cross your arms over your chest, as if to contain – hide – the suspicion growing there. Miguel brings a hand to the back of his neck, rubs it, tilts his head back.

“Listen, I just know things– things that make me qualified to tell you that you, on your own, in this universe, are not safe.”

Miguel knows he’s getting nowhere with you. Especially since he made no effort to explain his multiversal goings-ons to you when he first arrived. So, he shows you.

He takes you by the hand and, willingly, you go with him. To him, that’s confirmation – submission. Your compliance with his whims.

He brings you to a universe where everything is oddly…liminal. Like an early 2010’s Microsoft desktop wallpaper. Just green hills, a distant forest encircling the land, and a house. Big enough to fit a family of considerable size.

Made to fit you and Miguel.

By the time you realise anything’s wrong, out of the ordinary (aside from being shown inter-dimensional travel), Miguel’s dropping a bombshell on you.

“This is your new home,” he says, standing behind you. He’s so close you can feel his warmth against your back. He places a hand on your shoulder. Squeezes it. “Our new home.”

Any shock that overcomes you is overpowered with the sense of dread that you’ve walked right into Miguel’s trap. That, just as he’d warned you, someone had taken advantage of your kind, trusting nature.

You can fight as much as you want, but Miguel’s got his heart set on you. And your future here.

You see, while you were caring for Miguel, showing him the concern and attentiveness he’s been starved of for years, his mind had begun to wander. Wondered what you’d be like with him if you were always together. Wondered how you’d act if you were to care for a child.

His child.

He’ll try to convince you of this ideal, that this is right and is what’s best for you, but if you keep resisting, you’ll see his possessive side emerge. His anger.

Red eyes, pinning you to the wall, nostrils flared; he is not losing you. And if he needs to frighten you into this new life, then so be it. Though, he wants you to adjust naturally, to want what he wants, to, dare he say, love him as he loves you.

And if you’re not going to submit to him willingly, he’ll take it by force.

If you’re capable of bearing children, he creates a strict regiment wherein he takes you, filling you with his load. At first, this was once a day – every two days if he was busy.

Initially, he’d string you up to the ceiling by your legs after finishing, “To make sure it takes,” he told you. And it doesn’t matter how hard you struggle; his webs are steadfast. Stubborn.

But, as he became more ravenous, more enemaoured by the prospect of keeping you, of breeding you, he became sloppy. Desperate. The thought of you swollen with his offspring hits him while he’s at work, during the downtime between missions.

At which point he just takes care of himself, panting your name in the bathroom stall before finishing and returning to work as normal.

Then it became more frequent, occurring while he’s on missions, during integral moments. At this point, he tries to suppress it, save it for later. After all, it’s not like he has a choice.

And that’s when he’d come and pay you a midnight visit, girthy and stiff and eyes red with the carnal need to fill you again and again until your stomach bulged.

That regime he’d set up unravelled, and now he takes you at every convenience, every chance he gets, pinning you to a web and making sure you can’t struggle if you’re particularly resistant.

At first, he did feel guilty about this; guilty that he was the one hurting you, causing you to cry, to beg for him not to finish inside you as you told him you weren’t ready to have a child.

And, during this period, he would wear his mask. He thought it would offer him some protection against your tear-streaked, anguished stare, your pleas for him to let you go, to return you home.

It didn’t.

He tries to comfort you, to tell you that you’ll “Love being a parent – just give it a chance,” as he pumps his hot load into you, holding you close to him.

Depending on his mood, he can be very gentle or very rough.

When he’s gentle, he whispers in your ear, tells you how much you mean to him, how he loves you more than you’ll ever know.

When he’s rough, he’s merciless. And gone is the tender love he’d subject you to, replaced with growls and claims that he needs you, that he won’t stop fucking you until you’re filled with his offspring.

He has a web created specifically for when he breeds you – where he attaches you to it upside down, making sure your chances of pregnancy are maximised. He fucks you here too, sometimes. And while blood is rushing to your head from being upside down, Miguel’s pounding the life out of you, panting, sweating, moaning your name.

He can go for many, many rounds. His superhuman stamina and strength make him unstoppable when it comes to you.

He’ll keep going long after you’ve finished or while you’re unconscious and exhausted from his barrage, never ceasing until he stuffs his cum into you, holding you to him, pressing kisses to your face as he tells you what a good job you’ve done, how well you’ve taken him.

If you do end up pregnant, Miguel is never letting you go.

You can say goodbye to any chances of getting back to your universe when he finds out you’re bearing his child.

And you can’t hide it from him, either. His hearing and perception tell him you’re expecting even before you’re aware of it.

By that point, the only thing you can do is just accept that this is your life now. Doing so early on will make your existence with Miguel little more than bearable. Because if you aren’t excited or tolerant of this child, Miguel will string you up in your bedroom.

“For your own good,” he tells you, his eyes flickering down to your stomach. His eyes soften, fill with warmth. “And the baby’s.”

If he suspects you’ll try to hurt yourself or the baby, he’ll take drastic measures to ensure neither of those things happen; restraining you, placing you into an induced sleep, cocooning you.

If you can’t have children, he’ll simply take one from another universe and tell you that the two of you will raise them together.

If he suspects anyone or anything else is going to try to hurt you or the baby, he’ll destroy it. No questions asked.

He’s indiscriminate, too.

Even if it were one of his associates – someone he’s worked alongside for years – they’re all superficial to him.

His only concern is you.

And he’ll make sure you’re loved and cared for forever.

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider verse #into the spider verse #spiderman #yandere spiderman #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #yandere #spiderman x reader

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wwooyology · 9 months ago

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The Murder House | Pt. One

𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕/𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 | 𝒑𝒕. 𝒐𝒏𝒆 | 𝒑𝒕. 𝒕𝒘𝒐 | 𝒑𝒕. 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 | 𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆

「synopsis」 : after waking up trapped in a room with a dead body, you are saved by none other than heeseung, but you're still left with questions. why were you and your friends trapped there, and who is behind it all? though it would seem that you won't be getting your answers very easily and definitely not without a few losses.

「word count」 : 10.2k

「genre」 : horror/thriller, gore, angst, psychological thriller, mystery

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, blood, dead bodies, cussing, mentions of muder, mind games, drugging, mentions of mental health disorders (anxiety, panic attacks, etc...), jungwon is kinda reckless, lmk if I missed anything!

It felt like time had slowed down, your fist starting to hurt from how hard you were banging on the wooden surface of the door. Tears were streaming down your face, and the bile in your stomach still threatened to arise at any given chance. You knew you should have never agreed to this stupid thing. You knew that something would happen, that it all wasn't just in the movies.

You just knew.

And now you were stuck in a place only god knows where with a dead man that you didn’t even know. The door seemed to be sealed shut, with no sign of opening. Your throat was starting to hurt from the yells you had been screaming for the past few moments, as well as the sobs that were racking your lungs.

Just as hope seems to dwindle, the knob suddenly twists, and the door flies open, causing you to stumble forward right into the person's chest. Quickly pulling away, your head tilts up to see who your savior has been.

“Oh my god, y/n?” Heeseung’s eyes grow wide as he quickly grabs your biceps, looking down at you with worry. He had been woken up by your banging, finding himself sprawled out on the couch that was in the lounge.

“Heeseung? Where’s everyone else? Where’s Riki? What are we doing here?” You start shooting off questions left and right, not even leaving Heeseung a chance to answer anything. It was when you started to hyperventilate that he started to panic and tried to calm you down.

“Hey, y/n, calm down; you’re going to cause yourself to have a panic attack!” He tried to coax you into looking at him, but your eyes were everywhere but his.

“I… where… we—” You were starting to babble nonsense, fear clouding your pupils, and Heeseung was worried that if he let this continue, you would really have a panic attack. To be quite frank, he had no clue what to do if that happened. It was always Riki or Jay who dealt with your panic attacks, so he was completely in the dark.

Having you pass out from practically not breathing was not something he wanted to deal with, not on top of whatever the hell else there was in the rooms with them. Without too much of another thought, he grabbed your face, forcing your attention on him.

“Breathe, please.” He whispered softly, his warm breath fanning your face. Fresh tears prick at your eyes as you inhale deeply through your nose before letting out a shaky breath. Heeseung nodded before he finally took note of the crimson liquid that your pants and arms were covered in.

“Are you hurt?” He tried to keep his voice steady despite the frantic worry that pooled in his gut. He had never in his life seen so much blood on a person before since that time that Jake sliced his hand open, trying to cut carrots in their dorm a few years back.

Your eyes followed him down to your hands hanging at your sides. The blood was starting to dry, turning it a rust color. Seeing it covering your skin makes your stomach turn once more, and you bite your tongue to keep the urge to throw up everything in your stomach at bay. Looking back up to meet Heeseung’s worry-filled one, you just shook your head, lips curling inward before pointing behind you. Your eyes stayed averted.

“There’s a…” You inhaled sharply when your eyes landed on the poor man’s body once more, bile creeping up your throat. Heeseung’s eyes grew wide once more as his own eyes sat upon the mutilated body that lay in the middle of the room.

Alarms were starting to sound in the older male's brain. This wasn’t some kind of twisted prank. No, there was something seriously wrong here.

He pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping around your smaller frame. His hold was enough to ease your mind a tiny bit, so for that, you were thankful, but there were still so many questions that haunted your thoughts.

Heeseung's brain wasn’t too far off from yours; questions clouded his thoughts. However, one prominent question outweighed all of the others.

What the hell was happening?

After Heeseung shut the door and pulled you away from the door, you felt like you could finally breathe a little bit better. You had found a discarded rag that you deemed clean enough to wipe some of the blood from your skin.

You managed to get a pretty good amount off, but there was still some stuck in the creases of your knuckles and neck that you didn’t even know was there. There was even some blood stuck underneath your fingernails. How? You weren’t too sure.

The air around the two of you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was not entirely comfortable, either. Tension was thick in the air, thick enough that you were sure you could cut it with a knife. You need to break it before it starts to drive you further into insanity.

However, before you could open your mouth to speak, Heeseung beat you to it. “Do you know who that is?”

You automatically shake your head, “No, I have no clue who that is.”

“This has to be some kind of sick joke; I mean, why the hell would they lock us in here?” Heeseung scoffed, running his fingers through his hair. He knew deep down that this wasn’t a joke, that they were in actual danger.

“Wait,” Your ears perked at his words, hearts dropping to your stomach once more, “what do you mean lock? Are we locked in here?”

“Yeah, there’s some weird ass pattern lock on the door,” Heeseung says as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Panic started to arise in your gut once more, and you shot out of your seat, making a beeline for the door. Your eyes landed on the weird keypad that displayed a pattern lock, just as Heeseung had said. Your hands wrap around the door knob hoping by some miracle that the door would just open, but it didn’t budge. Of course, it didn’t budge.

Your heart started racing as you ditched your attempts at opening the door and started banging on the wooden surface, much like you did with the other room. The sound of your fist hitting the door reverberated around the room and Heeseung stood from his seat with a sigh.

“Jay! Riki! Is anyone out there? We’re locked in here and need help!” You started shouting, hoping that anyone on the other side would hear you and come help. Though there was no one out there to hear you, let alone help you.

Heeseung walked over to you and grabbed your wrist just as you were about to hit the door once again. " You need to calm down. There isn’t anyone out there, and you’re just wasting time.” He didn’t necessarily mean for his words to come out harsh, but he knew that your senseless screaming wasn’t going to help them in any way, shape, or form.

“Wasting my time? My fucking brother is out there, probably just as confused, not to mention our friends. How can you just sit here and do nothing?” You shouted at the taller male, and he took a half step back, shocked by your outburst.

However, his eyes narrowed into slits, “Nothing? I’m not doing nothing, y/n; we are fucking trapped in here without a fucking clue as to what we need to do. Yet you’re banging on the damn door, hoping someone will come and help us, but guess what? The only person that will save us is ourselves, there is no one out there!” He seethed causing you to flinch slightly. Noticing this Heeseung let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “we just need to calm down and look around for any clues, okay?”

You knew he was right, there wasn’t going to be some knight in shining armor that would swoop in and save you. No, it was just you and Heeseung.

“This is so fucked up.” You grumbled, arms wrapping around your body.

And it was all fucked up. You were in some unknown house with your little brother and friends. You were all clueless; nothing was making any kind of sense to you, and it was making your head hurt. What you do know though that whoever is behind this is some sick and twisted douchebag who was probably enjoying watching them all struggle.

“It is.” Heeseung agrees before looking over the room. Why don’t you go look through that cabinet, and I’ll search the bookshelf over there?” You nod, agreeing.

So that’s what you both spent the next few moments searching through a multitude of different papers and anything else that had been shoved in the cabinet. Frustration then started to bubble in your chest when you realized that you weren’t getting anywhere. The only thing you found that was any sort of ‘good’ was a background check on the dead guy in the other room.

Seo Wonsik – a twenty-seven-year-old male who was on the government's blacklist because of the countless times he tried and succeeded in hacking their system.

‘What the hell was a hacker doing here? And what did he do to be killed so brutally?’ Your eyebrows scrunched together as you tried to piece together any of the pieces you had but were left with nothing.

Heeseung had practically stripped the bookcase bare, books scattered all across the floor as well as the decor that was sitting on the shelves. He bit the inside of his cheek, his jaw clenching about, ready to move on to the next area. That’s when he saw something peeking from the ledge of the top shelf.

Reaching up, his fingertips brushed against the object, trying to move it so he could get a good grip on it. He kicked the books by his feet away, standing flush with the shelf before reaching up once more. This time, he was able to grab it enough to pull it down.

Once he had it in his hands, he took a step away from the bookshelf before looking down to see what it was. His brow furrows in confusion once he sees that it is an envelope, much like the one that was on the coffee table when they first got inside. He then looks over at you, watching as you throw yet another useless file on the ground.

Hitting the envelope against his palm, he starts walking over to you, “Have you found anything?”

His voice pulled you out of your head, and you stopped moving papers to look over at him. You shook your head with a sigh before pointing to the one paper you had set aside.

“Not really, but I found out who that guy is.” You then explained all of the information that you had found out, and Heeseung just nodded, trying to think of why a hacker would be here, of all places.

“Maybe he helped set this whole thing up?” Heeseung suggested but quickly shook his head, “but why would they kill him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they got what they needed?” It wasn't completely illogical; you had seen it happen on multiple crime shows. Then you noticed the envelope in his hand. " Did you find something?”

“Yeah, this was on top of the bookshelf.” He holds the envelope up, letting you see the wax seal on the front. " It’s just like the one from the lounge.”

You agreed before looking over at the shelf that Heeseung was just at, seeing that he had taken almost every book off. Just then, you noticed something on the ceiling, and rage burned bright in your veins.

A small camera, almost invisible, was stuck in the far corner of the room. They were watching you, just like you had thought they would. Moving past Heeseung, you started shouting curses at the device, nearly tripping over the scattered books.

“You’re getting a kick out of this, aren’t you, you sick fuck!” You shouted, pointing at the camera, anger blinding you, “I hope you rot in fucking hell, asshole!”

“Y/n! Focus, please.” Heeseung groaned, wrapping a hand around your arm to pull you away. You looked over at him before turning back to the camera one last time to flip the device the middle finger.

The two of you move over to the couch once more, but neither of you takes a seat. Heeseung breaks the wax seal and pulls the paper out of it. Tossing the envelope to the ground he unfolds the paper before moving over so the both of you could read it.

Welcome to your first room! The first room is always the easiest so you shouldn’t have too hard of a time getting out, but be careful, you could still bite the dust! Let’s get the ball rollin’, shall we? Here’s your first clue! — ‘What lies still and silent, yet whispers the answer you seek?’

You blink a few times, trying to process what you have just read. A sense of dread hits you like frigid water has just been splashed on you. It was a riddle and a weird one at that. Biting at your nails, you look around the room, seeing another cabinet.

Though you were sure that wasn’t what the riddle was leading to, you needed to find something, so you made a beeline for the cabinet. Swinging the drawers open, you rummaged through all of the papers.

Heeseung stands in the same spot, repeating the riddle to himself in a quiet whisper, trying to make sense of it.

“Lies still and silent, yet whispers the answer you seek…” His eyes search around the room, “still and silent. Still and silent. Still and-” That’s when it hit him. Could it be talking about the body in the other room? It was something that would normally be mobile yet lies still and silent.

Heeseung laid the paper down on the table before calling out your name, catching your attention. You tear your gaze away from some contract paper, eyes meeting Heeseung’s.

“The riddle, it’s talking about the body.” He points towards the door that holds the dead man. Your stomach instantly turned, and the bile returned to creep up your throat.

“No. Nuh-uh. No way. I am not going anywhere near that.” You started to freak out once more, shaking your head violently. Heeseung took quick strides towards you, his annoyance was evident in his features.

“God dammit, y/n!” He grabbed your arms, fingers digging softly into your skin as he shook you slightly, “do you want to get out here?” You looked up at him with wide eyes, nodding, “then suck it the fuck up and help me find the damn clues.”

Tears involuntarily pooled in your eyes. Heeseung had never shouted at you, never. He didn’t want to be mean, but if it was the only way to get you to listen, then that’s what he was going to do, and he would apologize later.

“All of this is so inhumane.” You spoke with a shaky voice, trying to keep the tears from spilling over.

“Yeah, and that’s why we’re going to get out of here. Alive.” Heeseung ran his fingers through his hair as he backed away from you, “come on.” He held his hand out to you, and with some hesitation, you placed your smaller hand into his.

Heeseung took your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours before pulling you towards the door. As the distance grew shorter, your heart started to race, and a cold chill ran down your spine.

Pushing the door open, the older male pulled you behind him until you were standing before the body once again. You averted your eyes just as quickly as you looked at him, bile burning in the back of your throat and tears stinging in the corner of your eyes.

Heeseung pulled his hand out of yours and crouched down, his hand covering his nose as the putrid smell engulfed his senses.

“Oh god…” He groaned as he reached forward to move the jacket; tears started to brim his eyes from the smell. His hands shook as he started to search for any kind of clue, praying that he was right and you guys weren’t doing this for nothing.

You stood there shell-shocked as you watched Heeseung search the man, blood slowly staining his skin. It took all of your willpower to keep your feet planted and not make a run for the other room, wanting to be anywhere but here. Heeseung notices you still standing in the same spot from the corner of his eye.

“Check his pockets.” He motions to the man’s pants, his eyes flickering over to you for a moment before going back to patting the man’s upper half down.

You slowly move down to your knees, staining your pants in blood once more. Tears were flowing down your cheeks silently as you reached for the man’s pockets, your hands shaking uncontrollably.

The room grew silent. The only sound was clothes rustling and your quiet sniffles. You had searched the man’s pockets but came up with nothing, so you moved on to just checking his legs and shoes. The putrid smell was starting to make both of you dizzy, and you were sure you would have thrown up your stomach contents if there was anything there.

“Found it!” Heeseung exclaimed, holding up a piece of paper he had found in a secret pocket of the man's jacket. His outburst made you nearly jump out of your skin, eyes wide as you looked over at him.

He started unfolding it so he could read it, but then you noticed something in the man’s hand. As he starts to read, you reach over, pulling the object from his clasped fingers.

“Heeseung…” You called out the boy’s name, terror shaking your voice. Holding up the bracelet, you looked over to meet Heeseung’s eyes, and by the look on his face, he recognized it. You knew who this belonged to, seeing as it was a handmade gift from Jake.

Heeseung takes the piece of jewelry with wide eyes, inspecting it closely. — “This is Sunghoon’s.”

Jay’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and a groan fell from his lips. The bright overhead light burned his eyes as he tried to let his vision focus. He could have sworn that the electric buzzing of the lights would cause him to go deaf from how loud it was.

Blinking a few times, he looked around the room with scrunched eyebrows. Where was he because this definitely was not his bedroom or any other room he recognizes.

Then, all of the previous events hit him like a ton of bricks. The scene of all of his friends slowly passing out until his own vision went black.

Sitting up quickly, he groaned, his head pounding from the sudden movement. Once the pain dulled down, he further inspected the room before he found Jungwon sprawled out in the recliner off to his right. His mouth was parted slightly as drool dribbled from the corner of his lips, causing Jay to cringe at the sight.

“Jungwon,” Jay calls out, nudging the boy’s knee, but he shows no response. Rolling his eyes, Jay stands to his feet, allowing himself to catch his balance before walking over to the sleeping boy. Jay reached out and shook Jungwon’s shoulders, but the only kind of response that he got was gibberish, and the boy moved away from Jay’s hands.

“Of all people to get stuck with, it was him.” He grumbled, breathing through his nose, and his jaw tightened before he hit the side of Jungwon’s thigh with a firm smack, causing the boy to wake up with a yelp. He looks up at Jay with wide eyes, a mixture of confusion and shock clouding his pupils. Jungwon sat up, asking Jay what he had done that for, and Jay just scoffed.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty, we don’t have all day,” Jay told him, annoyance evident in his tone.

“What do you mean? What’s going on?” Jungwon asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his mind still very much in a daze. For whatever reason, the events leading up to now were foggy; he couldn’t quite place what had happened besides that they were going to some haunted escape room.

“Well, for starters, I’m pretty sure we were drugged,” Jay explains as his eyes search the room, missing the expression that settled on Jungwon’s face.

Jungwon blinked a few times, trying to process what had just been said to him. He thought that Jay must have gone insane, or this was all just some huge prank they were pulling on him because there was no way that they all had been drugged. Yeah, that had to be it. This was all just a screwed-up joke.

“Ha ha ha, very funny, you almost had me. Where’s the cameras?” Jungwon burst out laughing, wiping fake tears from the corner of his eyes. His eyes scanned the room, trying to find any kind of hidden camera, waiting for the others to pop out at any moment.

Jay looks at him with a pointed gaze, completely unamused, and arms crossed over his chest. Not a single word left his lips, but the expression on his face was enough to tell Jungwon that he was, in fact, not joking around. His amused laughter slowly died down into a nervous chuckle as he realized the severity of the situation.

A cold chill ran down his spine at the thought of all of them being drugged, but he couldn't figure out why. They hadn’t done anything to upset anyone. You all did your own thing but none of them warnented for someone to do this.

Jungwon then remembered that he had his phone in his pocket. “Wait, we can just call the others!” he exclaimed, standing abruptly while the older of the two rolled his eyes.

While Jungwon started to pat down his pockets, searching for his phone, Jay made his way over to the door. He took note of the keypad that sat underneath the doorknob; the numbers lit dimly, but what really caught his attention was the outlines ‘x’s, which probably meant that they only had three tries to get the correct answer.

“Where’s my phone? I swear it was in my pocket.” Jungwon started to freak out, stripping the recliner in search of the device. He started to feel his heart racing underneath his ribcage; there was no way that his phone was just gone.

Jay pinches the bridge of his nose, stands straight, and turns towards the younger male, explaining that whoever drugged them probably took their phones, too. Jungwon, however, just stands there like a clueless cat.

“Have you never seen any horror movies?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow, his annoyance level gradually rising.

“No, they're too scary.”

Jay scoffs, “again, of all people to stick with me.” He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes trained on the ceiling. “Alright, listen, the door is locked with a keypad. However, I think we only get three chances to guess it correctly.”

“What happens if we guess wrong all three times?” Jungwon asks wearily, not entirely sure he wants to know the answer, though deep down, he knows what it means.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think it’ll be anything good, and I definitely don’t wanna find out either.” Jay was sure that it didn’t mean anything good for them, but then again, this whole situation wasn’t good.

The room then grew silent, both boys lost in their own thoughts, trying to make sense of anything. Jay continued to search the room with his eyes, trying to see if anything stood out. There were a few paintings hanging on the walls; the only one that stood out the most was one with a tree, but the leaves were four different colors, almost like an abstract ombre. Brushing it off as a weird taste in art, he moved on. Then a small red flash in the corner of the room caught his eye, looking over he saw a small camera hidden in the far corner of the room.

“They’re watching us,” Jay stated, catching Jungwon’s attention, who had just picked up an envelope that he saw stashed under some paper on the coffee table.

A chill ran down the younger’s spine at the revelation that someone was just watching them as if they were in some kind of TV show. With shaky hands, he tore the envelope open, which only grabbed Jay’s attention. Looking over, he saw the paper and snatched it out of the boy's hands because he wasn’t sure he could trust Jungwon to comprehend any of what had been written inside.

“Hey!” Jungwon jumps, looking at the older male with wide eyes. "You can’t just snatch things out of people's hands!” He complains, but Jay ignores him. Seeing as Jay is going to ignore him, Jungwon watches as Jay fully unfolds the page before his eyes scan over the words. His anxiety levels spike the longer Jay stays quiet.

Finishing reading, Jay could only scoff, eyes flickering away from the page. He could feel his heartbeat ringing in his ears, dread flooding his veins. Jungwon steps closer, worried that something was completely wrong as if the whole situation wasn’t wrong. Trying to look at the paper, Jungwon’s eyes flickered up to Jay’s, asking what was wrong.

“We’re trapped in here.”

“Obviously,” Jungwon said nonchalantly, his hands stuffed in the front pocket of his hoodie. Jay, however, sent a deadly glare at the younger boy, causing him to chuckle nervously. Averting his gaze, he said, “Sorry.”

“Pretty much this is the first room, and the severity will only grow as we go.” Jay started to explain, both boys growing uneasy, “It also says that if we guess the code wrong three times, we’re out.”

Jungwon’s blood ran cold, and fear clouded his senses. The words were far too cryptic for his liking. Everything about this was cryptic, and it only left him questioning things more.

“What does that even mean?” Jungwon’s brow scrunched together, thinking of the multiple possibilities it could mean. Not a single one of them was very good.

“I have no idea, I’m just as clueless as you, and this is literally the most cryptic shit I’ve ever read in my life.” Jay seethed, tossing the paper down on the coffee table, irritated. “We need to look for clues.”

“Did it at least give us any leads?” Jungwon asked, pulling his hands out of his pockets and pointing back at the paper that Jay had just thrown down.

“Let the colors guide you. Whatever the hell that means,” Jay told him, stepping away from the table. Let’s just look around the room and see if we find anything.” Jungwon nodded before moving to the side of the room where a shelf stood.

The two of them then spent the next few grueling moments searching through all the cabinets and shelves for anything that might be useful. Neither of them seemed to have found anything, though, which only further fed their irritation.

Searching through yet another filing cabinet, Jungwon opened the bottom drawer and was met with four big numbers on a page. His eyes lit up as he made a loud noise of excitement, scaring Jay, who stood on the other side of the room.

“I found it!” He shouted before scrambling to his feet and making a beeline for the door. Jay’s eyes went wide as he watched the boy start typing in numbers before he could even get a chance to stop him.

Jay rushed over to the younger male, pulling him away from the door just as a loud buzzer sounded in the room.

“Incorrect code. Two chances remaining.”

“What the hell, dude?! You can’t just fucking throw numbers on there and hope they work!” Jay hissed, eyes narrowed into slits, “We don’t have all the chance in the world, so stop being so reckless.”

A small pout adorns Jungwon’s lips as he stares up at Jay, “I was sure it would work, look.” He holds the newspaper up, and Jay’s ears start to burn a bright red before he snatches the paper out of his hands.

“This is the fucking year, you dumbass!” Jay reprimanded the poor boy and turned the paper back around so Jungwon was looking at it. However, on the back of the page Jay noticed that something was highlighted in blue ink. Upon closer inspection he realized that it was a number highlighted. Jay then quickly turned around, looking for a piece of paper that he could write on, confusing Jungwon.

“What are you doing?”

Jay stopped his movements to look at the boy, “I'm trying to find something to write on. Stop lollygagging, and help me find a pen or something.”

Remembering that, he saw a pen in one of the filing cabinets, so he moved back over to them, searching through the drawers once more. Once the pen was in hand, he walked over to Jay, who had found a stray notepad. Jungwon watched the man in confusion as Jay took the pen and wrote down the number.

‘Five’

He then set the notepad and pen down on the coffee table next to the newspaper before standing straight. Jungwon glanced down at the table before his eyes flickered back over to Jay, waiting for him to say something.

“Look for anything with a highlighted number. My guess is there are three other numbers.” Jay instructed Jungwon, who was softly chewing on the skin of his lip but nodded nonetheless.

While Jay returned to his original side of the room, Jungwon went back to the filing cabinets to recheck everything in case he had overlooked any highlighted numbers.

Once he deemed the filing cabinets clear, Jungwon moved to the dresser in the far corner of the room. Pulling open the first drawer, he felt his stomach turn, and bile crept up the back of his throat. There, sitting on top of another paper, was a photograph, one he was sure he had seen before.

“Jay…” Jungwon called out to the older male. Swallowing thickly, he turned to meet Jay’s awaiting gaze. He then held up the photo with a shaky hand, “Isn’t this y/n and Riki?”

Heeseung swallows thickly, trying to get the lump that had formed in his throat to go down before pocketing the bracelet. You just watched him, not sure what to make of it all. Did Sunghoon have anything to do with this? Was he the one who killed this man? Questions started to arise, but Heeseung quickly snapped you out of it with a cough.

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions right now, okay?” His voice was soft, almost as if he was trying more to convince himself than you, but you nodded slowly nonetheless. " Let’s just focus on getting out of here for right now.”

He stood up and made his way back into the other room, leaving you sitting there staring at the spot he had once been. Even though you knew he was right and you shouldn’t jump to conclusions, you couldn’t help but try to think if Sunghoon showed any suspicious behavior, but the only thing you could think of was that he had started to distance himself from the rest of the group. You had thought that it was just because he had a competition coming up and it wasn’t anything new if he did distance himself, claiming that he needed to keep his head clear.

“Y/n.” Heeseung called out to you causing your head to snap in his direction, breaking your thoughts. He motions for you to come join him, so you slowly climb to your feet, ignoring the way your knees groaned in protest or how you left bloody footprints in your wake.

The both of you take a seat on the couch, looking at the paper that Heeseung had found. Your eyebrows scrunched together as you looked at the dots. However, the bottom left dot was drawn in red. Then you remember that Heeseung had said that the lock on the door was some kind of pattern, so this is probably one of the spots.

“You said the lock was one of those pattern locks, right?” You asked, causing the older male to look at you before looking over at the door and nodding.

“Yeah, and we only get three tries.”

You looked up from the paper in your hand, mouth suddenly dry, “what happens if we guess wrong all three times?” The first thought that popped into your head was that the two of you would die.

“I don’t know, but I doubt that it’ll be anything good.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He was sure he had a good idea of what would happen, but he wasn’t going to tell you and run the risk of you freaking out again.

“We’d die, wouldn’t we?” you asked, your voice quivering slightly as fear washed over your body once more. Heeseung didn’t say a word, nor did he meet your eyes, which gave you your answer, one that you already knew but dreaded to hear. The air around you both grew silent and tense. It made you uneasy. You were not entirely sure why, but you needed to break it. “Do you think the others got similar puzzles or whatever?”

Heeseung looked over at you as if you had just pulled him from his thoughts. He let out a breath, “I wouldn’t doubt it.” The male then abruptly stood to his feet, causing you to jump slightly. " Come on, we still have more pieces to find.”

So that’s exactly what the two of you go back to doing, tearing the room apart from top to bottom, finding the rest of the pattern. Following the riddles that had been written on the back of each one before too long, you were working on finding the last one.

Neither of you was sure how much time had passed since you had woken up, but that didn’t linger in your minds for very long as Heeseung called for you once again. Looking over, he showed you the paper with the same dots once more.

“Are we sure that this is the last one?” You asked hesitantly, sitting down next to the dark-haired male.

Heeseung laid all of the pages out on the coffee table before looking over at you. "It has to be; there is nothing written on the back like the others.”

“Okay.” You bite your bottom lip before looking down at the pages. Do you think the pattern would be the order we found them in?”

“That’s too easy.” Heeseung shook his head before covering the lower half of his face with his hand, deep in thought. He wasn’t even sure where to begin looking for the order. Was there some kind of indicator? A number, maybe? No, that’d be too easy. Maybe it was the order that they found them in, but he wasn’t going to risk trying that, and it would be wrong.

You then suddenly sat up straight, causing Heeseung to jump slightly, his eyes flickering over to you. It took you a few moments, but you noticed that there were shapes in the bottom corner of the pages, each shape different.

“There’s a different shape at the bottom of each page.” You started to explain, pointing to each shape. Heeseung, however, looked like a deer caught in the headlights, confused and completely lost as to where you were going. Noticing that you had lost him, you let out a sigh before scooting closer to the edge of the couch. “The number of sides on the shape is probably the order that they go in; see, the lowest is the line because it really only has one side, obviously.” You point to the page that had the line on it before pointing to the page with a hexagon, “Then this one would be the last one because there are only six pages.”

Heeseung made an ‘oh’ face when he finally understood what you were trying to say. He then leaned forward, grabbing the page with a triangle on it. " So this would be the third one?”

You nodded, leaning forward to see all of the shapes that had been put on the pages. Digon, hexagon, line, pentagon, triangle, and square. The two of you took the next few moments to put them all in the correct order.

A smile tugged on your lips as Heeseung laid the last page in its correct place. You had figured it out, and you were going to get out of here. Heeseung met your smile with one of his own before the two of you stood and made a beeline for the door. Eager to get out, Heeseung drops down to his knees in front of the lock, tapping the screen and causing it to light up. He reaches out to start the pattern but stops short and looks back at you with a sheepish smile.

“I forgot…” He chuckles, and you roll your eyes, telling him to move out of the way, which he quickly does.

Taking his place, you inhale deeply, trying to calm your nerves. You were 99% sure that you had the correct code but couldn’t help but feel worried. Shaking your head softly, you reach out and enter the pattern, just like the sheets laid out.

When you were finished, you moved back, a bit worried that it was wrong because nothing had happened. A cold chill ran down your spine at the thought of having to backtrack and figure out the code once more. Then the screen turned bright green, and the sound of the lock turning allowed a sense of relief to wash over you.

“We did it!” You jump up with a wide smile, throwing your arms around Heeseung, which surprised the boy, but he returned it nonetheless. He was relieved to finally be out of the room, ready to go find the other so you all could make it out of this hellhole. Alive.

“Come on,” Heeseung pulled away, looking down at you with a soft smile, “let’s go find the others.”

Between Jay and Jungwon, they had managed to find three out of the four numbers. Jay was surprised that they even made it this far. He was sure that if the room didn’t kill them, Jungwon would with how reckless he was. He kept trying to just enter whatever code he thought was correct, but thankfully, Jay had stopped him every time. It just didn’t seem to click in his head that they could die if they ran out of chances.

“I found it!” Jungwon exclaimed, and Jay quickly turned around just in case he needed to grab the younger boy once more. However, Jungwon didn’t make a move towards the door but rather walked over to Jay.

“Lemme see that.” Jay held a hand out and Jungwon placed the paper in his hand, watching as the older male inspected the paper. Jay’s eyes caught the number at the bottom of the page, highlighted in purple.

‘One.’

They walked over to the coffee table, and Jay sat the paper with the others, jotting down the number on the notepad. He then sat down, comparing the numbers, trying to figure out if they correlated with anything. Then, the dilemma of their order popped into his head, and he groaned, running his fingers through his hair.

“What’s wrong?” Jungwon asked, moving over to take the empty seat next to the silver-haired male. Jay tosses the notepad down on the table before looking over at Jungwon telling him that they still have to figure out what order they go in.

“And before you ask, no, we can not just randomly guess.” Jay quips, glaring at the younger boy, who raises his hands in defense.

Jungwon then grabbed the papers with the highlighted numbers, spreading them out. His eyes went wide, and he grabbed Jay’s attention by hitting his arm: “Hey, the colors are different!”

“What are you talking about?” Jay rolls his eyes before leaning forward to look at the papers.

“Look, each number is highlighted with a different color.” He pointed to each page, and they were, in fact, highlighted in different colors.

Jay’s eyebrows scrunch together as he tries to make sense of it. Why colors and what order do they go in? The rainbow, maybe? Or was it lightest to darkest? There were far too many possibilities, and Jay wasn’t going to risk entering the wrong code. They only had two tries left after Jungwon screwed up the first time.

“This might be a stretch, but don't the trees' leaves match the colors?” Jungwon voiced out, snapping Jay out of his thoughts. He looked at what Jungwon had been pointing to, seeing the strange painting that he had seen earlier, and weirdly enough… the colors did match.

Without saying a word Jay grabbed the papers, placing them in the same order as the tree leaves. Jungwon just sat there quietly, eyes scanning the numbers when Jay finished.

‘8501’

The two of them looked at each other for a moment before standing and quickly walking over to the door. Jay crouched down so he was face-to-face with the keypad, tapping it so the screen lit up. Jungwon leaned over Jay’s shoulder, watching him intently, not realizing just how close he was. His warm breath washed over the back of Jay’s neck, distracting him.

Jay closed his eyes, letting out a huff, before turning his head to glare at the other boy. Jungwon’s breath hitched in his throat, so he backed away and gave Jay a quick apology.

Once he was sure that the distraction was gone, Jay turned back to the keypad and entered the numbers in the order of the colors. After he finished, the screen just turned black, causing both boys’ hearts to drop.

Just as Jay was about to back up and suggest they look for another solution, the keypad flashed green, and the lock turned. Standing quickly, the silver-haired male looked back at Jungwon with wide eyes, who looked just as shocked.

Reaching out, Jay grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and pulled the door open. Once the door was fully open, he turned back towards Jungwon, “Now let’s go find our friends.”

Walking down the dimly lit hallway made you wish that you had grabbed a candle or something from the room. It wasn’t that it was too dark to see anything because you could. No, it was because it left an eerie feeling in your gut. Like there was something lurking in the shadows, and to be honest, you wouldn’t be too surprised if there was.

Between you and Heeseung, you have checked just about every door that was in the conspicuously long hallway, but every single one of them was locked. No sound was heard except for the occasional rattle of a doorknob and your footsteps that seemed to echo in the empty hall. When you got to the end of the hall, you noticed that it turned, but there was still another door to check.

“You check that door, I'mma go look down this hall.” You whispered, and Heeseung nodded before turning and walking towards the door. You then turned your head back around just as you rounded the corner, but not quick enough to stop yourself from running into something.

A scream erupted from your lungs as you scrambled to get back, almost tripping over your own feet. Heeseung nearly jumped out of his skin when your scream echoed down the hall, and he was quick to rush over to make sure you were okay.

“Hey, hey, y/n, it's just me.” You looked up with wide eyes, seeing that what you had run into wasn't something but rather someone. Heeseung let out a relieved sigh when he caught sight of Sunghoon.

Letting out a groan, you reach forward, smacking the male’s arm, “good god Sunghoon, you scared the shit outta me!” You exclaimed, running your fingers through your hair trying to will your heart to slow so it wouldn’t burst right out of your chest.

Heeseung laid his hand on your upper back, asking if you were okay, and you nodded, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He kept his hand there as he looked back over at Sunghoon, whose eyes were narrowed in on you, and for some reason, it left the older male feeling uneasy.

“Is it just you?” Heeseung asked, pulling the younger's attention away from you.

Sunghoon shook his head, pointing over his shoulder. “No, Sunoo is in a room we found back there.” His eyes flickered back to you as you straightened your body, eyes meeting his. Come on, I’ll take you. Is it just you guys?”

You nod, following after the taller male Heeseung not too far behind you, “yeah, we haven’t found anyone else yet.”

Sunghoon nods before stopping in front of a door, opening it, and letting you and Heeseung walk in. Inside, Sunoo is standing at the desk, looking down at some papers that were left, trying to see if they have anything worth it. Of course, they are useless, much like any other paper they have found. The sigh he had started to let out is caught in his throat as soon as he hears the door opening.

Turning around, the fear and tension in his shoulders dissipated, and a bright smile formed on his lips as he watched you and Heeseung walk into the room. You returned his smile with one of your own before walking over to join him while Heeseung stayed back, looking over at Sunghoon.

“Was it just the two of you?” Heeseung crossed his arms over his chest as the question slipped past his lips, his eyes staying on you and Sunoo.

Sunghoon glances at the older male, not missing the unease that was written all over his face, his jaw tight. “Yeah, it was just us.” Sunghoon starts, his gaze flickering over to you and Sunoo, watching as Sunoo points to something on one of the papers. “We woke up in a room that was on the complete opposite side of where I found you guys.”

Heeseung glanced at Sunghoon for a moment before he heard a gasp from Sunoo, his head whipping back around, worried something was wrong.

“Oh my god, are you bleeding?!” Sunoo exclaims as he grabs ahold of your arms to check you over for any injuries.

You stood there confused for a moment before looking down and catching a glimpse of your blood-stained clothes. During the commotion of getting out of the room, you had forgotten that you were covered in blood. A shiver runs through your body as you recall the dead man from the other room, and your stomach turns once more.

“No, it’s…” You swallow thickly, heat rushing up your neck to paint your face a deep shade of red, “it’s not mine.” Sunoo just looked at you, puzzled, until you started to explain how you woke up in a room with a dead body and how you’ve come to be covered in his blood.

Sunoo’s eyes went wide. He asked if you were okay, and you just gave me a soft smile, reassuring him that besides being traumatized, you were fine. Sunghoon then asked if you had known the man as he and Heeseung walked over to the two of you.

“No, I have no idea who he is, but I found a background check on him, and I think he worked for whoever is behind all of this.” You explain, eyes flickering over to the taller male recalling the bracelet that they had found, “We did find-”

You were cut short by the sound of a doorknob rattling on the other side of the room. Heeseung quickly grabbed you, pulling you behind him as his eyes shot to the door. Your heart dropped as fear slithered its way into your mind, once more scared that something bad was going to happen.

The door swung open, revealing Jay and Jake, who looked at the other four in the room with wide eyes. They weren’t sure what to expect on the other side of the door, but seeing their friends was definitely not on top of their list. However, they were happy to see you guys nonetheless.

You peeked around Heeseung, trying to see who it was, and your eyes went wide. Before Heeseung even had the chance to stop you, you darted from your spot, latching yourself right onto Jay, arms encasing his waist.

“Y/n? Oh, thank god.” Jay breathed out, wrapping his arms around your smaller frame, missing the cold glare the two of you were receiving.

You then pull away, looking up at him, worry etched in your features. “Where’s Riki?” The fear fuels the thoughts in your head that your brother isn’t with them and is still out there somewhere. Noticing the look in your eyes, Jay flashes you a small smile, his hand resting on top of your head.

However, before he could open his mouth to tell you that your brother was just behind them, the boy walked through the door, looking around. You detach yourself from Jay and rush over to Riki, grabbing his arms and causing him to jump slightly.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” You started throwing questions at the boy left and right as you checked him over. Riki smiles at you, grabbing your hands and squeezing slightly.

“Y/n, I’m fine, I promise.” He reassures you, his eyes racking over your body, noticing the blood stains all over your clothes. “Are you okay though?”

You miss the slight twitch of a smirk on the younger boy's lips as you look down at yourself. “I’m fine, just shaken up. Are you sure you’re okay?” You look back up at him, eyes gleaming with worry. “I was so worried.” You place your hand on his cheek, and he grabs your wrist, pulling it away with a small grimace, telling you once more that he is okay.

“Hate to break up this cute sibling moment, but Sunoo found another letter or whatever.” Sunghoon clears his throat, catching all of your attention, pointing over to the blonde who was holding up an envelope. Everyone then moved to the center of the room, where an armchair and a small table sat. Once everyone was pretty much huddled in a small circle, Sunoo unfolded the paper and started reading it aloud.

‘Congratulations! You’ve survived the first room, not that it was too hard right? Now, don’t get too hopeful, as the next room you’ll be in won’t be as forgiving. Enjoy your small break and good luck on making it out alive!’

No one says a word, the tension in the room growing thicker as the words sink in. A chill ran down your spine at the thought of one of your friends or even your brother not making it out. Jay puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder, thoughts of his own flooding his mind.

“Shouldn’t we like look for any kind of clues while we’re in here?” Jungwon spoke up, pulling his hand away from his lips seeing as he had been chewing on the loose skin around his nails.

Everyone agrees before doing exactly that, splitting off either on their own or in pairs. Jungwon and Sunoo make their way back to the desk where the blonde had been moments ago. You walk over to one of the bookshelves on the far side of the room, skimming through the books. Jay follows Heeseung to another bookshelf that isn’t too far from where you are. Riki and Jake move to the far corner of the room, talking amongst themselves, eyes flickering over to the others for a moment before turning back. Sunghoon then sits down in the armchair, his chin resting on his fist as he props it up on the armrest. His eyes looked distant, as if he wasn’t fully there, lost in his own little world.

Looking through the bookshelf, you couldn’t help but notice how Sunghoon hadn’t moved from the chair, his eyes now flickering from group to group, watching them all with an unreadable expression. Your mind then trailed back to the bracelet that you had found on the body. You didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but he wasn’t helping ease your mind, not even a little bit. You wanted to believe that he had nothing to do with this, that it was all just one huge misunderstanding, but the bracelet was one of a kind; there was no way someone could just get another one.

Glancing at the dark-haired male once more, you let out a sigh before making your way over to Sunoo and Jungwon. As you got closer, the two boys noticed you and nodded in acknowledgment.

“Hey, Sunoo, quick question.” You speak quietly, not wanting to alert the male who is sitting not even five feet away. “Was Sunghoon like that in the other room?”

Sunoo glances over at Sunghoon, whose eyes are currently on Jay and Heeseung, “I mean, he was pretty standoffish, but he still helped look around for the clues.” He looked back at you, his eyebrows scrunched together.

Nodding your head slowly, you then look down at the papers he was holding, “Have you guys found anything?”

“Besides a bunch of useless documents, no.” He sighs, tossing the pages back down on the desk causing Jungwon to look over for a moment. You give him a tight smile before patting his shoulder and turning to walk away.

Making your way over to Jay and Heeseung, you felt eyes on you. Looking over, you caught Jake staring. Realizing that he got caught, he flashed you a smile, which you returned before walking over to Jay. The smile that adorned the male's face dropped once he saw how close you were standing to Jay. His jaw clenched tightly before looking back at Riki, who had asked him something.

You stood between Jay and Heeseung, listening to them talk about a book title that they had seen before you tapped both of their arms, causing them both to jump slightly. Seeing that it was you, Jay subconsciously moved closer to you while Heeseung turned his attention to you.

“I really don’t want to jump to conclusions, but Sunghoon has been acting weird.” You spoke softly, biting your bottom lip, and both boys peeked over at the younger male.

“A lot has happened in such a short amount of time,” Jay told you as he turned back towards you, “I’m surprised that the rest of us are even looking; this is supposedly our ‘break time,’ evidently.”

You purse your lips slightly before looking over at Heeseung for a second, who just turned away from Sunghoon. You had known Sunghoon almost as long as you’d known the others, so it didn’t feel right to accuse him of anything without any actual proof, but finding the bracelet and the way he was acting now only left a bad taste in your mouth.

“Jay, we found his bracelet on the body in our room,” Your voice shook as you looked up at him, and Heeseung pulled the piece of jewelry out.

Jay’s eyes grow wide as he instantly recognizes it; even with the blood soaking one half, he knew that the bracelet was the one Jake had made specifically for Sunghoon. His eyes quickly shifted over to Sunghoon, who was sitting in the chair, looking at his arms and seeing that the bracelet was, in fact, not on his wrist anymore. Turning back to the two of you, he covers Heeseung’s hand and the bracelet with his hand, pushing Heeseung’s down, making sure no one else is looking over at the three of you.

“Let’s just keep this between us, ya? I don’t want to cause panic with the others.” He spoke quietly, looking between you and Heeseung who nodded his head, shoving the bracelet back into his pocket. “But y/n…” Jay looked down at you, “I think this might have something to do with you.”

You looked up at him with wide, shocked eyes, “Me? You’re telling me that I’m the reason that this is happening?” Your heart started to race as your voice shook, and a mixture of fear and anger filled your veins, “That’s a pretty fucked up thing to assume, Jay.”

“No, listen, Jungwon found this picture of you and Riki in our room.” Jay reached for his pocket to pull the photograph out, “but your face had been scratched out.” He holds the photo out to you, and you quickly grab it, eyes wide and your ears ringing as your stomach drops.

“I thought I had lost this a while ago.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, turning the photo over and seeing your handwriting on the back.

‘The love between siblings knows no boundaries.’ - Y/n & Riki

Your hands started to shake as fear etched itself into your soul. Had this all really been your fault? Noticing the tears in your eyes, Jay pulled your smaller frame into his, wrapping his arms around you while Heeseung put his hand on your head.

“We’ll get out of here,” Jay whispered, hands rubbing the small of your back. His eyes flickered up to Heeseung. “Together.”

Just then, a loud bang reverberated around the room as the doors slammed shut, and the sound of the locks turned right after. Everyone jumped, their eyes went to either of the doors, fear and terror written on everyone's faces. Jungwon was the first to move, walking to the door and trying to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Is this the next puzzle?” You asked, stepping away from Jay and looking over at Jungwon, who looked at you with wide eyes.

The room started to fill with a smell that you couldn’t quite place, but it was starting to make your head woozy. Blinking a few times, you tried to clear the fog, but to no avail. Sunoo then dropped to the ground, making you gasp. You started to make your way to him, but your head started to spin.

Jay quickly grabs you, shouting at everyone to cover their mouths and noses with their shirts. However, it was too late. You collapsed in Jay’s arms, unconscious, while Heeseung stumbled before dropping to the ground as well. Before too long, everyone had succumbed to the gas and collapsed to the ground.

The ringing in your ears was like an alarm, pulling you back to consciousness. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking hard to adjust to bright overhead lights. Once your eyes adjusted and the ringing dulled down, you looked around your surroundings. Your heart started racing the moment you saw Jungwon lying on the ground a few feet away from you.

You scramble to get to your feet, almost slipping and falling in the process, but you catch yourself before rushing to Jungwon’s side.

“Jungwon! Wake up!” You shake him roughly, hoping to get him to open his eyes, which he does after a few moments, bringing his hand up to shield his eyes from the bright lights.

“Y/n? What’s going on? Where are we?” Jungwon slowly sat up, blinking a few times to clear his vision.

Before you could open your mouth to say anything, the sound of your name being called caught your attention. Turning around, a loud gasp fell from your lips when you found Sunoo standing in a clear cage of sorts. Three locks adoring the door, trapping him inside. Your stomach dropped as you stood to your feet, ready to go over to him. However, you then saw Jake on the other side of the case, standing up with wide eyes. “Rise and shine! The early bird gets the worm as they say” A robotic voice came through the speakers, echoing around the room scaring you. Jungwon stands by your side as a large screen turns on, displaying a countdown, and all of your hearts sink. “Welcome to game number two! You may have gotten out of the first room with no trouble at all, but I can’t promise the same for this one.” Jungwon grabs your hand, causing you to look over at him before looking at Sunoo, who looks horrified, hands pressed against the glass. “Here, you will have a very limited time to complete all three puzzles to collect the key to let your dear friend out. However, if you can’t find them all within the time given to you, well…” The sound of water running, followed by a gasp, caused your head to snap in Sunoo’s direction, eyes growing wide. “He’ll be swimming with the fishes.”

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

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bandgie · 8 months ago

Text

The One That Got Away

synopsis: Hyunjin is nothing more than a playboy you wish you had zero history with. You wish he feels the same, but he can't seem to forget the night you ran from him.

warning!: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, oral (f!rec), teeth use (i have to), fingering, cum eating, dry humping (brief)

notes: this is a request that took me way too long to write

3.8k words

“No.”

Hwang Hyunjin blinks. He awkwardly shifts on his feet, standing at the front of the classroom two feet shy away from you. He had made sure to ask you once everyone left. When you were busy stacking the papers the students turned in for grading. Your unamused eyes looked away from his still form, hoping he’d get the message and leave, but of course, he didn't.

“No?” He parrots. “I really need to pass this course.”

“And I really need to grade the papers,” you slap the stack on the desk. When you applied to be a teaching assistant for your professor, you thought it would be simply grading and answering emails. Instead, you’re teaching class, helping students who are either too tired or high to understand what you’re saying. It got to the point that you begged Professor Bang for another TA, one that’s specifically for tutoring.

“But Jisung told me to ask you. All of his slots are full,” his usual cocky eyes fill with uncertainty. “Is this because of…the thing?”

You freeze at the mention, swearing that your heart stops beating. A flash of memories infiltrate your mind as you're forced to recall his hands on your body, the feeling of his warm breath on your neck as you pushed up against him. It was before the semester started. Before you knew that Hwang Hyunjin would be one of your professor’s students.

The first time he saw you.

You clear your throat, carefully putting the papers in your bag. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But your half-irritated half-nervous demeanor gives it away. It’s enough for Hyunjin to smile, propping himself against the desk almost flirtingly. “You don’t? Well, I do. You were wearing that cute little tank top and-”

“Jisung is the one in charge of tutoring,” you cut him off and pray he can't see the blood rushing to your face. “If he doesn’t have a slot open, I’ll make him open one up. Don’t bother me about shit that isn’t my problem.”

There’s a small victorious feeling when you see his smile drop. When his limbs look more lanky than confident as you take your leave. The reason your hips sway is because of your heels, not because of the piercing gaze you know Hyunjin is giving your back.

Luck is hardly, if ever, on your side. Or maybe it was just Jisung’s pretty eyes practically begging you to take just one student to tutor that made you cave.

“Just one time, please! I’m filled with students already!”

“I don’t see any sessions for Saturday.”

“It’s mine and Minho’s anniversary that day! Pleeease!”

You tune out the remembered conversation to focus on your outfit instead. It was Hyunjin’s idea to meet at a cafe, though you weren’t sure if they were open this late. You slide your clothes across the rack, looking for a jacket when a familiar tank top catches your eye. Gently, you pull it from the closet to further inspect it.

You were wearing that cute little tank top…

The material is tight, purposely so that your chest pushes together for extra cleavage. It makes you look nice, so much so that Hyunjin couldn’t take his eyes off you that night. Were you a student? No, Hyunjin knew almost everyone, especially pretty girls. There’s no way you would have slipped under his radar. Asking you to dance was pure alcohol on his side, you grinding your ass against his crotch was on yours.

There isn’t much to the memory, you left before things got too serious. But you remembered the night when you woke up the day after and apparently, so did Hyunjin when you walked into the classroom to introduce yourself as their TA.

Wearing the same tank top would be foolish. It would only show Hyunjin that you did remember, that you did like the way he felt against you even through all the clothes and people bumping against you. Logically, you should toss the top back into the closet.

You saved thinking logically for your assignments.

Hyunjin was having a hard time looking at your eyes. You were explaining the critical differences between an independent and a dependent variable, but those pretty lips moving would occasionally sip on the staw. Your lips would purse and your tongue would stretch out to firmly hold onto it while you drank. Your throat would gently bob, and now you licked the remaining liquid from your lips to continue talking.

Whenever you help Hyunjin write, his eyes lock with your chest. That damned tank top barely doing anything to help the spilling of your tits. The same ones he groped from behind you during that night, daring to dip underneath that material just before you fled.

“Why did you run away?”

You pause in the middle of your sentence to look up at him, leaning back to properly scan his face. Hyunjin hadn’t meant to speak out loud, but he can't find himself regretting it when you cock your head to the side in confusion. “From what?”

“The thing.”

You groan, grabbing your cup and furiously drinking it. “Can you stop it with the thing? That was months ago.” You keep sipping in hopes of Hyunjin dropping it, but he leans closer from the other side of the table as he says, “I don’t think so. You were all up on me and then dipped. I can’t get over it.”

“First of all,” you raise a manicured finger at him. “You were the one on me, let's get that straight. Secondly,” you put up a second digit, “You’re gonna have to get over it. I didn’t wanna fuck you then and I don’t wanna fuck you now.” Horrified eyes from nearby tables turn in your direction. You silently curse yourself and embarrassingly suck on the straw. “This isn’t a place where we should talk about this.”

Hyunjin nods, agreeing with you for what seems like the first time ever. “You’re right. Let’s go to mine.” He begins to pack his things without waiting for your response. You scowl at him, watching as he leaves a generous tip for the waiter and stands.

You don’t know why you follow him and you don’t want to know. His place is only a few blocks away from the cafe, but the street feels like it stretches on forever in the night. Hyunjin keeps you on the inner sidewalk, huffing about how you shouldn’t walk close to the streets. You’d think it was cute if the person was someone other than him, so you only bicker in return.

It’s only when you enter his apartment that you fall silent. You thought his place would be trashed, maybe even some female underwear lying around somewhere, but it’s cozy. Clean enough to know that he keeps it up, but still having things thrown around to know he frequents here. Books sprawled open, only a few dishes in the sink, and random splashes of paint on the hard floor as if he spilled.

“Not bad, huh?” He smiles at your ogling. You huff and turn your head away from him, “I never said it was good.” Hyunjin chuckles, gesturing to the small living room as he makes his way to his smaller kitchen.

“I got chocolate muffins, grapes… instant ramen…” he trails off, obviously desperate to look for something good to offer. “I assume knock-off Oreos are off the table?” Against your better self, you smile. You remember being a struggling undergrad, living off cheap ramen and tap water. “I’m okay, thanks.”

He nods, “Good. ‘Cuz that has to last me ‘till my next paycheck.”

You look at him both amused and perplexed. “Then why did you even offer me anything?” Hyunjin flops beside you on the couch, letting his limbs stretch, “Because I’m a good host. Am I supposed to let a pretty girl starve instead?”

Ah, there he is. It’s hard to believe that Hyunjin is anyone but a flirt. It’s even harder to believe that his little tricks actually worked, even almost on you. “Does that always work for you?” He cocks his pretty head to the side, dark hair falling over his eyes in the process, “Does what?”

You gesture to his body; the open legs, the sly smirk, the nonchalant slouch that he’s practiced, “This whole…act. You being all hot and flirty so girls will sleep with you.” Hyunjin’s eyes widen. He shifts in his seat, uncomfortable with your observation. It only takes a cool ruffle of his hand through his hair before he says, “I dunno. Is it working?” He laughs borderline obnoxiously while your nose scrunches in distaste. “Hardly. I’d say it’s having quite the opposite effect.”

A wicked smile finds his beautiful lips. “Is that so?” Hyunjin gently places his hand on your thigh, letting his thumb rub on the smooth surface of your skin. He leans towards you, hair tickling your neck as he whispers, “How about now? You feeling any different?”

He expects you to roll your eyes, maybe even push him away, but you don’t. You’re too busy trying to ignore the pumping of your heart. It’s loud in your ears, thump thump thump.

You open and close your mouth, not sure of what you should say. Shoving him away should be your next move, but being this close to him only reminds you of the party. His breath is warm on your skin, so much like that night. Hyunjin doesn’t creep his hand up, but you're silently wishing he could. You want to feel him touch you again. You want his fingers to dig into the flesh of your breasts, leaving marks in their wake.

“Why’d you run?” He asks again.

You can’t ignore him now. Not when the truth crawls up your throat and leaves your tongue. “I didn’t mean to. I just had never…” You turn your head away. A part of you wants to run away again. To leave this awkward, yet alluring situation. You want to go back to the comfort of your room, rotting in your bed while graduates and undergraduates live the college life you know isn’t meant for you.

Hyunjin doesn’t let you escape this time, not without an answer at least. One hand finds your chin, gently turning it until you’re forced to look at him. His eyes are anything but impatient like you thought they’d be. They’re intent, watchful, and gleaming. They drop to your tongue swiping against your lips then back to your eyes.

God, you want to kiss him.

“You just never what?”

Screw it. You close the distance. With your eyes closed, you pray that you find his lips aimlessly. Hyunjin lets out a surprised mmf! when you make contact. He lets your lips mold around his, moving his hand from your chin to the back of your neck to steady himself. He presses you slightly harder against him, forcing your mouth to open just the tiniest bit so he can get the first taste of you.

The gentle sounds of smacking turn wetter. You quietly whimper against his mouth and you feel him smile. Hyunjin tugs you. Once, twice, before you finally get the message to sit on his lap. You only break the kiss for a short second before your back on them, ignoring the nervousness pooling in your stomach as you straddle him.

Hyunjin pulls from your mouth to kiss your cheek, down your jawline until he bites your earlobe. You cry out, gripping his shoulders and slightly trembling in his hold. His hands squeeze your waist, unintentionally making you rub against his crotch.

“Look at that,” he whispers in your ear. “Who’s on who now?” Hyunjin giggles when you bury your face in his neck. His hands roam lower until they find the fat of your ass. You stiffen, arching your back just the slightest so he can have more to grab. With his hands on you, Hyunjin slowly grinds you on his crotch. You feel his hard-on, the bulge pressing against your cunt so deliciously it scares you.

Hyunjin notices the difference. He picks his head from your neck and you do the same.

“You said you've never done something before,” you can see him connecting the two, but you already know he’s going to arrive at the wrong answer. “Did you mean, like? You’re still a virgin?”

You shake your head, red from both embarrassment and arousal. “Not like that. I just mean, I’ve never had…a hookup.”

He raises his eyebrow. “You? Never?”

“Nope.”

“But you’re like, a graduate. And you’re hot.” Hyunjin wiggles his eyebrows and you playfully push him. “Thanks, but none of those really matter. I get awkward if it’s not someone I know. That’s why I usually…”

He finishes for you, “Run away.”

You nod.

“Well…” Hyunjin moves his hands back to your waist, lifting you until you’re back seated on the couch. Disappointment fills you. You weren’t sure if you necessarily wanted to fuck Hyunjin, but you definitely didn’t want to be rejected by him at the very least. You don’t want to feel humiliated, but you do. You’re about to get up and practically scurry for the front door before he parts your legs.

Hyunjin hooks one over his shoulder while the other hangs over the couch limp. He leans his head down, stomach flat on the cushions as he nudges against your thighs. He shoots you a sly smile, “Guess we’ll just start slow then.”

You bite your lower lip when his fingers diligently work your buttons. Hyunjin leans closer and takes hold of the zipper in his mouth. “This okay wit’ you?” You giggle from his muffled words, nodding. “Mhm. I honestly thought you were gonna tell me to leave.”

His eyebrows shoot up, surprise evident in his face as he drags the zipper down. “What?” He says as he shuffles your pants down. “Why would I do that?” You shrug, but there’s a pink hue in your cheeks. “I dunno. I was thinking maybe you’d like someone who knew what they were doing.”

Hyunjin blows a raspberry, concentrating on getting your tight jeans off until they’re nothing but a pile of clothes on the floor. He settles back between your legs, eyes lighting up at the sight of your pretty panties. “The way you were grinding up on me that night? I won’t lie, I definitely thought you knew what you were doing. But it doesn’t really matter if you do or don’t.” Hyunjin presses a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, making you hum from the warmth. “I can do it all for you.”

Heat bubbles in your stomach at those words. You mindlessly nod, although you’re not sure if you were supposed to respond anyway. Hyunjin’s nose brushes against your clothed cunt, his lips puckering so he can gently press kisses to your core.

You mewl at the sensation, widening your legs so he has more room. Hyunjin shows his appreciation by opening his mouth. Even through your underwear, you can feel the heat of his mouth. Your legs eagerly quiver when he finally plants his mouth on your pussy. His tongue makes work to your clit, rubbing the sensitive flesh until your panties grow wetter.

The sounds make up for the lack of noise in the room, but you can’t find yourself to be embarrassed. Not when he finally pushes the underwear to the side with the tip of his nose and presses another gentle kiss on your bare cunt. His tongue is just as gentle as his lips. He smoothes over your flesh with consideration, sucking the bud of your clit. You jolt, one hand shooting to his hair to grip.

“Fuck!” You use your free hand to grasp onto your breast with your elbow keeping you half-sitting. “It’s so sensitive there.”

Hyunjin giggles with your clit in his mouth, giving a harsh suck just to pop off a second later. “I know. Ever had your pussy eaten at least?”

You have to blink in concentration. It’s hard to think of the small, pathetic sexual encounters you’ve had when Hyunjin goes back to eating you out. The only response you give him is moaning, your hand pressing him deeper into your cunt until his nose shines with arousal.

A whine leaves you when he pulls away, replacing his skilled mouth with equally skilled fingers. They’re long, and warm, but not as soft as this tongue. You open your mouth to complain, but a long-winded sigh leaves instead when they brush against your fattening clit. Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you look at his digits flicking your pussy. “Shit.”

“Anyone ever told you how cute your little pussy is?” He locks eyes with your core. “I can’t believe no one’s tasted it. It’s fucking good.” Hyunjin’s eyes glaze over with something you haven’t seen before. A desire so deep you think he could drink you up with just his look. His tongue pokes out of his mouth unconsciously as he slides his fingers lower, just until the tip of his digit finds your entrance.

He dips it in, groaning at how easily you open up for him. It’s warm inside, so soft that he can’t help the way his fingers keep digging deeper until his knuckles touch your skin. You can feel your walls pulsing around him as you throw your head back. “Not- mmm- not like this. No one’s eaten me like this.”

Hyunjin lets out what you think is closer to a growl than a moan at your words. He pumps his fingers fast and hard, making a repetitive slapping sound echo throughout his living room. You squeal, snapping your head down to look at him. You clench harder seeing him; his open mouth, the intense gaze, the heavy breathing.

Unable to keep eye contact, you peer down at your cunt. His fingers have a sheer coat of white from his efforts, so much so that it begins to slide down his wrist. You whimper at the sight. Hyunjin follows your line of sight, moaning at the mess you’ve made on him.

“God, fuck!” He leans his back down, tongue already blindlessly looking for your cunt. “Please, please, please.” You’re not sure what he’s begging for, but something in you bubbles with the first signs of your orgasm at the thought of him so needy to taste you. The combination of his fingers and mouth makes you gasp. The very few people you’ve been with only cared if you were wet enough to take them. They didn’t care if you came. If you felt so good that you wanted to crawl out of your skin like how you feel now.

It’s so hot being trapped between your thighs. Hyunjin has sweat dripping down his forehead, but he hardly slows down. Not when he can see you panting, legs restlessly scrambling before you wrap them around his neck to keep him there. Being pressed against your cunt makes it harder for him to finger you, but you don’t seem to mind. You seem content with having something to clench down on while he sucks on your clit, and he’s more than happy to oblige.

“Hyunjin!” You cry out his name. You repeat it over and over when his mouth envelopes your entire pussy. He sucks, he licks, and he grunts when you yank on his hair a little too hard. Your hips begin to rock against his face, trying to both escape and increase the intense pleasure you’re feeling. His mouth follows you easily, uncaring of how much you pull and tug on his hair.

“Don’t stop. Shit, please don’t stop.” You build and build, nearly forgetting to breathe before finally crashing down. Hyunjin tipped you over by ever so slightly biting on your clit. The hardness of his teeth provides the perfect amount of pressure for you to cum on his face. Hyunjin stills his fingers, letting you rhythmically pulse around his digits while his tongue laps continuously over your flesh.

You must sound like you’re crying, screaming, or something in between. You can’t help the shuddering breaths, the loud mewls, or the moans that leave you when Hyunjin helps you come down from your high.

Finally, you release his hair. You loosen the grip you've trapped him with between your legs so he can let up, but Hyunjin stays satisfied by licking you clean. It would be overstimulating if it weren’t for his kitten licks. His tongue swipes a fat strip up your pussy before pulling his fingers from your entrance to suck there instead.

“Damn,” you say breathlessly. “You stuck there or something?”

Hyunjin makes you yelp when he roughly drags his tongue back to your nub. You shoot him a warning look that only makes him laugh. “Weren’t you telling me not to stop?” You huff, rolling your eyes and looking away dramatically.

Hyunjin doesn’t let you bicker before he sits up away from your cunt. Although your cunt is swollen and sensitive, you can’t help but chase the heat of his mouth when he lets go.

You whine and collapse on the couch, arm and back slightly aching from keeping you upright. You can’t imagine how tired his jaw must be from making you finish, but he wears your cum like a trophy on his face. Hyunjin keeps a dazed smile on, leaning back until his back perches on the arm-rest of the couch

“Ugh,” You groan from his shit-eating grin, closing your legs and sitting upright. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Hyunjin throws his head back and laughs, picking it back to give you a false frown. “I made you cum, and that’s how you repay me?” He pouts, “Don’t try and run away from me again.” Your breath gets caught at his words. He most likely meant it as a joke, but you can’t help feeling almost guilty about leaving him high and dry that night. Maybe you should finally make it up to him.

“Do you want me to…return the favor?”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen for a moment, seemingly surprised that you even offered. You’re waiting for him to shift in his seat and begin to unbuckle his belt, but he stays on his ass comfortably. “Nah, that’s okay.” He smiles charmingly. “You can kiss me instead.”

You groan, pretending that the butterflies erupting in your stomach are just the aftershocks from your orgasm. Hyunjin laughs again, harder this time. He’s too busy closing his eyes and giggling at your reactions to see you crawl forward. Too busy wiping the hilarious tears to notice that you’ve puckered your lips and leaned in.

This time, you’re the one smiling when he squeaks in your mouth.

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #skz hyunjin #hyunjin stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin hwang #hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin

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tradgedyinwaves · 4 months ago

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First Choice - Part 7

Part seven of this Poly141! x fat!reader tw: anxiety, hinting at self-harm, mostly just fluffy

You woke up in your own bed, dressed in your pajamas with the smell of bacon and coffee filtering through your apartment. You lived alone. Scrambling out of bed, you rushed into the living space, sliding on your socks, only to find Simon and Kyle making breakfast while Johnny and John were cleaning up the blankets and pillows they’d found in your hall closet.

“You’re still here?” you asked, stare darting between the men in the kitchen and the men in the living room. “Well, of course, doll. Didn’t want to leave your door unlocked. Wouldn’t be very safe,” John stated, folding over the last of the quilts. Johnny took the stack of blankets and smiled warmly at you, whispering a good morning before slipping around you to put the blankets back in the closet.

“But I’m…changed,” you whispered, looking down at the baggy tee and pajama pants with cute little penguins all over. John stepped over to you and took your hands, smiling softly. “That was me, doll. I only changed your pants and top and then put you to bed.” Your eyes bugged as you pulled out the neckline of your shirt and looked down. Yup, still wearing your bra from the day before. Quickly dropping the shirt, you hooked a finger in the bottoms and checked your panties. Yup, same as the day before.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you replied meekly, suddenly very aware that while this man hadn’t seen you naked, he’d seen enough. Saw the stretch marks and the dimples in your flesh. Saw the scars that littered the tops of your thighs, silvery white in their age. Saw everything you tried to hide from the world and he could tell you weren’t keen on it. “Of course, little one. Anything for you.”

John nodded and walked away, disappearing into the kitchen for a mug of coffee. You watched him go before Kyle was presenting you with your favorite mug filled with coffee. “Wasn’t sure how you take it, but I saw the mug on the drying rack,” Kyle explained, giving you a soft smile. “Oh, this is fine. Thank you,” you stammered out, looking down at the bitter, brown liquid.

Lifting the cup to your lips, you sipped and made a face, scrunching up your nose and shaking your head. “Alright, not the black coffee type,” Kyle chuckled, taking your mug and disappearing back into the kitchen. You followed him this time, telling him exactly what you’d like in your coffee while sitting down at your dinner table, a table that until this morning was covered in paperwork from your job. Now it was all neatly stacked and set on the sideboard, out of the way so all five of you could sit around the table.

By the time you’d sipped your way through half your mug, the table was laden down with all kinds of breakfast foods and a pot of coffee. John sat at the head of the table with Simon on his and Kyle on his left. Johnny sat next to Simon while you found yourself on the other side of Kyle. It was strange to you that your table was being used for something other than work and was now surrounded by you and four men who had apparently adopted you or decided you needed their protection, you weren’t sure yet.

Everyone ate in silence, the only sound being the cutlery scraping across plates. The silence was comfortable, not the kind where you feel anxious to say something to break it up or being the good host. But where silence was, there was thinking and that always led to you opening your mouth.

“Wh-Why are you all here?” you asked, looking down at the half eaten plate of food before you. If you’d thought it was quiet before, that had nothing on the silence that now rang through the room as each man stopped eating and paused to look at you. “We like ya, pet. Thought that went without saying?” Kyle answered for them all, watching you curiously.

“Y-you like me? All of you?”

Probably going to keep this story more fluffy than anything else. Might end it soon, but I'm not really sure where I'm going with it.

<- Part 6 Part 8 ->

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dollwrites · 2 years ago

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𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 — 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!housekeeper!reader, this is a dark fic, dub con, power imbalance, suggested age gap, rough sex, gagging, creampie / basically forced breeding, enji is a big meanie, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ dabi was supposed to be my first mha character but daddy won sorry. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

for once, during your shifts in the Todoroki household, you were breathing easy. you hum, quietly to yourself, as you scrub each dish, before rinsing the suds away to stack it in the draining rack. usually, you were already aching, with your face shoved in a couch cushion with your ass in the air, taking whatever Enji felt like you deserved that day. more often than not, you’d be crying by the time he finished, and tossed you into the floor like a discarded cumrag, smelling like him and shuddering. you told yourself you only kept coming back because you needed the money, but there were other jobs out there. nicer families to work for.

it was the fear that had a grip on you.

when Enji would bark your name, you would always freeze. he only ever acknowledged you when he needed someone to drain his balls anyways, so you knew what you would be doing for the next hour or so.

you were glad that ( it seemed like ) today would be easier on your body than normal. Enji hadn’t left his bedroom yet, and you were almost finished with the dishes. you had to mop the floors and tidy up the bedrooms, and then you could finally leave.

but the running water in the sink silences his usually too-heavy-to-miss footsteps, and you had no idea Enji was coming until you felt his warmth radiating against your back and your eyes widen. “M—Mister Todoroki, I didn’t hear you come i—“

“Stick your little ass out more,” he rasped, one massive hand pawing at your waist, thumb digging into your tummy to bend you into an arch, and you whine as you comply, gripping the platter tight in one hand and the sponge in the other, “the hell ‘m I paying you so goddamn much for, again? There’s cheaper housemaids, you know.”

“S—sir—“

his free hand hooks around your throat and guides your head back to rest the crown against his sternum, pretzeling you into an unnatural S shape and you cower below his massive form. the expanse of his chest seems miles long from this angle, his harsh features twisted into a wicked scowl. you squint, trying not to lock on to his furious eyes, and stared at his mouth instead. “P—please—“

Enji doesn’t even hear your pathetic, little plea, pushing his gargantuan body against yours, he pins you to the countertop, knocking the breath out of you.

“You’re a tight, little cocksleeve, so you’re worth just a little bit more than those old bags that clean twice as good as you do.” he snarls, hunching over to smear his open mouth over your forehead, and a wave of hot breath tickles your countenance, “but you’d better remember that and start acting like the pricey, set of fuckholes you are. If your back’s not arched, and that ass isn’t on display for me at all times going forward, I’m gonna start cutting your pay. You’ll take twice the cock, though. Am I clear?”

with your bottom lip trembling, you nod with wide eyes, holding the plate closer to your chest. you weren’t sure why you still gripped it, other than you simply needed something to hold on to, something to use as a shield, even if it was a useless one.

Enji quirked a brow, tilted his head of one side, and skewed his lips to bare his teeth. “My question requires a verbal response, whore.”

eyes big and nervous, you release the plate and sponge and allow them to slip back into the soapy water, splashing your top as they do so, but you try to wrap your smaller hands around his forearm when you feel his fingers wanting to tighten around your neck, threatening for you to submit to him or face the severe consequences. “Y—yes sir!” you stammer, holding on to the hardest muscle you’ve ever felt contract under your fingertips.

the hand on your waist careens downward and forces its way between your thighs, and you squirm when calloused fingertips, as rough as sandpaper, rub hard against your panties, “I thought I told you about this, too.” he hisses, coaxing a damp patch against his fingers as he kneads your sensitive sex through the lingerie. you whimper; Enji had made it beyond clear— panties were forbidden. that way, he could easily bend you over any piece of furniture in his home and fuck you without the irritation of having to strip you first. but the skirt he demanded you wear as part of your uniform was much too short, and when you scrubbed the floors on your hands and knees, if you weren’t wearing anything underneath, every inch of your most vulnerable section was exposed. you were embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out, wriggling atop his hand. even though he’s much too rough with your softer, more fragile body, it reacts by pooling slick, attempting to ease the friction he’s causing. “T—the skirt is just so short, I—“

“How many times?” he barks, effectively shutting you up as he wraps his fist around the waistband, “How many times have I had to rip them off of you?”

a soft plea for mercy dies on your tongue. a lot. so many times that you were running out of undies. “T—too many…”

with one, brisk jerk, he’s shredded the fabric, pulling the wad of damp cotton from between your legs in his fist. your body’s jostled by the force, and you gasp, knocked off balance, but pinned too tight against the sink to fall.

“And you still wore them today?”

“I won’t wear them anymore,” you add in a desperate breath. “I— I promise I won’t, p— please don’t be angry with me, I’ll be goo—!“ you were tripping over your own words, terrified of what he had in mind for a punishment. his voice was husky and diabolically low, all of his muscles taut, and you were most afraid of being on the receiving end of his strength if he took the notion to strangle you; you were in a most compromising position. however, your promise to behave is cut off as he jams your own, tattered panties into your mouth, using his thick, long digits to shove the fabric all the way to the back of your throat, and your bargaining melts into a helpless gurgling. the tips of his fingers tease the gag reflex he knew was there, and your eyes well up with tears as you stare up at him, attempting ( and failing ) to push the lingerie out with your tongue. it was only after he pulled his fingers free that you bite down on the underwear, and taste yourself.

“I don’t have the time to punish you properly,” he growls, shoving you further over the sink. you’re swept off your feet, and they dangle a few inches from the floor, the very tips of your toes barely dragging against it, hands scrambling to find solidity, and planting your palms against the bottom of the sink, soapy water sloshing, soaking your shirt, overflowing into the floor. “I’ve got somewhere to be, but, I need a fuck first.” the way he said it made your stomach turn. he wasn’t asking. he wasn’t even trying to pretend that you had a say in what he did with your body. he reaches between your bodies to retrieve his cock, which you are not surprised is already solid and mighty ( you swore he was hard every time he got the chance to degrade you ), and without so much as a moment for you to suck in a breath and prepare yourself, he forces his way inside.

he was so fucking big.

you whimper, blinking back tears. had you not been gagged with your own panties, you would’ve screamed. no matter how many times he used you, your body never adjusted to just how thick he was. your walls have no choice but to stretch to their limit, kissing every angry vein, sealing around his base when he bottoms out. you swear, with the force he likes to drive himself into you, and his impossible size, he must not care if he bursts through your belly. it definitely felt like he might— there was a distinct pressure against your lower abdomen, and you knew that had you not been smushed against the countertop, the shape of his cock would bulge against your navel.

Enji groans, dropping his head back. “You’ve still got the tightest cunt I’ve ever conquered,” he may have meant it as a compliment, but you could do very little besides yowl through your gag and kick your feet as he pounds you, hard and fast, desperately trying to find something to hold on to that wasn’t water, “she never quite gets used to my cock, does she? Still too big for her?” you could hear the splashing as the dishwater rains down on the floor, and you knew that once he was done with you, you would still have to clean up the mess he was making.

nodding, you try to reach both hands down between your legs, instead. you couldn’t pull him out, you knew that, but you could try and soothe your poor, abused sex by cupping it with one hand, your other trying to push against his herculean thigh in hopes to slow him down.

“Good,” he grunts, releasing your throat and grabbing both of your arms at the elbows, jerking your hands away from your own body. with a pitiful whine, you clench your fists as he wrenches your arms back, and uses the new leverage to toss you back and forth, meeting his merciless fucking, “the way you clench when you’re trying to handle my cock…” leaning with all of his weight against your back, he pants into the shell of your ear, “it only makes me want to fuck your useless, little brains out. Harder, and faster.” each word is emphasized as he does just that, pounding you so brutally that you see stars behind your eyelids, shaking you back and forth violently— to the point it made you lightheaded. you squeal and beg and choke on your gag, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, tears on your cheeks.

you didn’t want to admit it ( and couldn’t, even if you wanted to ), but the constant battering of his thick tip into a cluster of delicate nerves had driven you over the edge. it was relentless, the way he destroyed your body and your mind; each time his cock hit the bundle in you, your eyelids fluttered, and your brain turned to mush.

somewhere amidst the cruel and bestial assault, you’d dropped off. you fell apart, legs shaking and core pulsing, milking him more fervently, until you gave into the intensity of the orgasm and your eyes rolled back.

he saw this, and moaned in approval, “Don’t black out, slut. I’m about to flood your guts.” his cock was throbbing when he gave you his deepest, hardest thrusts. you yelp in protest when the head of his cock bumps your cervix, but you could do absolutely nothing to stop it, not with the mountainous man holding you down with every last ounce of his weight. you simply had to take the pressure, and rope after rope of warmth that he shoots into you. your toes curl when he pulls back to slam himself home one last time, and the last few spurts of his release dribble out of your quivering hole when he pulls out.

letting go of your arms and stepping back, he tucks himself back into his uniform as you collapse. first, into the sink, and then, when your feet hit the floor, your knees buckle and you slide into a trembling, messy heap in the floor. you can feel the puddle of soapy water under your bum, it’s soaked the rug, too. exhausted, panting, with your thighs vibrating and your sex clenching uncontrollably, you sag against the side of the cabinet door. you shy closer to it, trying to meld into the wooden panel when Enji steps closer, and grabs your chin to tilt it up. your panties still lodged in your mouth, you look up at him with glassy eyes, wincing at his very touch.

“You’re staying late tonight, after you’ve finished your cleaning duties I want you to wait for me to come home and ruin you again, on your knees by the door like a proper whore.” he says, in a matter-of-fact baritone. you nod slowly.

you were, once again, fucked into complete obedience.

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