#and that's what sex about in my young eyes

[xomakara]

Be Mine [Part 1]

SUMMARY | You’re being stalked and getting creepy and filthy messages from someone named Unknown. Little did you know that person might be closer than you think.

PAIRINGS |  Yunho x Reader

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked

GENRE |  smut, thriller, random fluff/comedy 

CONTENT/WARNINGS | stalking, creepy and filthy test messages, profanity, mentions of drinking, lots of sexual acts/thoughts, voyeurism, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), public sex, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex, vaginal penetration, creampie, multiple orgasms

LENGTH |  14,264 words

TAGLIST |  @heechwe @lovetaroandtaemin

NETWORKS |  @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity

@othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety @dove-net

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Big, big, thank yous to @unholywriters, @kwanisms, and @lovetaroandtaemin for beta-reading this. I couldn't have edited this without your help! Big shoutout to @pars-ley for the beautiful banner! I appreciate you all so much! This is different from what I usually write (I know, I said that about a lot of other fics) but thriller is not my forte but I decided to delve into it. I hope you all like it and see you in part 2! 💚

He stood in the shadows, looking up into your window, for the fifth night. Your neighbors were out, their car idling in their driveway, leaving him unobserved. You, too, were unaware of his presence, busy getting fucked, face first in the sheets.

You looked oh so sweet, taking that cock. Taking it again and again while he rubbed his hand down the front of his jeans and wondered if you'd look this sweet taking his own. Your eyes glazed over in lust, face contorted into an expression that would have given any man cause to smile, you had no idea that he was right outside, staring into you.

Not that he planned on fucking you. Not anytime soon. He'd thought about it. Of course. Would you give yourself to him the way you were so easily giving yourself to another?

You had a type. Pretty college boys. Trust fund kids. Cocksure and full of themselves, despite the lack of worldly experience they actually had. Oh, he was handsome, tall and lean, but he wasn't a boy. No. He was a man, all man, and he would fuck you the way you needed to be fucked, the way your inexperienced lovers couldn't hope to.

His gaze never wavered as he pulled his length out from his pants, fisting his already throbbing cock to the sight of your soft skin covered in a sheen of perspiration. His feet scuffled further into the darkness to make certain no passers by were likely to happen along while his thumb grazed along the slit, sending a shock of pleasure up the shaft.

All the while, he thought about how hot and tight and wet your cunt would feel wrapped around his cock, bouncing on top of him, sliding him in and out of your snatch. Wondered what pretty sounds would pass those plump pink lips and if that beautiful gaze would glaze over just as pretty when he pumped his seed deep inside of you.

He watched as your young lover finished off before you had a chance to cum. Watch as he shrugs on his clothes, giving you a small kiss before leaving your apartment. Watch as you laid back in bed, fingers reaching for that favorite dildo of yours, your only companion these days.

A smug satisfaction washed through him as he saw you glancing into the dark corners of your room and through the curtainless window. Even in the dim light of the moon, he knew you didn't see him, your mind having no reason to think you needed to keep the bedroom windows covered, especially now with the tall apartment complex at the front of your building blocking your view.

So, instead, you leaned forward, giving the viewer, whether you knew you had one or not, an ample view as you slid your toy in and out of that warm pussy. So pretty and so sad to do this alone when you could have had a nice strong cock between your legs right at this very moment, replacing your poor toy.

As his balls grew tight and he blew his load, all over the front of the complex, the man promised himself he would visit you soon. Very, very soon.

"Yunho!"

"Oof!" Yunho grunted out as his friend threw herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck and nearly strangling him in the process.

"Geeze, woman!" He grunted out as her petite body continued squeezing his neck, laughing and pulling him closer as she tried to squeeze the life out of him. "You act like you didn't just see me last week."

"Yeah but now you're part of the company!" You gushed happily, pulling back with a brilliant smile plastered across your face. "We have to celebrate. Drinks after work!"

"You think Hongjoong is going to agree to that?" Yunho questioned, though his smile was already spreading, enjoying the way you squealed excitedly and dragged him towards the office the rest of the way.

"Pfftttt. Like Hongjoong even does a lot of work here," you teased, bumping your shoulder lightly into his side before giving him a cheeky grin as you continued your stride into the office and pushed the door open.

"Someone's talking shit," a voice spoke up as soon as they entered the room.

Yunho tilted his head up, laughing as the older man pinned you with a fierce stare. "Don't pretend you don't deserve every word of it."

"Traitor," Hongjoong cursed with a laugh as he leaned his hip on the desk, arms crossing over his chest as he gave him his attention instead. "Thanks for agreeing to do this."

"Who am I to turn down an old friend," he replied honestly, and you quickly turned and bounced onto your feet.

"The real question," you started, sauntering over towards your boss, "is who's paying for the drinks."

Hongjoong cocked a brow at you, smirking as you danced from side to side before him. "I think you should buy drinks for the whole company. Since you seem so insistent."

Your face twisted into a look of mock horror. "Is the almighty Kim Hongjoong, owner, president, and CEO of ATZ Gaming, telling his most beautiful employee to empty her wallet?"

"I thought I was the most beautiful person here?" Another voice chimed in, Seonghwa stepping in, the second and most trusted employee of ATZ Gaming after Hongjoong.

"You are," you cooed at him, not batting an eyelash, "but I have to throw in some extra charm to get what I want."

Seonghwa chuckled, leaning back against the wall next to Yunho, clasping his friend on the shoulder in greeting. "What is it you want, little liar?"

"Buy us drinks after work," you sassed, grinning brightly at both the men, turning on them. Seonghwa clucked his tongue and glanced over at Hongjoong. "Hey, don't ask him, I was the victim here," you pleaded, hands flailing out dramatically.

"Are we finally having a party?" Yeosang suddenly peeked his head up over the corner of his computer, hair mussed from his earlier activity. "I have some news that could definitely be celebrated with a drink."

"Yo! Yunho is finally here!" Wooyoung called out loudly from down the hall, legs carrying him faster as he waved excitedly. He looked quite fetching as he came around the bend, dress pants pulling tight over his toned muscles, light blue shirt fitted against his upper body. "Welcome to the madhouse!"

Hongjoong, unable to keep the charade anymore, laughed and clasped a hand on Yunho's shoulder. "When I asked all my friends to join me in this company I started, I did not imagine all of them would act like a bunch of kindergarteners, but what can I expect?"

"You love us!" San and Mingi announced in unison as the two rounded the corner.

Jongho followed shortly after, stretching his back as he joined the rest. "Tell us we don't have anything scheduled, please," Jongho spoke up as he settled into a comfortable seat.

"There was supposed to be a party planned for Yunho today but someone failed in their task."

You rolled your eyes, glaring at your boss. "The lovely Hongjoong hasn't agreed to pay yet."

The office of ATZ Gaming was full of the same individuals from middle school, the same ones he had grown up with and spent more time with than anyone else. Hongjoong was the owner of the company. An IT expert and coder. The man was a genius with all things electronic, and his vision was the game of the year right now. An RPG simulation video game that drew so many of its users that it was slowly creating an empire of its own.

You were hired as the lead writer. After high school and starting university, you'd immediately fluttered into a variety of career options that had suited your style. Advertising, commercial art, animation. Though you always ended up circling back around to game telling and concept art, so when you heard that Hongjoong had quit his job and was striking out on his own, you were one of the first calls he'd made.

When you began writing the storyline for Hongjoong's game, and word started going around how good it was, Seonghwa quickly joined forces, a PR rep in the works, followed by San, whose graphics were lovely, and Wooyoung, a known social media sensation and marketer. And the game was finally taking off.

Yeosang and Mingi came along as programmers after the two had spent nights working and perfecting a gaming system that had completely baffled even Hongjoong. And their reputation followed soon after.

Last, but not least, Jongho. Despite being the youngest of the crew, he'd been an IT prodigy that helped support and maintain their website as the company's traffic exploded, helping to launch their product and set them apart from the others.

Yunho, being the newest hire for their sales and marketing department, was familiar with all of their talents, and would be responsible for marketing their product with an enthusiastic eye that would be a strong addition to their group.

"Of course, I'm happy to take all you dorks out for a drink," Hongjoong pulled his attention, glancing over at everyone and holding a stern finger up. "After you all have finished the reports you were supposed to turn in."

"Boo!" You stuck your tongue out at your boss, huffing out your frustration as you trudged over towards your cubicle and dropped into the chair, head buried into the crook of your arms.

"Cheer up princess," Seonghwa laughed as he swiped up his report, moving over and handing the page over to you. "Have a glance over this before I turn it in."

You groaned louder, head shaking at him as he shrugged.

Yunho simply stood quietly off to the side, watching his friends go through the mundane tasks of their work, yet they all appeared so cheerful and energetic in this atmosphere, constantly teasing and cracking jokes. A wide smile spread across his lips. His fingers were twitching in anticipation of being able to do work for the company, already wanting the day to be over so he could go have that drink with his friends and have some fun.

After three long hours, you finally shuffled out of your chair, grabbing onto Seonghwa's elbow, leaning up against the elder and looking up at him with those huge doe eyes. "I'm hungry and my ass is sore, please tell me we are done for today and can have that drink."

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong. "May the princess get drunk this fine Friday?"

You snorted, slapping his chest with a smirk as he grinned and pinched at the end of your cheek.

"Why not? It's Friday, and it will be an evening well spent," Hongjoong smirked, shutting his computer down and shrugging on his leather jacket. "Come on. My treat. As a welcome to the team, Yunho."

He sat in the corner of the bar, watching as you smiled up at your friends and playfully ran your fingers along the chest of an older man in a button-down shirt, the two of you whispering things back and forth. The group was a large one, a rowdy bunch that was currently taking up several tables off to the side. A good amount of them were handsome, all young and athletic. Different than your usual flavor of college boys and nerds.

He watched you and the man share a quiet joke. Watched as the male leaned in to whisper something against the shell of your ear, watched the pretty curve of your mouth part, giggle flitting free at the secret passing between you.

His stomach tightened, not because he was upset, or because he didn't like how he watched as your hand curled into the fabric at the male's waist and tugged at the expensive threads there, but because he imagined it was himself you were whispering to, him whose pants your fingers were digging into, him whose warmth you were stealing away with that pretty little smile.

What were you whispering about? What dirty, naughty little secrets were you whispering? Was it about getting fucked tonight? Hard and thorough. This man looked like he would satisfy you more than those little boys. This man didn't seem shy. Not with the way his hand brushed over your bottom, fingers cupping against the supple skin there for a moment before falling away.

When the hours passed, and the laughter began to dim, the group decided it was time to retire, and the group departed the establishment. He stayed behind. Making sure to keep close to the exit while also blending in. He watched as you and the man walked along the sidewalk, arm tucked under his, your soft giggle wafting in his ear when he bent low and whispered again.

He kept to the shadows as he followed, thankful that the night was cloudy and obscured his view, especially when you stopped walking and tipped your head back, gazing up into the handsome man's face, the two standing close, talking quietly as if they had forgotten the world around them. When the man leaned down and brushed his lips over yours, that's when he truly felt a twist in his stomach, a heavy, sickening roll.

His fists clenched into balls, unable to drag his eyes away from the sight. Your body stiffened at first, unsure, clearly the sudden motion took you by surprise, but when you leaned forward and melted against him, that was when his chest clenched.

When his hand came around your waist and he pulled you forward and dipped his hand down and grabbed the bottom of your ass, it was hard not to grit his teeth.

When the male shoved you against the brick wall of the nearby alley and dragged his lips down along the column of your neck, his eyes flared.

How far were you willing to take it in public? This would cause a scandal, wouldn't it?

Did that make you excited?

Did you want everyone in town to see, to watch, as he bent you over and fucked your little brains out? Or did you just want to get caught, the thrill of potentially being seen.

Did it matter?

As long as that cock got shoved inside of you, as long as the pretty moans escaped your parted lips, then who gave a fuck.

As your knees buckled, and you moaned out as the man's fingers curled under your skirt and sank into the soft flesh between your legs, his feet started to move. When the man hoisted you up and pressed you harder against the wall, and your arms and legs wrapped around him, the sounds of slick and wet mixing as the male's length entered you and pulled back out, his stride picked up speed.

Fuck, what he wouldn't give to have you in his arms, hot and wet and needy and letting him fuck you wherever and whenever the fuck he wanted.

When the male's movements picked up, body thrusting harder and faster between your spread legs, he watched the way you moaned louder and threw your head back against the wall, and he wished it were him taking you, ruining you.

You were enjoying it. Clearly. Enjoying that big dick sliding in and out. Enjoying that full feeling, letting the man claim you as his.

You looked like an absolute angel as he fucked you, a filthy fucking angel, hair tangled over your shoulders, the silk strands clinging to your cheeks as the sweat formed, skin glowing underneath the flickering streetlight overhead.

This man was ruining you. Just the way he would soon ruin you too.

How he longed to have that pink tongue swirl over his own, feel those tits press against his chest, his length snug and buried deep.

Soon.

Very soon.

When you cried out, your orgasm splashed all over his shaft, the male was right there behind you, his hips erratic, chasing after his own high. As he painted the inside of you, cum spilling and dripping down the sides of his dick as you clenched tightly to milk him for everything he had, the man pushed his hips harder against yours.

You had a completely satisfied expression, limp and tired as you came down from that intense moment, the passion that had overcome both of you leaving you entirely spent.

There was a sweet giggle as the man placed a kiss on your lips, a soft murmuring, another sweet peck to your lips, and the two of you stumbled away together, the man holding onto your waist, keeping your spent, stumbling body upright.

His feet had carried him forward when you disappeared, following the wet steps down the darkened alley. That was where he saw it, a pair of pale pink, soaked, cotton panties, hanging over a discarded can.

His hand shot forward and he gripped them, crushing the fabric between his palms and pulling it back with him.

Soon.

He would visit very, very soon.

Seonghwa made his way towards your desk, setting down a steaming cup of your favourite tea. "Okay, princess. Go home."

"I'm almost done with this report. Give me twenty minutes,” you replied, smashing the keyboard.

"Pfft. You said that four hours ago," he scolded, squatting down next to your desk so he was level with you. "Go home. Finish it tomorrow. Come into work late. Sleep in. Whatever will make the princess happy."

"Why is Y/N always getting the special treatment? Hyung, aren't I cute too?" Wooyoung sulked, tugging on his collar and pouting his plump lips. "Tell me you love me more."

"Back off, lover boy," you grumbled, sipping at the tea he'd brought over, moaning softly at the delicate flavor. "Hush and mind your own business."

Yunho laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder, a soothing motion, urging you to finish your work for the night. "The sooner you finish, the sooner we can get dinner, if you're down for that."

"I want Seonghwa's undivided love too!" San whined loudly, stepping around Jongho as he shoved his way past Wooyoung and Yeosang. "I want my cute hyung to baby me too."

Seonghwa quickly backed his way into the elevator before the crew ganged up on him.

"I have a date, so I gotta get going," he smiled, lifting his hand and  giving the boys a two-finger salute. "Y/N, have a good night! Everyone else, see you all tomorrow."

You turned to Yunho, a bright smile on your face. "That offer for dinner still on the table?"

"For you, always," Yunho smirked, leaning down and grabbing your purse, placing the strap around his wrist before pulling you into his side with a gentle tug. "How does pizza and a movie sound? You can go to mine, or we can go to yours, whatever works for you."

You didn't notice Wooyoung's raised eyebrow, the slightly quirked up lip as he observed the two of you. "Oh? Something going with you two that we should know about? You've been spending a lot of time together recently."

"Shh," you stuck your tongue out at the teasing male. "Jealous?"

"You're not my type," Wooyoung sassed back, wrapping his hands over the shoulders of Yeosang and Mingi. "You've never been my type."

"Sure, says the guy who had a crush on me in high school," you called out, shoving your keyboard back into place and shoving the papers on your desk aside. You swung your purse over your shoulder, hooking an arm through Yunho's.

"Hey, that was years ago, I've grown. I have better taste," the younger male started with a childish scoff, pulling the other two guys along towards the exit.

Yunho just stood and listened as you waved and stuck your tongue out at Wooyoung, yelling at the rest of your friends a goodnight. You were such an adorable, flirty brat with the others. His smile never waned. It was fun watching the interactions and teasing. His hand curled over yours, pulling you along next to him.

"Seriously, I can have food delivered to my place, or we can head to a drive-thru," he paused and shrugged his jacket off, dropping it over your shoulders, adding an extra layer for warmth. "Which will it be?"

Your fingers dug into the thick fabric as you peered up at him through your lashes, admiring the smile stretched wide and happy across those soft lips. You loved hanging out with Yunho. He was a nice escape from work, and outside the office, it felt more intimate. More personal. Like you were the ones having fun with each other, not work friends just playing around in the comfort of each other's presence.

"Oh my God," you squealed, tugging at his hand excitedly, "are you inviting me over?"

He snickered, pulling his jacket closed over your chest. "If you'd like. We could share a pizza, have some wine, listen to music..."

"Is this a date, Jeong Yunho? A date-date?" You puffed your cheeks at him. "Not as friends, right?"

His finger hooked under your chin as he leaned in, causing your eyes to flutter as you stared at the mischievous expression on his handsome face, unable to break away. His head cocked slightly. "And if I said yes? What would you do about it?"

A fierce blush warmed the tips of your ears and you pulled his jacket up further, trying to hide the excitement building, the giddiness bubbling up. You nodded, teeth biting into the meat of your lower lip. "Let's just say... I wouldn't mind if it was a date."

You pretended not to notice that he was still holding onto your hand as the two of you left, pretended not to hear the excitement in the sound of his laugh as he guided the two of you down the quiet sidewalk.

He could have anyone, so why did he pick you? Okay sure, you two knew each other and had been friends since middle school. And sure you had the biggest, fattest crush on him in high school and your feelings never went away, so... Why not?

You had your fair share of dating and sleeping around, a couple flings and things that lasted for a few months. It was easy to find dates and go on a variety of dates and sleep with attractive guys... yet they never scratched that itch. They always left something to be desired, and eventually, the shine would wear off and you'd both move on and that would be that.

It wasn’t that the guys weren't attractive, weren't charming, weren't funny, or weren't sweet. They just... Never clicked. You'd have sex with them, unsatisfying sex at that,  that made you walk around the rest of the day wondering 'is this it? Are these the types of guys I've been going for?'

Seonghwa was the closest to having something steady. It was sweet, comfortable. Until your spark just kinda... died? It wasn't anything either of you did. No drama. No cat fight or argument. It just naturally fizzled out and the two of you stepped back into your friendships, and when either of you got horny, the other person was always a phone call away.

But with Yunho? Well, that was a whole other animal. It was butterflies. Nerves and awkward laughter and racing hearts. You felt young and silly again. And you were positive you weren't the only one. The attraction was a mutual thing, which made it more thrilling. You didn't just imagine it, and the heat simmering and smoldering was equal between you.

He lived just outside the main district in a cute studio apartment over an art gallery. Your breath caught every time you saw his smile and his arm slung around your shoulder, keeping you close, that hand drifting back and forth along your arm, knuckles tickling at the flesh at your collar bone as he giggled.

"Home sweet home," he stated proudly as the two of you climbed the steps to his home and stepped inside, toeing his shoes off. "It’s tiny, but cozy and private."

As soon as you stepped into the door, you were in awe. It was exactly like Yunho - handsome and modest and masculine. A king-size bed with deep maroon sheets, dark curtains, and lots and lots of pillows. And his desk had several pictures in frames, displaying memories. There were tons of photographs, including lots of you and the guys from when you were kids and teens, to more current versions, the most recent from the company welcome party for him.

"Jesus," you breathed out in a rush, stumbling forward as your eyes continued to scan the space, landing on the long sofa that sat to the right and his kitchen which looked tiny, "wow, look at you, mister fancy pants. You really landed yourself on your feet."

"Ha!" Yunho cackled, hand clasping onto yours. "It's nothing like where you and the other's are living, but it's paid for and cozy. Let me order the pizza, then we can get comfortable."

"By comfy, do you mean cuddle up and watch a romantic drama?" you wiggled your eyebrows.

He hummed, pulling his phone from his pocket. "Will that make you feel good?"

"Are you offering to make me feel good? Orrrr..." you started.

He shook his head, a laugh gracing his lips. "The usual order?"

You gave a nod, stomach rumbling as if answering his question for you.

He smirked, snagging a pillow and tossing it next to the spot on the couch you would claim, waving his cell phone to remind you to wait patiently while he orders food for you. He vanished into the kitchen, a silly smile on his lips.

You wiggled out of his jacket and tucked the large pillow against you, hugging the warm clothing close to your body. If you closed your eyes, you could easily imagine him embracing you. His scent surrounded you, and you found that it helped calm your jumbled nerves, keeping that level head that usually evaded you whenever this tall, handsome giant was standing too close, looking at you with those intense, kind eyes.

Fuck. This was an actual date.

With Yunho.

A dream come true.

And just how were you supposed to handle yourself now?

Yunho had finally started paying you more attention lately, and sure, the group hung out a lot together, but this was a little bit different, right? It certainly felt more than friendship, and if you were reading his signals right, then the interest was there, especially tonight.

So then, maybe it was possible for the two of you to work. Maybe?

When Yunho finally rejoined you in the living area of his home, he held up two glasses and a bottle, a wide grin spread across his lips. "Drinks?"

He glanced around the area as the two of you chatted, laughing and making small talk while you waited on the pizzas. As the film played and the food was eaten, you relaxed into the sofa, cuddled up at his side, eyes locked on the screen. His fingers caressed the strands of your hair and rubbed a gentle path over your arm, touch drifting back and forth, but not far.

There was comfort, and you sighed. His affection was soft and steady. You relaxed against him, happy to finally have some alone time with him, just the two of you in your little bubble. His scent enveloped you, and his arms cradled you like you belonged here. 

"Can I ask you something? You can always refuse," you nodded, a curious gaze moving over to find him chewing on his lower lip and looking at the floor. "Okay. Well... Do you... Am I... Would it be too weird if I told you that I really like you? And not just as a friend?"

You took the moment to process this question, staring at him for a solid five seconds before you sat up. "Wait what?" you blinked in confusion.

"Oh god, nevermind! This is awkward now," he ran a hand through his hair and you tried not to laugh as his face turned a bit pink and looked away. "Just forget I ever asked."

"Hey, come back," your hands cupped his face and you turned him so you could look into his eyes again. You tilted your head up, lips brushing against his. "I like you too."

He didn't speak and just closed the distance. His lips moved against yours, slowly parting open, pressing firmly yet softly as you relaxed your mouth against his and let the pleasure of the feeling flow through you. Your hands ran along his face, into his hair, curling the soft strands around your fingertips.

The kiss is soft and gentle. Unhurried and eager, but not rushed. His arms tightened around your waist, and you moved in his lap, adjusting your legs on either side of his hips and seating yourself properly, so you were facing him and comfortably slotted in.

You nipped playfully at his plump lip and parted your mouth open, smiling against him.

"What's so funny?" Yunho asked, tilting his head at you curiously, tracing his finger along your cheek.

"It's not, I don't know, I was worried that there was an attraction here because I've liked you for ages but thought nothing would happen, but like..." your head dropped onto his shoulder and you stifled the nervous giggles against his throat. "This feels really good? I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that you like me too."

You couldn't help the grin from pulling at your lips and he chuckled.

"Don't you smile at me like that," you said with mock annoyance, pulling back and playfully hitting at his chest. "It's all your fault. You've grown up hotter and even better as the years passed. You're too tall. Too charming. Too sweet. Just everything, it makes my heart jump and I like you, so what now, you idiot?!"

His hands curled tighter around your waist, fingers digging into your shirt and he gazed down at you, a large smile plastered across his lips. "Let's start dating and take things as we go."

"I really like the sound of that," you smiled.

When you returned home that evening, Yunho walked you to your front door and lifted you into a tight hug, inhaling your scent and holding you close for a few more stolen moments. It was only a kiss goodnight; a sweet, passionate, deep kiss that set your skin aflame.

His smile had never been brighter, and you touched your fingers to your lips, feeling the burn of where his kiss still tingled, even though it’d long disappeared. "See you in the morning, okay? I'll meet you at the office. Don't be late."

You giggled, "Don't worry. I won't be."

Now there you were, home alone, wanting nothing more than for those hands to return to you. You sighed contentedly as you slipped the jacket off your body and placed it carefully on your dresser, smiling at the scent that fills the air and reminds you of Yunho. The evening had been perfect, everything just like a fairy tale came to life. You felt on top of the world.

But, like any other person, that peace and serenity would not last forever, not on your side, and especially not for the monsters watching your every move.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

That dinging startled your sleep, but your eyelashes fluttered as the vibrating continued and you groaned, knowing it must be something important. When your phone sounded a second time, the vibration caused a shudder on the surface of your dresser, you reached over and tapped the screen.

The text had your eyes going wide and your blood turning into ice in your veins.

Unknown: Looks like you had fun with your new boy toy. So cute. I wonder what will happen next time.

Unknown: You have a gorgeous smile.

Unknown: Be careful, little doll. Monsters are watching you.

You weren't surprised that Yunho was early the next morning. In fact, you were already seated in the break room, sipping a mug of terrible coffee, half asleep as you stared out of the glass wall, your eyes fixated on the downtown buildings a few blocks away, mind and gaze drifting about aimlessly.

Yunho poked his head through the door, finding your slumped form immediately, that stupid, shy smile coming onto his face. When he joined you at the table, his arms stretched out on either side of you and pulled you gently into his chest. His chin rested on your shoulder as he breathed against your cheek.

"How'd you sleep?" he questioned, a large palm rubbing soothing, firm circles on  your arm.

"I'm so sleepy I might die," you buried your head in his chest. You were not going to tell him about those weird texts or that you tossed and turned all night, eyes glued to the screen in case the person tried texting again. How could you tell him that? Or the others?

He chuckled. "Well, don't die quite yet," his nose nuzzled your hair and his lips brushed your earlobe in a playful nip. "I need my girlfriend around, y'know."

Your heart stuttered, heat and flooded your cheeks. His girlfriend... You liked the sound of that. You glance over his features and study his expression as it lingers for a moment before it drifts back to that smug smile.

"Girlfriend... I like the sound of that," you playfully pushed his arm, biting into your lip and trying not to swoon, his reaction had you floating on cloud nine. "And what would my boyfriend say about the coffee at work, huh?"

"I'll run to the shop in a few," he stated, "Whatever my girl likes."

"Oh God, I really love the sound of that," you nodded.

He stood up straight, pulling you out of the chair and giving you a quick squeeze. "Come with me to get your daily dose of liquid sugar. It's on me."

"Are you guys always going to be gross now?" Wooyoung questioned, dramatically putting a hand over his heart, as you walked past his cubicle, laced hands swinging.

You nodded. "Absolutely. I'll just be loud so everyone can know how much my man adores me."

"Did I hear 'man'?" Hongjoong questioned from his own office space, popping his head out to investigate what had caused your shriek. "Did Yunho finally make a move, because God knows we were about ready to stage an intervention."

"Please, everyone knows she's wanted Yunho since the seventh grade," Seonghwa chimed in, poking his head over his cubicle wall.

"Come on," Yunho laughed, pulling you along to the elevator, "I think we've done enough entertaining."

You flipped a rude gesture over your head as you walked. "Bite me. See if I ever get you guys coffee!"

"What!? I didn't say shit!" Jongho yelped from the back, clearly getting caught up in the shenanigans.

You stopped as the two of you waited outside, leaning up onto the balls of your feet and placing a chaste, sweet kiss against his lips. He hummed happily and melted into the feeling of your kiss. His smile was radiant when you parted ways. He quickly leaned down again, pecking the tip of your nose and before reaching out to grab your hand, keeping them tangled while you both crossed the street towards the closest coffee shop.

The two of you stayed for an hour, enjoying the cozy atmosphere, drinking more coffee and hot chocolate. You enjoyed the company, and you simply couldn't wipe the smile off your face as he watched you from the other side of the table. He seemed in his own blissful thoughts and for a moment, everything felt unreal.

The entire day was filled with giggles and stolen moments. You may have disappeared to his cubicle for a make-out session at lunch when the rest of your coworkers disappeared. He sent suggestive texts throughout the day, making sure you knew just how interested he was.

God, his kisses were fantastic, addictive, and oh-so wonderful, it made the ache between your legs even harder to control. All day, all you could focus on was him and that smile, or his handsome face. Or the feel of his skin as you moved to help him. The way he leaned and followed you around like a lost puppy, unable to take his eyes or his hands off of you, stealing those gentle little touches whenever he could get away with it. It was driving you crazy. You were high on hormones.

Fuck, what was it about the beginning of a new relationship that made you feel drunk, and hyper-sexual? All the excitement and anticipation of what could happen, the chance of being alone or maybe sneaking away for something even more private? You felt like an addict and your thirst would likely be unquenchable.

By the time dinner rolled around, and the crew decided to head to a bar on the waterfront for food and drinks, you were floating on air and Yunho was hugging his arms tight around your middle, chin resting on your shoulder like some protective shield, a happy smile stretched across those gorgeous, pink lips.

"Jesus, you two look disgustingly cute," San chirped up, fiddling with a menu, his elbow leaning on the table.

"Yeah, can you please refrain from being so adorable? We're still processing," Yeosang joined, rubbing his face.

"I'm serious, it's sickly sweet. My heart might just fucking implode," Mingi punctuated his sentence by shoving a fry into his mouth.

"Jealous, much?" You leaned forward, eyebrows raising in challenge as Mingi pouted.

"What I'm wondering is," Yunho held up a finger, waving it around the table and frowning, "who has a pool going. Who guessed that this would happen and who thought we'd make a slow, sluggish journey through hell before admitting our feelings? Someone placed bets. Fess up."

The men shared glances, but not a word was said until Mingi finally gave in and folded. "I mean, you two have been making googly eyes at each other forever, so..."

Hongjoong sighed, giving in to the truth and pulling his wallet from his pocket. "Seonghwa, Mingi, Yeosang, and I bet this would be sometime around high school. Wooyoung and San thought it would have happened by our college graduation. And Jongho was confident that you'd get together sometime this year. So, I guess he won the pool."

"I'm a rich man!" the youngest declared excitedly. "Finally, something goes my way, because those idiots are paying for drinks."

"Dicks. All of you," you piped in, unable to hide the smile and the shake of your head. Your coworkers and best friends were such assholes, and it was hard to remember sometimes. But, you loved them, and they've always had your back. You always had each other's backs.

The group ate and shared drinks for a solid three hours. Things got fuzzy after that, though. A lot fuzzier. Everyone was laughing and taking photos. At one point Wooyoung even shoved a fistful of fried calamari up San's nose, causing you both to screech and sputter from laughter, or the food. You couldn't tell anymore, it was all a happy blur.

When you went to the restroom, a text popped up on the screen. Unknown number. Unknown, again. That dark feeling began to build inside your belly and you took the phone with shaking hands into the stall.

Unknown: Thought I saw something cute.

Unknown: Have fun.

"Who the fuck are you?" you whispered. But of course, no one answered you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he moved his head down further. His tongue flicked a hot and wet trail between your breasts, tasting the salt from your sweat before moving further to the other pert nipple, rolling the nub with his thumb and licking until the buds tightened.

It didn't take much. You'd been starving for his touch all day long, a whole twenty-four hours spent teasing and trying to remain professional in the workplace, and tonight, all you wanted was his touch. You were laying sprawled on the soft sheets of his mattress, clothes haphazardly strewn around the living room and down the hall where the two of you had started stripping them as soon as the door was closed and locked.

Those long, gentle fingers brushed back the strands of hair from your forehead, soaking in your flushed cheeks and hooded eyes with a playful grin. "Feel good, little one?" he questioned with a low, rumbling growl.

The endearment sounded good falling from his lips and you hummed. "Very. Don't stop."

"So demanding," Yunho chuckled, his fingertips brushing over your ribs and side, giving you goosebumps as he trailed a slow path back and forth until his fingers found their way around your soft belly and down towards the lacey fabric of your underwear.

"Want these gone, or on?" his finger looped through a tiny ribbon-like strap.

You smiled, cheeky and without shame, raising your hips against him. "What would you prefer, hm?"

"Honestly?" Yunho dipped his face closer to yours, breathing a sigh into the sensitive area and making you shiver. "I want to stuff your mouth with these pretty little things while I fuck the breath from you."

"Fucking hell, Yunho, I didn't know you were so... so..."

He bit your neck. "Kinky? You'll soon find out how dirty I can be, especially when my sweet, sexy girl is being so good for me and begging so pretty."

"Shit," your breath caught. "Go right ahead."

"Let me know if you get uncomfortable. We can always stop. My main priority is that you enjoy yourself, okay?" His voice was soft and sweet and a complete contrast to the huskier tone he had only seconds prior. It was a side of him you'd never witnessed before. He was gentle, sweet, and made you feel secure, safe, and precious. "You'll always come first."

His big hands slipped your lace underwear past your hips, off over your knees and ankles, balling them in his hands.

"Open wide, little one," he growled softly, a thumb running along your lip as your mouth fell open, "just like a good girl." He slipped the fabric past your teeth, smiling at you, "Oh, there's a good girl. Looking so pretty, panties stuffed in her mouth like a pretty slut."

A finger slipped into your folds, testing your reaction and finding slick desire pooling around his digits. "Fuck, baby, you're soaking, is that all for me?"

"Mmhm..." you moaned.

"Spread those legs nice and wide. Yes, just like that. What a good girl, such a pretty angel. My beautiful babygirl," a second finger dipped inside your dripping core, scissoring and making room for a third. Your hips rose to meet his touch, whimpering as the three fingers stretched your cunt deliciously and touched all the right places inside. His long fingers filled you, but didn't fully satisfy.

"Look at the pretty slut dripping onto my bed sheets. So messy, my perfect little girl. Spread open like a hungry, naughty slut, her sweet little cunt sucking in the three fingers I've been gracious enough to stuff in that tiny, soaked hole. What a treat you are. Can you even last till the real thing?" He curled his fingers upward and a scream tore past the lace, tearing, but the moan from your throat was lewd and loud. "Is this what you imagined? In our cubicles? Bent over, getting fucked over and over until my seed dripped from this perfect little cunt. Oh, the dirty things I have planned for my pretty little angel. And don't you worry, I'm not anywhere near finished with you."

Yunho brought the slick fingers back to his mouth, wrapping his tongue over them, cleaning them with a lust-filled gaze and the roll of his hips. Fuck, he was ready to explode right there at the sight.

"Would my little one like to taste?" He pulled the panties from your mouth, replacing them with his soaked fingers, his thumb brushing against your lips, waiting for approval, and you sucked eagerly, your own tongue joining and savoring the taste.

"Now turn over, hands and knees for your boyfriend," you squealed a little, scrambling to turn around for him, positioning your ass and knees and knowing full well you must look quite the picture. "Fuck. Baby. You really want it, don't you? Need that cock, and fast, huh?" His thick, bare cock, aligned at your entrance, hot and pulsing. A whine rose, needy and hungry. "Talk to me, little one."

"Fuck," you gasped, gripping the sheets in desperation, his voice was thick and hungry and the words, holy hell, the words. "I want it! I want it so badly! I just... please."

"Please, what, little one?" Yunho stroked his length along your folds, coating his cock with the ample slickness leaking from your core. "What is my girl begging for?"

"Fuck me!" you shouted, pushing your hips towards him, "Fuck your girl, please. Please, I'll be good for you, whatever you want!"

"Good answer, baby, such a good girl," his palms grabbed your ass and slid along your thighs and ass, landing on your hips in a firm grip. The wide head of his thick shaft pressed slowly into your cunt. In and out. His breathing hitched with a grunt when you took him in halfway. "Fuck you feel so good, shit."

Big. He's so big, the biggest you ever took, and the best. He stretched you in the most delicious ways and took you exactly where you wanted it. None of your past fucks even held a candle to this man, and he didn't even fully fuck you yet.

"So big... so fucking big." It was a gasp, a moan, a desperate plea, a whispered prayer on your tongue. You needed that thick cock more than you've ever needed any other.

He bottomed out and you groaned at the sudden pressure. "Good?" His voice was a growl and he leaned into you, licking and biting the curve of your shoulder blade and down to the small of your back.

"Fuck, so good." Your words were slurred from lust and ecstasy. "Oh, yes, right there, fuck."

"My perfect girl takes dick so fucking pretty," Yunho purred. His big hands settled on your back, massaging gently. raises tumbled from his lips, soft, husky groans and soft hisses, deep groans. He moved again, so fucking thick and stretching you more, that when his hips thrusted in sharply, you saw stars, arching and shattering under the touch.

Yunho was the name that slipped past your lips in a frantic cry and then a steady moan. 

"I got you, baby," he mumbled against your back, "just let me have you. I'm right here, babygirl."

You turned to face him and found his intense gaze meeting yours. He leaned forward, pressing his lips roughly to yours. His chest flattened on your back as he drove forward harder, faster, and rougher, setting a fast, greedy, and almost desperate pace, wanting to hear and taste every piece of you.

"T-this. This is what I-I needed. This is perfect. Need you. Oh, God... Yes," you were struggling to get words out.

"That's what I like to hear, tell me more. Fucking pretty girl, I think your tight little cunt should be filled with my cum, so no one else will have you. Would you like that, would you want me to fill you until you're sore and gaping?" He drove even deeper, so fucking thick and hard. He grabbed your chin and tipped your head to watch the desperation that crossed his beautiful, sweat-slick features and the lustful sparkle in his eyes.

You whimpered. "Yessss. Cum for me."

"Then watch the show, baby, gonna make that perfect pussy of yours gape and swallow every bit of me. You'll do that, won't you? Be good for me and keep it all warm and plugged up? Just for me," his thrusts turned sharp and erratic, bouncing your body along the mattress. You nodded, still feeling his palm gripping your jaw. The wet sounds were so loud in the otherwise silent room.

"Fuck, Yunho," your hands gripped onto his wrists, the muscles tensing and straining, working your core with everything he had. "Yes, keep going. Don't you fucking stop. I need it. Oh God, please don't stop."

"I'm right here, little one," Yunho groaned, voice tight and gravelly, his pelvis rocking and bucking, his breath shaking as he pressed closer. His face burrowed between the nape of your neck, his voice low and thick. "Gonna cum now, gonna fucking cum, gonna make a mess in that pretty little cunt. Going to paint you white, my pretty girl."

"Do it," the words came out as a whimper, "Wanna feel you."

Yunho let out a rough and broken growl.

His cum shot out in heavy ropes that coated your insides and slid past your opening, coating you both with an extra slickness. His hand lands over your mound, massaging and keeping a steady flow of pressure until finally, when his last release hit the deepest spot inside you, you saw that white-hot glow in the back of your eyes.

You broke. His name came out on the edge of a sob.

The world turned and spun. He lifted and cradled you against his chest. Pressing warm lips over your pulse and humming when you tucked your face into the hollow of his neck, spent, exhausted, and drifting into the fuzzy nothingness, he whispered tender words in your ear.

"It's okay," he shushed, a warm palm rubbing circles in the middle of your back, "Don't fall asleep on me yet, let's get you clean." He helped you rise and then ushered you to the bathroom. Once inside, he wrapped those massive arms around you again, pulling you back against his chest. "Doing alright, beautiful?"

"Perfect," you whispered.

His grip loosened a bit and his lips grazed against the back of your shoulder and a quiet huff followed. "You did wonderfully, little one." A hum was all that followed his praise. You were far too tired for anything else.

You barely remembered washing up and drying off. You had no clue how the two of you ended up snuggled, legs tangled up. Your head laid on his chest, while his large hand laid on your cheek, rubbing light circles and playing with your hair.

"Yunho," you whispered.

"Hm?"

"Kiss me again," and he did, bringing those soft, puffy lips to yours in a kiss that is no different, gentle, tender, slow, sweet, and exploratory, despite being together intimately already, you both craved that innocent sweetness and the reassurance it would bring.

"How are you doing? Was I too much, too soon?" Yunho asked quietly.

"Never," you scoffed, smacking his chest, "that was fan-fucking-tastic."

"Well, I aim to please," the grin in his tone was evident and infectious.

Snuggled in his arms, warm and protected, it didn't take long before the both of you were softly snoring away, peaceful and perfectly content. You didn't even see the notification on your phone as the little bubbles popped onto the screen.

Unknown: I bet his cock felt good buried inside that sweet, tight, little cunt. It looks lovely, all stretched and leaking.

Unknown: Sleep tight.

You drifted, blissfully unaware.

"A camping trip?" Your eyebrows creased, and your cheeks felt as though a blush rose at the thought.

"Hongjoong thinks it's a great opportunity for some relaxation and bonding after everything, what do you think?" Seonghwa sipped at his coffee as Yunho circled his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. "You guys can share a tent and put it far away from us."

"Like far away from us, far away. I mean it," Hongjoong motioned across the span of the field with wild and sweeping hand movements. "I don't need to hear shit, and especially don't need Wooyoung running his motor mouth."

"Bite me," the loud-mouth in question screamed, waving an arm into the air in retaliation.

"And, there's no pressure. If you don't want to, that's perfectly alright," Seonghwa shrugged, but his words weren't nearly convincing.

Yunho smiled. "No, we're totally in. As long as everyone promises not to come within like five miles of our tent in the middle of the night."

"Done deal," Hongjoong immediately stated.

Wooyoung snickered. "Maybe Y/N's loud moans would scare away the bears."

You scowled. "Would they scare the tiny gremlin boy, because, in that case, I'll happily be very loud."

The young male stood up, moving a finger back and forth between the two of you. "Watch your back, Y/N. I might just throw you in the lake while you're sleeping and make it look like an accident. This is war!" He stomped off dramatically towards his desk, pretending to throw a fit.

"Why is he so dramatic? Can we leave him at the camping grounds and pretend to forget him?" Jongho quipped dryly.

The camping trip did sound like fun, especially being able to enjoy it in a small group setting, and without worrying about running into unfamiliar faces, that dark presence that seemed to follow you, stalking and haunting, might stay away. A perfect solution.

The rest of the workday passed in relative normalcy, and before the hour struck five, you had left with Yunho by your side and plans of going shopping were set in motion.

"It's been such a long time since I last went camping," Yunho chattered, skipping around in front of you and leading the way into the sporting goods section, "think they have soundproof tents? Just in case? For when I get super frisky and fuck the breath out of my sexy girlfriend?"

"Jesus christ, Yunho, calm your jets," you laughed, patting his cheeks, "I doubt there's such a thing but maybe we can get lots of pillows to stuff in the corners and walls."

"Perfect," Yunho grins and kisses your palm.

The next two hours flew by, filled with tossing things in the shopping cart, giggles, and teasing. After you managed to find an assortment of things you might need and settled on what looked to be a sturdy tent, Yunho paid. Before heading home to drop off everything, the pair of you went clothes shopping, after deciding that the proper attire included comfortable pajamas, enough clothing to last, and in your case a nice bathing suit to lounge in the lake.

And when Yunho wasn't looking, you grabbed something that was a little... naughty for your favorite kinky giant.

After loading the car with camping and fishing equipment, gear, supplies, a few tents, and a cooler loaded with drinks and snacks, a text came in from the groupchat.

Seonghwa: Load everything into your trucks, we leave tomorrow at 8 am.

Wooyoung: My Jeep will go fast, Jongho doesn't hold back on the gas pedal!

Jongho: You don't drive me. Ever.

Hongjoong: WEAR SEATBELTS!

You: Yes, Joong dad.

Yunho: LOL

Mingi: Dad. Priceless.

Yeosang: He does remind me of an anxious dad.

San: Cannot agree more.

Hongjoong: ....

Yunho: She called him "Joong Dad," isn't that just perfect, Hwa?

Seonghwa: I'm gonna start a drinking game. Take a shot every time you call Joong, "Joong Dad."

Jongho: Count me the fuck in.

"Hmph," you huffed, scrolling through your notifications and catching another. Same number, unknown again. You blinked twice, then opened the message.

Unknown: So sweet, picking up supplies for your boyfriend. And did you have some naughty plans too? Good, so did I.

"Baby, ready to go home and have dinner?" Yunho pressed a soft kiss on the crown of your forehead.

Your head snapped up and your gaze met his, blinking at him. His wide smile met you and your own slowly stretched to match it.

"Ready," you said, feeling sick at the new unknown message.

He watched as you slid your clothes off after a long day and tossed them aside. His hungry eyes trailing over the curve of your soft belly, then your wide hips, then down the round curve of your ass. His gaze lingered on the lacy set of panties you'd picked up the night prior.

So tiny. They don't cover nearly enough of that amazing ass.

His dick twitched in his pants as his tongue darted out and swiped across his plump lips. Laying there, on your belly, not aware of the dark shadow lingering right outside your window, looking on as your soft cheeks and round globes jiggled at every movement, the arousal tinted his stare. His heartbeat sounded rapidly and the blood began flowing directly towards the aching part between his legs.

Slowly, carefully, silently, he tugged the zipper down and pushed the fly of his jeans to the side to wrap his fingers around his swollen cock. A soft groan caught in the back of his throat when he tightened his grip and pumped his length along the underside. Watching as you pulled out that favorite toy of yours since your boyfriend wasn't there.

Oh, was he so jealous right then of that lifeless toy, the silicone dick that slid in and out of your pussy, soaking in the wetness and preparing that greedy pussy for a cock of actual flesh and blood. His mouth watered as the silicone phallus sunk deeper into you. His fingers continued to run along his thick girth and grip the sensitive tip, slicked up with precum, spreading it down and adding friction to his movements. His gaze fixated on that damn vibrator. The thought of bending you over crossed his mind, but then decided that he wanted the pleasure of making you cum on his cock. Wanted the sounds of your cries muffled, wanted you to break into pieces at his hand and only his cock, his cock and nobody else's.

"Fuck yeah, just like that. Grab your tit and play with it like a good, little slut. Such a pretty pussy and ass. Bet my cock would slide in and out real fucking nicely if I bend you over the bed and slam in that wet hole until I fucking paint your insides and mark that tight, hot, soaked cunt." Pumping his length and gripping the swollen tip, he bit back the whimpers and the grunts, so desperately wanting to call out.

"Just a little longer," he groaned, his head tipped back, fighting to keep the volume low, "Gonna make you feel me and make you mine. Soon, baby, I'll make that cunt remember the shape of my dick, stretch you and split you open with my fat cock, make you suckle and worship my cock every chance I get, make you full with me."

"Yeah, babygirl. Gonna stuff your pussy and then plug the cum inside. Fuck. Cum all over that face, that pretty ass and tits." He groaned out.

"Shit," his cock pulsated and throbbed, aching and about to release, "nah, gotta wait."

Stopping his self-love session, he focused his attention back to the show, knowing that with this intensity, with every passing second he got closer and closer to the moment when he'll get the chance to bury himself inside your wet warmth and the deepest, darkest spots. You were always meant to be his, always belonged to him.

Because if he can't have you, no else ever will.

Pulling into the camping lot, the first sight of the trees had Yunho's face lighting up, and you swore that when he looked like that, his cheeks scrunched adorably and his smile a million watts, you had no control over yourself. Every part of him was absolutely precious. Your stomach flipped, and those pesky little butterflies fluttered around and around inside.

Parking alongside the line of trucks and smaller SUV's, everyone scrambled out. A collective yawning, stretching, and murmurs of agreement came in the form of mumbles.

"Gorgeous place, huh?" Jongho raised his hands up above his head, pointing towards the distant view, "Good day for hiking."

"Let's get some tents set up and then explore," Hongjoong murmured.

They set up the tents, arranging supplies and cots. They were in a rush to explore, not that you could blame them. You slipped on shorts and a t-shirt, running up after them, tugging Yunho to come with.

But with him in his element and nature all around, there were things that caught his interest, things that the group explored as they walked through the camping grounds.

"We should try to find a spot not so far into the woods," Yunho's voice pulled your focus and you turned around, meeting the warmth in his eyes. He stepped closer, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. "Sounds good, babe?"

Your eyebrow rose and an inquisitive hum echoed. "Whatever do you mean, honeybun?"

"Welllll," he leaned over, pecking a soft, fleeting kiss on your nose, "we can sit out by the trees, by the lake, watch the sunset..."

You blushed, suddenly knowing exactly where his words were headed. "I think I understand," you grinned. "We packed the earplugs for everyone, right?"

He smirked, cockily, pulling your face closer until his warm breath caressed your lips and teased a response from them, "Sounds like someone is thinking of getting busy?"

"Always," you answered, letting him press his lips to yours.

"Don't worry," his chest shook and his smile lit up the sky, "we have extra earplugs."

"Hurry up, lovebirds!" Seonghwa's shrill screech called.

A light giggle burst forth. "Ready to see the beautiful spot and pick out the perfect tree for our sinful deeds?"

"Too much!" You heard Hongjoong grumbling.

Yunho laughed, breaking free and sprinting, arms lifted in the air, towards Seonghwa, all smiles and eyes closed and sparkling, a few stray wisps of hair falling out and flying through the wind. He turned around, a hand held out to you. "You coming?"

And you ran, meeting his extended palm, lacing your fingers through his, and feeling warmth radiating from him, the bright shine and joy radiating from the man in front of you, loving him all the more, feeling happiness wash over you, too. He brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed you, a small gesture, but a tender one.

"Hey, now," Hongjoong snorted, walking back over towards you, "keep it PG."

The glare the younger man gave off only caused him to chuckle harder, doubling over in mirth, loud and boisterous, bouncing back from tree to tree.

"Okay," Yunho huffed, arms circling around your back and ushering you forward, "back to the serious business of finding a spot for this lecherous act that Hongjoong believes we have planned."

The snickers from your party began in waves and soon, you were swept up in the infectious fun, laughter surrounding and spilling out and echoing. Yunho pulled you further along, playfully, all lighthearted jests.

Hours later, sitting around the campfire and listening to a guitar, the melancholy strums filled the evening, and the stars sparkled overhead. Snuggled next to Yunho and singing along, you watched the fire flickering.

"What if," San suddenly jumped in and tapped a finger against Mingi's shoulder, "what if we played a game of truth or dare, like we did in high school?"

"No," Hongjoong was quick to shoot down the idea.

"Pleaseeeeeee," Wooyoung's puppy-eyes begged.

Yeosang sighed. "Oh, come on hyung, give in."

"And if they get truth or dare?" Hongjoong points at you and Yunho, "who knows what we'll get subjected to!"

Seonghwa grimaced. "True."

"Pleaseeeee?" Wooyoung cried. "Pretty, pretty pleaseeee?"

"Alright," Hongjoong gave in, a sign of Seonghwa and Hongjoong's long, suffering, and excruciating tale of their school experience. It had to do with those same puppy eyes, specifically, Wooyoung. "But the moment the lovebirds get frisky, I'm shutting it down."

You gave him the most angelic smile. "Roger that, Joong Dad!"

"And so the night continues..." Hongjoong groaned into his hands, elbows propped against his thighs and head tipping into his palms, "why do I enable this nonsense?"

And so the night progressed. Dares were made. Wooyoung sent San to a dark scary area, where the sounds of something like footsteps could be heard. The culprit? Jongho, shuffling his shoes quietly back and forth in the grass. Yeosang ran out to the water and ran around screaming, waving his arms like a mad man, only to do it again - per request from Mingi. Truths were told about silly childhood memories, the most embarrassing moments, the greatest fears, and a few love stories and regrets were spilled, as well.

Sleep eventually took hold of everyone, exhausted from the trip, the music, the singing, and the laughter. Slowly, one by one, each member retreated into their tents. You and Yunho followed, going hand and hand, holding hands. The night seemed to last forever with so much time, a perfect ending to a perfect day.

As soon as you had crawled under the thin sheet and blankets, Yunho pulled you close. He curled a palm around your hip and used the other to lay the crook of your neck onto his chest. You glanced up, pressing a tender kiss to his jaw and looking at the soft expression across his features, so beautiful, so gorgeous, like a dream that never faded.

And then you drifted off.

He watched you slept through the night, unable to take his gaze away. You didn't zip the tent all the way, it hung just loosely enough to where he could easily spy inside, a mistake on your part and he was completely taking advantage of it. The slow steady rise and fall of your chest as your breaths moved through you, a quiet exhale, your plump, perfect lips curling softly, he couldn't look away, couldn't stop staring at you. His fingers dug into his palm, leaving nail indents into the soft flesh.

How he wanted to caress and trail a gentle touch, feather soft, over that delicate skin, to have your heat spread and pulse beneath his palm. It's an agony he wanted to bury himself in, this perfect image of you asleep, so very delicate and tender.

And when his gaze followed the soft curves of your face, his cock is swelling and throbbing. He swallowed hard, imagining those pouty lips wrapped around the girthy, sensitive cock as his fingers wrapped in your hair and he fucked your face and mouth roughly, spilling himself over and over again until you were gagging and struggling for breath.

His tongue glided between his lips, his dick hardening even more from the lewd thoughts of what he could do to you. All the ways, places, angles, things. So, many things he would be doing. And by the end, you'll be addicted to the feeling of him.

Soft snores sounded through the clearing. Then a snort. And a muffled curse. A bark of laughter.

"Jongho! Keep it down." One of the men snarled from his tent. "Fuckin' christ."

And another zipped open and Mingi and Seonghwa stepped out.

"Let's walk around, get some fresh air," Seonghwa whispers as Mingi nods.

His head whipped around the area, knowing the area's layout, having the chance to scope out the place just recently. So, with the dark cover of night and the absence of those who were awake, he stepped back. It was time for him to disappear back to where he was hiding in wait. For as long as he needed to, he would remain waiting, still.

Stalking quietly, his large feet tiptoed out through the darkness and back into the shadows, as he'd always done.

Biding his time until the perfect opportunity presents itself.

Patience.

Days after the camping trip, you were at Yunho's place, waiting for him to get home and you sat on his couch, phone clutched in hand, your attention on the string of texts that appeared earlier. Your jaw clenched, eyeing the words, that unsettling feeling returning.

Unknown: Fun camping trip. Tell me, Y/N, which were your favorite moments? I especially loved when you and your boyfriend fucked each other with the tent flap open while the others were sleeping.

You blinked, suddenly a stone lodged in your throat. You could almost taste the sourness seeping through the text message. The fact that the stranger was lurking, following the group's movement and possibly tailing, was not lost to you.

Unknown: Would you have loved it just a little more if I were the one fucking your tight little cunt and you moaning my name, my big cock sinking into those silky wet walls, my hot cum filling you?

There wasn't a text for a couple of minutes, and then more came.

Unknown: Just let me try and guess, baby. How your soft, tight walls would constrict me, would massage and caress my throbbing cock. How my big dick would feel deep inside, opening you up, stretching that greedy hole, making a mess. I know you like a messy pussy. Would you beg me to cum inside you, fuck that juicy pussy hard and fast, mark your insides with my cum and fill your womb until you were full of me?

Unknown: Your mouth is even better. Can just imagine wrapping my fingers into your hair, that gorgeous face pressed against my balls. Sliding the fat tip between those pouty lips while you lick up the length, suckling on the underside of the thick, veiny shaft. I would make sure that you had trouble speaking the next day, sweetheart, from how hard I would be pounding and slamming the back of your throat, having my cock stuffed down your throat until you can only choke. Fuck, baby, gonna breed your holes until you cant ever take anyone else.

Unknown: What can I do to make you mine, babygirl?

You nearly vomited at those last words, crinkling your nose and screwing your eyelids shut to stop reading them.

But then another came.

Unknown: Be ready soon for my cock and cum, darling. It's going to feel so fucking good.

When the key in the door alerted you, your attention shot upwards and you shoved the phone in the side pocket of your bag and met Yunho's dazzling, gleaming smile and gentle gaze. It seemed like your troubles melted, worries forgotten.

"Did you wait long? Sorry I'm late." His wide, bright smile crinkled his eyes in the most precious way as he spoke, tossing the keys aside and toeing the shoes off and kicking them to the side.

Before you could get up, Yunho had plopped himself next to you, kissing you deeply, softly. His long arm curled around your shoulder, pulling you into his broad chest and nuzzling your cheek, and you grinned uncontrollably.

You pressed the palms of your hand flat to his chest, peeling off and leaning back, giving him a sweet smile, then curled both arms around him and laid the top half of your torso against the side of his arm and placed your cheek on the bone. "Did you have dinner already, baby?"

You shook your head. "Nope. Wanted to wait."

He laughed softly. "For me to come back?"

"Uhuh," you nodded.

"Then," his chest vibrated, and a soft purr thrummed. The rumbling, content and happy and low, is warm. "Let's get up, baby, and head to the kitchen. We'll cook together. Then watch a movie in bed. How does that sound?"

"Do I get dessert later?" You nibbled on his arm.

His deep chuckle responded. "I think a lot can be arranged. C'mon," and he stood, hands at your waist and pulling you up with him. "Let's get cooking and eating, and I'll save that for after."

Your heartbeat and stomach were swarming with the familiar butterflies. Even now, being around Yunho was a sensation. And not even that, not only that, but with those new, strange threatening and ominous text messages that crept up. For a moment, you pushed it aside. Allowed yourself to drift into the moment, wanting so badly to spend more time with Yunho.

After dinner, he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed lightly before leading you to bed. You buried your face into his shoulder, mumbling a faint sleepy sentence or two, not quite making out the exact words.

"And, dessert?" You raised an eyebrow, puckering your lips slightly and gesturing towards him.

He smirked, lifting you and throwing your legs around his waist, strong hands firmly holding your plump ass. Then the familiar sensation of being placed, ever so gently and delicately on the bed. With soft touches, hands roaming and sliding under the fabric, clothes were quickly stripped off.

"Can I have my dessert now? Pleaseeeeeee?" you asked, batting your long lashes and feigning a childish expression.

"Go ahead," he laughed as he leaned against the headboard and patted his lap, spreading his powerful legs wider to show his straining erection. "You were talking about this kind of dessert, right?"

"You read my mind, babe," you said, a teasing wink as you slid towards the middle of the bed and between his thighs.

A low grunt passed his parted lips and a heated stare was sent in your direction. You reached out, wrapping the palm and fingers around his thick cock, the veins pulsating against your skin, throbbing and eager. Leaning forward and licking the swollen head, the little bead of precum leaked out of the tip. Sliding the flattened tongue over the slit, your fingers working up and down and around the width, circling up to the sensitive head, feeling the heat and his eager pulse thrumming as it got harder.

"Shit," a sharp intake of breath. His head tipped to the back, and his teeth sunk into the lower lip, biting back the needy whimper.

Taking the fat tip in and hollowing your cheeks, sliding deeper, letting it hit the back of your throat, feeling it sink further and further in as his fingers cradled the nape of your neck. Your nails skimmed his thigh, catching onto the coarse hair before teasing the hot and velvety hardness, causing the flesh to throb between your lips and around his member, moaning from the taste and scent of the cock, swallowing around the heavy weight, causing the vibrations to send a shot of electricity.

His head thrown back, breathless gasps filled the silence of the room and hands caressed your hair. His hips bucked, slowly and carefully, as though afraid of pushing your limits too far. Your throat tightened around the swollen shaft, drool leaking out the corner of your mouth. Eyes wide, half-lidded and gazing up at him. His cock twitched in your mouth and he made the most sinful sound.

"I'm going to fill your mouth, darling. I want you to swallow it and everything that spills out, make sure to drink every last drop. It's your dessert, after all, right?"

Humming lowly, mouth still full, nodding faintly, a confirmation.

A hand lifted to the back of your head. Slowly, he caressed the soft strands, running his fingers through the locks, caressing the strands. Light scratches, soft and loving against your scalp.

And his body shook hips rocking up, in and out of your mouth, picking up a rhythm. "Swallow it, sweetheart. Drink up."

The warm cum spurted into your mouth as a throaty groan fell, a lustful gaze locked to yours, staring. Those warm, gorgeous, honey brown eyes were full of awe and love as you swallowed and licked every single drop that spilled. You squeezed and swallowed, tightly sucking, eager and willing and sucking him off, desperate and eager and swallowing again.

His thumb grazed your skin, tipping his thumb against the corner of your lips to brush away any semen leftover.

You sucked up every bit, licking the warm and soft tip, letting the fat head roll around on your tongue and using the tip to sweep away the last traces of salty seed. Sucking on the cock until nothing remained.

Leaning back, you watched the reaction, waiting to hear the praise, your boyfriend's blissed out expression. A smile bloomed, a pleased hum passed your lips as he reached out, grasping at your shoulders and tugging you to meet his gaze. "Did you enjoy your dessert? Did you have enough?" He laughed. "No? Guess I have to feed you more."

With ease, he flipped your pliant and small body, your back on the mattress. Pressing his cock along your entrance. Sinking the fat cock into you, taking his time, the wet sounds and hot walls clenching his dick. "My baby needs to be full and satisfied, right?" A breathless moan. The pure, lecherous tone of his voice sent heat into your cunt, pussy throbbing, the slick building up. He pushed the length slowly in, relishing the stretch as your walls hugged and swallowed him. He throbbed against you and pressed forward, cock reaching and sending sparks up and through, tearing apart all inhibition and breaking down that delicate restraint.

He fucked and rutted, thrusting, bucking, and moaning into your quivering, hot cunt.

You were already melting, and the lust only grew more intense, like a burning flame, as the sloppy and wet noises echoed around in the room, loud smacks filling the empty space.

The way his large, strong hands moved to your thighs, urging them to wrap around your waist. Using that to angle deeper, driving himself harder. Until his big cock is sinking into you. Overwhelming you completely as he fucked into your warm, welcoming cunt. He moved his hips faster and rougher, panting and desperately trying to catch his breath. His nails raked into your hips and dragged across your skin, leaving his claim. The noises and smells were all consuming, skin flushed and bruised, red splotchy marks coating your hips.

He felt so fucking good, slamming that girth deep inside you, hitting your spot and pounding it until you were trembling and moaning, almosting screaming, his name. Your body collapsed, turning and face-planting into the sheets as Yunho’s fingers kneaded and spread your cheeks wider. He grunted, eyes blown wide.

And he fucked you more.

"More?" You breathed heavily as his dick, grinding, the bulge filling and pressing along, pressing and touching your spot, teasing it. So big. He was too much, and it felt so incredible. His tip and heavy cock and balls and long shaft were brushing and smothering and his hands were everywhere. In your hair, on your body, everywhere.

"Take it, darling. You feel so good. So soft and good. Fucking amazing." The strain in his voice could be heard. But, god, it wasn’t just how incredible he felt, but his low, husky groans and gasps were taking over your ears. "You love this, baby, don't you? My huge cock fucking and thrusting and feeling good inside you, isn't that right? Can't you feel it?"

The air was suddenly hot, sticky and heavy. Everything felt heightened. He moaned as he kept fucking you, murmurs falling from his lips, his breathing rough as he stared down.

"Yunho, please. Cum in me. Cum, please. Feels so fucking good. Baby," you could barely breathe as his thick shaft shoved, harsh, hitting so deep. Your fingers were clutching and grasping at his back/ Yunho’s head dropped, pressing his forehead along your temple. "Gonna cum, shit, Yunho-"

"Do it," he commanded.

Throwing your head back, eyes clenched shut, shuddering and panting, his warm lips suckled and nibbled the skin along the nape of your neck. "Look at me." His husky, gravelly command was clear, your eyelids snapping open and vision settling on his molten chocolate gaze. "You're mine, okay? Say you understand. Tell me."

You nodded feverishly. "Yes. Only yours."

"Louder."

"Yes!"

"Good. You're mine. I love you, darling. You're everything to me," and then he kissed the side of your cheek, running his palms down along your sides, slowing down to tenderly brush his hand on your sweaty face, wiping the strand of dampened hair that clung. "Do you love me, darling?"

Your heart melted. His passion and fiery intensity is gone, replaced by this warmth that surrounded the space in between and spread. There was that soft, tender voice that had a hint of yearning and hopefulness. You smiled brightly at him. "Of course," you nodded softly. "I love you. I love you. I love you. So much, so, so, so, so much. Never want anyone else. Just you."

His bright, blinding smile and glowing happiness was what had you beaming and grinning back as his eyes turned into those beautiful slits, like a cat. Then, he laughed. It was you favorite sound. Laughter that bubbled, like music. Music, just for you.

You lost yourself in his touch and love.

And the strange text messages were forgotten, vanishing completely out of your mind.

Yunho looked at you, sprawled out, peacefully sleeping after a night of intense fucking and blissfully being knocked out by pure exhaustion. With careful ease, he slid himself to sit at the edge of the bed and picked up your cell phone discarded earlier on the ground. Scrolling through the messages.

What kind of face were you making when you read these messages? Were you disgusted by them? Discomforted? Out of place? Annoyed? Perhaps a bit unsettled? Maybe even just the slightest bit scared? He looked over his shoulder and glanced at your slumbering form.

Yunho was surprised to see that not once had it even crossed your mind that he may be the culprit, the one who would stalk, obsess and prey on his innocent little prey.

But you weren't innocent, were you? You were so damn filthy and lewd, fucking and sucking with abandonment, swallowing the cum and slurping it, begging for more and more and more, not caring who else is watching, just as long as his thick cock filled your greedy cunt. And look at you, lying there, as if you were his property. All his to use and abuse however he saw fit, and you loved it, begging him and moaning and crying for him.

Not once did the idea occur to you, to him, your loving boyfriend, would be the cause behind those messages.

But maybe one day that would happen.

Perhaps you would find out, find out in time, but he had plans for you.

"Yunho?" you murmured, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, blinking the sleep and tiredness away, unaware of the expression plastered on his face. You rolled over to stare, rubbing the edges and corners. "Where did you go?"

"I'm grabbing something to drink, baby. Go back to sleep. I'll be back soon," he responded, voice like the smoothest silk.

Without questioning it, you nodded, mumbled, rolling back over to return to dozing and he quietly walked over to the kitchen. Pulling open the cabinet and fishing a burner phone out of its hiding space, underneath the containers and hidden away, behind the rows. He powered it on and shot a short message.

Unknown: Darling, looks like you enjoyed your meal very much. I'll see you soon. I hope you didn't eat all that dessert. Because there will be a lot more for me to feed and give and for you to swallow.

When it sent, and he received a brief acknowledgement from your phone, he quickly turned the burner phone back off and put it back in its hiding space. Shutting the cabinet, he returned to you, placing your phone on the end table and plugged in to charge overnight, before settling in next to you.

Lifting his arm, he let you slip into his embrace, pulling your face towards his chest, hearing that adorable happy sigh slip through your mouth. When Yunho leaned in, he pressed his lips to your temple. "You're mine, right, baby?"

"Mhmm," you agreed, sleepy.

"Forever?" He stroked your hair. "Not just tonight or tomorrow. But you'll stay with me forever?"

You didn’t answer back immediately, but he felt your nod. It was slight, yet he felt the assurance. The trust you held. And for the time being, it was enough. He decided to hold you a bit tighter, feeling your warm presence at the very center of his heart, where no other could touch. This, to him, was an oasis in the desert of his life. And he felt warm.

Warmth that he vowed never to lose.

He let the wicked thoughts take him. What he had to do, and planned to do. What he could get away with. How he was going to slowly strip apart that innocence of yours, leaving behind a sobbing mess and destroying those bonds of reality.

He wasn’t doing it because he wanted to.

He was doing it because he must.

Because you were meant for him and him alone. You were his from the beginning and no one was going to get in the way.

He buried the darkness away and wrapped his arms more tightly and lovingly around you, letting himself feel the happiness and peace a little while longer before the shadows could reach again.

One thing was clear.

One fact remained.

You belonged to Yunho and Yunho belonged to you.

Even if he had to lock you up and throw away the key. 

[alexsnerdycorner]

Animalistic (Logan X Reader smut)

Title: Animalistic

Word Count: 2079

Warning: Smut, slight exhibitionism (if you squint), kitchen sex, oral (f and m receiving), PIV sex, multiple orgasm (f)

Fandom: X-Men/X-Men Movies

Pairing: Logan X Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature, Explicit

Request: I need someone to write a Logan Howlett x reader where reader can communicate with animals and she finds out she can also hear logan’s thoughts (bc that man IS an animal lets be real) at first she doesn’t realize who’s /what’s thoughts she is hearing but gets closer with logan and realizes it’s him when he starts thinking about her

Tags: @grapejollyrancher @pinkiemme

Summary: You’re a mutant who can communicate with animals. Lately you thought you’ve been going crazy, getting images and feelings when there were no animals around. One night you wake from a weird nightmare and find Logan in the kitchen. You soon discover that the nightmare was Logan’s and that you’re not going crazy, but that you can communicate telepathically with him. Smut ensues.   

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get up. I’ve had lots to do with work and personal life. I also got sick five times since September. I also made it so the reader can see his thoughts more than hear them – you’ll see how it works out.

Work:

From a young age you could communicate with animals. You got feelings and flashes of images from them. You discovered it first with your friend’s dog. Whenever you were over there you felt happiness radiating off of him and glimpses into his mind. When the dog was hungry you would get images of kibble and feelings of hunger. You would always be the first to know when the dog needed to go outside and use the bathroom.

When you were a young adult your parents discovered your abilities and sent you to live at the Xavier institute. You loved it there. Mostly because it was quiet and there was very little animal activity. You studied there for a little while and then became an animal sciences teacher.

When a man named Logan and a girl named Rogue came to the institute things began to get more complicated. You would feel angry, agitated, or afraid for no apparent reason. You would get images – no memories that weren’t your own. You thought you were going crazy. You were too scared to even tell the Professor.

One night you woke after a terrible nightmare. Too afraid to go back to sleep, you trudged down to the kitchen and found Logan there.

“Hey, Y/N” He said, “What are you doing up? It’s almost midnight.”

“I could ask you the same thing, Logan” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You suddenly felt parched as if you hadn’t drunk anything all day.

“Touche” Logan opened the fridge. He grabbed a soda out, opened it and chugged the contents. Your feelings of thirst were suddenly gone. Weird.

“I had a nightmare and I’m afraid to go back to sleep,” You finally admit to your friend.

Logan let out a mirthless laugh, “You and me both, bub. Wanna talk about it?”

“I…I don’t want to sound crazy,” you said. Pulling at the hem of your nightgown. Logan looked over at you with an unreadable expression. Flashes of male hands sensually roaming a female body went through your mind.

“You could never sound crazy,” Logan said.

“I don’t know about that,” you let go of your nightgown’s hem and crossed your arms across your chest. You looked away from Logan and felt a heat wash over you as you got glimpses of a man kissing a woman’s breasts.

“Try me,” he responded drawing you out of your visions.

“Okay, well, I was in this lab of sorts and my body was hooked up to these wires and tubes and stuff. And I was submerged in water or something and I was in pain. Lots and lots of pain. I looked over to a man, Stryder, I think, and get so angry at him I want to kill him, but I don’t. I don’t know why I don’t. But I pull all the tubes and wires and stuff off my body and start to run but then feel a sharp stinging pain and then I woke up,” You looked back up at Logan whose eyes were wide.

“Stryker. His name was Stryker,” Logan said quietly.

“Yes, how did you…” You trailed off.

“Because that’s my nightmare. My past,” he threw the bottle of soda away.

“What? How… Why?” You stuttered.

“I don’t know, Y/N.” Logan said, “Let’s go to the professor in the morning and see if he knows what is going on.”

“No! I’m not crazy. It was just a coincidence. Must be,” You shrugged.

“I never said you were,” Logan held out a hand to calm you. He licked his lips and you received flashes of a man undressing a woman with a similar nightgown to yours. You felt wetness pool in your panties.

Could it be? No, you thought. It can’t be him.

“Quick, logan, what are you thinking right now,” You spoke up.

“What? I don’t see – ” He began.

“Just tell me.” You interrupted.

“I…Y/N, I don’t see how this is relevant.” His face turned bright red.

“You’re thinking about me, aren’t you.”

“Well, I am talking to you.”

“But you’re thinking of me in a different way than just talking to me, aren’t you Logan? You’re thinking about fucking me, aren’t you.”

“What are you on about, Y/N?” Logan cleared his throat.

“I think I know why I had your nightmare. I can communicate with you like I can with animals, can’t I?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Logan denied it but you knew deep down that it was true.

“Stop lying, please. Ever since you and Rogue arrived several months ago, things have been different for me. I thought I was going crazy and just seeing and feeling things without an explanation.  But it’s been you this whole time, hasn’t it.” You said without taking a breath.

“I suspected a little after we first met. I could feel you in my mind.” Logan sighed, “But it was all just suspicions. I didn’t know for sure, not until just now when you told me about the nightmare.”

“So, what were you just thinking about, Logan?” You stepped towards him while maintaining eye contact.

“Princess, I think you know.” He cleared his throat.

“I do. But I want to hear you say it,” you closed the remaining gap so that he was inches away from you.

“I was thinking how damn fine you look in that fucking nightgown.” He purred, “And I was wondering how you would look without it.”

“Well, there is only one way to find out, isn’t there” you smirked and looked up at him through your heavy eyelids.

In a flash Logan’s mouth was on top of yours, kissing you hungrily.

“My room.” You said between kisses.

“No. Here.” Logan growled while his fingers grazed the hem of your nightgown and his mouth moved to your neck. You let out a moan and your hands roamed his chest over his white t-shirt.

“We’ll get caught, Logan,” you whined.

“If anyone is up past midnight, they deserve to catch a show.”

You would have cared more but the ache you felt for him was too strong. You nudged his lips up to yours and bit onto his bottom lip.

“Oh, look whose got the animalistic tendencies now.” Humor shone in his eyes.

You giggled and went back to kissing him. Logan ran his large hands up your thighs and hooked them onto your nightgown hem. He took the hem and lifted. You complied and he took the nightgown off your body and threw it to the floor. He then moved onto your soaked panties. WHen he saw the pool of wetness in them, he grinned. 

He took some time to look at your naked body. To soak your beauty in. When he had enough of the view he ran his rough hands over your soft breasts, toying with your nipples. He brought his lips down to your breasts and pressed a kiss between the two.

“Ya know, I’ve wanted to do this since I met ya, princess.”

You smirked at him and removed his shirt, “Really? Is there anything else you’ve been wanting to do?”

“Well, yeah, a couple of things, actually. Now that you ask.”

You put your hands on the buckle to his belt and pull it. It releases, “I see. Care to share with the class, Mr. Logan?”

He put his hands over yours and pulled his belt off, tossing it onto his shirt. He popped the button of his jeans and undid the zipper. Then the thought of you sucking a long thick cock came into your head. Logan smiled at you. You returned it and got on your knees. You pulled down his pants and boxers, allowed him to step out of them and then looked up at your daunting task. He was huge. While a little above average length, he was very girthy. Your hand couldn’t fit around him on its own if you tried. You lifted your lips to his cock and gently kissed the tip of it.

”Fuck,”  He let out a gruff moan, “y/n.”

The corners of your mouth turned upwards as you took him into your mouth. You moved your mouth forward and back while you found his eyes locked onto yours. His eyes worshiped you even from this position. Soon you felt his cock twitch in your mouth. Logan pulled back and he slipped out of your mouth. 

“Princess, if you keep it up, I won’t be able to fuck you the way I can smell you need it. Now get up here and kiss me.”

You obeyed. His cock was squished between the two of you. Logan pushed you back into the counter, lifted you up, and sat your bare ass on it. You yelped at the cold granite counter top. Logan stopped in his tracks and looked at you with concern. 

“I’m okay, just cold,” You reassured him.

“Well, let's fix that,” he smirked and knelt down on the floor in front of you. Logan steadied his rough calloused hands on your thighs and bent his head toward your core. You felt a warm wet tongue lick a strip up to your clit. You sighed in pleasure. He worked his tongue and lapped at your clit as he hummed against you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, Logan.”

You could feel the scruff of his trim beard tickle the insides of your thighs as he smiled. You ran your hands through his headband tugged gently. He inserted a finger into your pussy and you gasped, not ready for him to do that so quickly. He worked his mouth and his fingers in unison. You squirmed under his touch. Logan added a finger to your pussy and you swore, “fucking hell.”

“You good, princess?” he said into your pussy, making brief eye contact with you. 

“Yeah,” you said breathily, “keep going, Logan, please.”

You didn’t need to ask him twice. He dove back into your core and licked in circles at the bud of your clit. You moaned and tried to squeeze your legs together, but Logan’s head and other hand stopped you from getting too far. You could feel the knot in your core tightening and tightening, it was not that far off from bursting. 

“I’m close, Logan, Really close.”

“I want you to cum on my mouth, princess,” he said gruffly against your core before returning to his pleasurable assault on your clit. 

Your hips involuntarily bucked up and you cried out Logan’s name. Pure bliss radiated throughout your body. Logan returned to his standing position and brought his lips to yours. You could taste your sweet juices on his lips. 

“Are you ready to take my cock, y/n?” 

You nodded, unable to speak yet. That was all Logan needed for him to pull you to the edge of the counter, line himself up to your entrance, and push his way into your soaking core. He gave you a moment to adjust to his size before he started to buck his hips slowly. You wrapped your legs around his waist. He hit your g-spot once, twice, and three times. You moan his name loudly and scratch your nails down his back. In return he pulled your hair not too gently but not enough to really hurt you.

“y/n,” he growled, “do that again and I might just finish before we’re done” 

You drew him in deeper with your legs. He grunted. Your hands roamed his entire body. His one hand toyed with your boob while the other was a steady constant on your back. 

He shifted you to hit your g-spot again. And you shouted out in excitement. The knot in your sore was tangling again. 

“Logan, I’m close.” You whispered into his ear. 

“Me too, Princess.” He thrust into you to punctuate each word. 

He sped up slightly. The knot came undone and you came on his cock. His moves became erratic. And he was not too far after you to spill his seed inside of you. He stayed inside you for a moment as the two of you hung onto each other and panted. 

When you pulled apart he looked you in your eyes and spoke softly, “come to bed with me, maybe company will stave off the nightmares?”

You nodded, still unable to speak. Slowly, the two of you dressed and went up to his room.

You fell asleep in his arms and slept the night away without any more nightmares.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 8, A moment of bliss

Masterlist Word count: 3.5 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: Hi everyone. Enjoy Sylus being a switch/bottom for this one. He won't be for every chapter, but he's desperate and you've been waiting for this sooooo... I do want to remind everyone that this is my first time writing a smutty story. I hope it makes sense. <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'And then he slept over,' you tell Zayne over the phone and quickly add, 'we just cuddled. It was nice.' He doesn't need to say anything for you to know he disapproves. Just wait, he'll tell you that you shouldn't invite men you don't know over to your apartment. Especially not types like Sylus. 

'That's nice. He deserves something good in his life.' "What?!" 'Are you still there?' You probably stayed silent with your jaw on the floor a little too long. Maybe you shouldn't be too surprised. When you showed Zayne a picture of Sylus he looked physically pained, but not in a fearful way. It was empathetic. 

'Yes, yes, I'm still here, sorry. I expected you to lecture me on inviting strange men into my apartment,' you admit. 

'I would, but I know this man. I think he's a good one,' Zayne admits, 'I'm glad you ran into him. Seems the type for you.' Fair enough. Zayne has listened to you whine about men often enough to be glad you're finally actually like one. There's a knock at your door and a rush of nerves goes through your system. 

'Oh, that must be him,' you tell Zayne, 'I'll call you later, okay? We still need to set a date for our annual trip.' 

'Sure. I'll talk to you later.' His voice sounds amused, almost like he's smiling through the phone. You feel a little flustered. He probably picked up on your tone change when you heard the knocks on the door. 

'Bye.' You put your phone in your pocket and walk towards the door, stopping in front of the hallway mirror to check yourself one last time. Outfit, comfy but cute. Hair, eh, good enough. Makeup, minimal but nice. You pull the door open to reveal Sylus in a barely buttoned black blouse and slacks. Now you feel awfully underdressed in your jeans. Are you sure you agreed on dinner and a movie at his place? This looks like he's taking you to a 3-star dining and rented the whole cinema. 

But, you should have known he was going to be dressed like that. After all, it was the same outfit he wore in his newest video. The one he posted today, earlier than he usually does. In a way, you feel like he did it to tease you. Especially since it wasn't all that erotic. It was just him sitting back against the headboard of his bed with a book in his hand, reading the most utterly horny smutty chapter you've ever heard in your damn life. It nearly made you fall off your chair running to your room to masturbate, but you decided against it. The night's still young after all. 

The chapter stuck with you though. Because it wasn't all that horny because of the actual sex happening, but more because of the love between the characters. To be desired so carnally, to be loved so openly, is a fucking turn on. 

'You look beautiful,' he notes, taking all of your thoughts away with one look. The way his eyes rake over you, you feel like you're a marble statue in a museum. Loved, admired, valued, but most of all, beautiful. A blush spreads on your cheeks. 

'Thank you. You look nice too.' 

'Just nice?' 

'Stunning.' The nerves don't calm down and you're not sure why. You've already had him in your bed, you kissed him, cuddled him, let him... Why are you blushing at the thought of it now? Is it because this is a proper date? It's not even that serious. It's just dinner and a movie at his place. 

'Ready?' He offers you his arm. You nod and place your hand on his forearm. It's awfully proper, but it does feel very nice to be treated so respectfully. 

'I have to say, I was expecting a kiss,' you admit. He grins and leans down to press a soft kiss on your lips. Nothing special, just a gentle greeting from a lover. 

A lover? No, more than that. It feels like home. Like you've been kissing his lips for years, but the spark is still there. Like this is how it's meant to be. Like he is completely and utterly in love with you, and you feel the same. 

Shit, you're in love. 

Sylus leads you into his apartment. The one time you were in there, you didn't really take in his decor. It's very much him. The whole place is made up of black, white, some dark wood tones, yet it still feels warm. It might be because he has taken a page out of your book with all the candles he's lit around the apartment. The dining table is set beautifully. There's red wine on the table already, along with a beautiful bouquet of deep red roses that look almost velvety. There's some music playing that feels slightly suggestive but not enough to comment on. 

'Wow, you really went all you,' you note. You feel his arm slip from your grasp and around your waist to pull you closer against him. He looks down at you with the lightest flicker of a big smile. 

'For you, I'd rearrange the stars if you asked me to. Now go sit down. Food will be ready in a bit.' 

Sylus stands behind the stove while you take a seat at the table. Of course, you take the seat across from the kitchen so you can watch him work. The way he slightly is swaying and softly humming along with the music is truly a vision to behold. A domestic vision. A vision of a future you'd like to live. 

He looks over his shoulder, seeing you leaning on your palm, elbow on the table, staring at him. You feel your cheeks heat up again but no urge to look away. Instead, you smile at him and he smiles back. He picks up the pan and walks over to the table, setting it down in the middle between the two plates.  

'Pasta alla Norma. Say when,' he says as he starts dishing out the food on your plate. You nod your head to him after a bit, having a very generous portion of pasta on your plate. He does the same for himself and grabs the wine to uncork it. All of it goes so smooth, so fluent, like every motion of his is perfected. 

And so is the food. It's not that special of a pasta dish but it's made so damn well. 'Is there anything you can't do,' you joke, 'I might just have to marry you right here and now.' His lips quirk into a smile. 

'Are you sure, sweetie? We barely know each other,' he teases back, 'what if I turn out to be a serial killer?' 

'Then I'd die a happy death.' Even though you are joking, somewhere in the back of your mind you know that it's true. You've never had a connection to anyone before like you have with him. It's new and exciting, but most of all it feels right. 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

The dinner is mostly uneventful, except that Sylus got some sauce on his clothes. He claimed it was because he was admiring you, but you saw him struggle to get the bite on his fork properly. However, this one time you decided not to tease him because you do want to cuddle up to him during the movie. 

At least, that was the plan. Pure innocent cuddling.  

Seems Sylus has different plans. You're sitting leaned against him, knees pulled up onto his lap, his arm around you, but for about ten odd minutes now his free hand has been tracing figured on your thigh. Each passing moment he seems to get a little bit closer to your inner thigh. 

The teasing gets you hot and bothered, which only makes Sylus smirk. You don't have to look up at him to know. He moves his other hand from your shoulder to your waist, his thumb gently rubbing your skin so that your shirt starts riding up until you feel his touch on your skin. 

That's when he shoves his other hand between your thighs, so close to your core, pulling a gasp from your lips. As you smack your hand in front of your mouth and look up, you can already feel Sylus’ laugh rumbling through his chest. You won't stand for that shit. 

With one swift movement, you sit yourself on his lap. Hands gently draped over his shoulders; hips so close to his but not quite close enough. He hooks his hands under your thighs and pulls you right on top of his bulge. The friction makes you gasp, but you try to keep a straight face. 

'We're not watching the movie, are we,' he asks suggestively. You move your hands to the buttons of his shirt and start undoing them slowly, one by one. In response, his hands start roaming over your hips, your thighs, they grace your ass and lower back. You feel yourself start to grind against him ever so slightly. It's almost involuntarily and gets more intense when you see how much Sylus is blushing while trying to keep a straight face. 

'Don't know why you're asking me. You're the one who started it.' Your hands get to the bottom button that you can still see. Instead of undoing it, you splay your hands out over his stomach, exploring all the skin you've freed as you rake your nails over the lean muscles on his stomach. 

'Mmm, I know sweetie, but consent is sexy,' he groans, moving his head towards your shoulder, he presses a kiss under your ear, 'do I have your consent?' 

'You do,' you say breathlessly, moving your hands behind his neck, entangling your fingers in his hair as you grind on him a little harder. He gently bites the spot he just kissed as a reply and grips your hips roughly, guiding you over him while he bucks up at you. His breathing becomes labored as you two dry fuck like a bunch of horny teenagers. 

He moves his head to kiss your lips. It's all tongue and teeth, desperately chasing a high. Somewhere in your mind you had expected Sylus to be cool, calm, collected when it comes to sex, but seeing him this excited because of you gives you confidence the likes of which you have never experienced. 

Suddenly, he drops his head back to your shoulder and bites down as his movements become less rhythmic. He stops moving all together and looks up at you with big eyes, staring up at you like you're made of pure stardust. 

'Did you just-' 

'Yes.' 

'Because-' 

'Because an angel was riding me.' A grin spreads across your face. He came in his pants like a fucking teenager because of you. That's so fucking hot. If he starts praising you any more you might just become a nightmare to deal with. 

'Wanna do it again without clothes?' 

'More than you could ever imagine.' He grabs your ass and stands up with you in his arms. A yelp slips from your lips as you quickly grab his shoulders. There's that smirk again. Shit, this could be the switch Olympics at this point, that way that you keep flipping. 

Being in Sylus’ bedroom is slightly strange. You've seen it from all angels before, even though you've never been there before. He lays you down on his bed and you see yourself looking back on the ceiling. For a second, your mind is completely lost until you realize that there's mirrors on his ceiling. Strangely, that doesn't surprise you in the slightest. 

Then, you see Sylus taking off his shirt. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him as he undoes the button on his jeans. A devious idea pops into your head and you grab his hand to stop him.  

He watches you intensively as you switch places with him so he is seated at the edge of the bed. His eagerness to touch you has a hold on him but he's trying so hard to let you do whatever. You take his hands and guide them to the hem of your shirt. Then, you slide them up. He quickly catches on and helps you take your shirt off, revealing a beautiful black lace bra. 

'Shit,' he cusses under his breath, tossing your shirt somewhere in the corner. His hands move to your jeans and undo the button and zipper. One peek at your matching undies has him groaning. He helps you step out of your jeans and grabs your hips gently, pulling you towards him. You put your hands on either sides of his face. His eyes are on yours, but they keep flickering down to your lips while his thumbs gently rub your hips. 'All this for me?' 

'All for you.' Your voice comes out sultry, seductive. Nothing you've ever sounded like before. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him, and kisses you slowly. 

'You look beautiful,' he mumbles against your lips, drunk off your body and the lingering thought of being inside it. He finally peels himself off your body and switches sides with you again. 'Lay down. I'll be right back.' 

'Don't leave me,' you whine as you grab his hand. He stops for a second, physically restraining himself. 

'Condom,' he says and lets go of your hand, disappearing into the bathroom. You decide to sit on your knees in the middle of the bed, eagerly awaiting his return while you soak through your panties. It takes him less than a minute to come back, and when he does his jeans are already off. You eye his bulge with your mouth slightly agape. Sure, you had seen it before, but everything looks smaller on a phone screen. He catches the worry in your eyes as he puts one knee on the bed to be closer to you. 'We don't have to-' 

'Shut up,' you quip, 'I'll be fine. Just go slow.' There's that grin again. With one hand, he reaches behind you and unhooks your bra with ease, with the other he hands you the condom, then he guides you onto your back. You try to take off your bra as you lay, but he grabs your hand and guides it to his hair. For a second, you don't understand but then he dips his head down and starts kissing your chest, slowly making his way over your clothed nipple and kissing it, leaving a wet spot on the lace. With his other hand he pushes the straps off your shoulders.  

Within seconds you are reduces to a whimpering, moaning mess. Your legs spread to make room for him and he gratefully takes his place between them. Sylus finally grabs the bra and removes it, joining it with your shirt and pants on the floor. His hand returns to your breast quickly, his hand gently massaging it while his lips make their way down lower. 

Slowly but surely, he reaches your panties and places lingering kisses just above them. Your hips buck up towards him and you hear the rumble of his rich chuckle. 'Sweetie, you know what you do to me. I fear I might not survive if I spend all my time between your legs.' 

'And I fear I might not survive if you don't fuck me right now,' you groan, giving a firm thug on his hair. You hear him gasp and it goes straight to your pussy. You cuss under your breath as you look down at the smug smile he wears. His fingers hook under your panties and pull them off. They join your other clothing on the floor. 

'You're soaked,' he notes, satisfied. 

'And you're not inside me yet.' Another rumbling laugh as he reaches for his own boxers and pulls them off in a swift motion. Shit, he's big and... are those- 

'They'll feel good. Trust me,' he promises as he watches you look at the two piercings making up his frenum ladder. You reach out to touch it and he lets you. He shivers under your touch as you run your hand over the metal beats on the underside of his dick. 

'One of these days I'm going to make you fuck me raw,' you say, not really realizing what you're saying as you're completely enamored with his dick and piercings. 

'You can't say stuff like that. I'm trying to go slow,' he almost gasps for air with every word and snatches the condom from your hand to quickly roll it on. You watch him lean over you, one of his hands firmly planted next to your head, the other guiding his cock towards your entrance. 

'Fuck slow.' You wrap your legs around him, pulling him towards you. He slips inside easily but goddamn it's a fucking stretch to say the very least. All you can hear is a mixed chorus of groans and gasps. He doesn't move his hips as his eyes study your face, fearing the discomfort he sees might be too much for you. However, you could care less. You feel so incredibly full and ecstatic to be spending the night with him that you might just burst right now. You reach out for him, grabbing his shoulders to pull him down for a kiss. 

'Are you alright,' he asks, holding off the kiss until he has your ok, 'I'm all the way in.' 

'I'm fine. Just kiss me and please move. I need it so fucking bad,' you beg. He does as you say, crashing his lips on yours as he sets a painfully slow tempo to get you used to him. You feel like you're going to snap if he keeps this up. 'Please move faster.' Your words sound more like a moan. 

'Are you sure, sweetie? You seem to be enjoying it just fine.' He looks down at you with pure amusement. Seems he's in a mood. You quickly shove his arm and manage to turn him on his back, not that he puts up much of a fight. 

'I thought you wanted me on top,' you tease back, sheeting yourself on his dick in one motion before he can even respond. Sylus lets out a low groan, throwing his head back and clawing at your hips for something to hold on to. 'Are you going to be a good boy for me and let me ride you?' 

'What happens if I say no.' 

'You'll have to find out.' He nods in response and makes himself comfortable on the pillows. You take that as your go ahead and set an absolutely feral pace. He was right about those piercings. They feel amazing.  

The horniest gasp you've ever heard slips from Sylus’ lips as he turns bright red in the face. His hands move down to your thighs, nails digging into your skin. You'll certainly have bruises tomorrow. 

'Does that feel good,' you ask him as you lean down a little, planting your hands on his chest, nails raking over his pecs. 

'Yes,' he moans, looking absolutely beautifully drunk on you. You feel your high approaching, as does he from what you can tell. He's so close to unraveling and it's beautiful. You wish you could capture this moment, keep this feeling bottled up on your nightstand.  

His hands move back to your hips as he suddenly plants his heels against the mattress and starts trusting up into you, hitting new highs deep inside of you. Highs that no one has ever hit before. Highs that you want him to hit each and every day. He's addicting. Your whole body is tingling as you lean closer towards him, trying to keep up with his pace while you kiss him. He seems too focused to kiss you properly. It's a mess of spit, biting, teeth clanking, and it's so fucking hot. You lick down his neck as you feel your high approaching so fucking fast. 

And there it goes. You hear an animalistic groan next to you, feel it rumble through his chest as his motions become sloppier. Your body topples over the edge and in a moment of absolute bliss, to suppress the absolutely vile sounds you make, you bite down on his shoulder. Hard. Sylus moans at the pain, grabbing your ass to push your body down against him, holding you in place speared on his cock. 

Waves of pleasure shake through your body as Sylus presses sweet kisses on top of your head. His hips move ever so slightly, helping you ride it out. Your eyelids start feeling heavy, your body is aching, your pussy is clenching up. 

'Are you alright?' Sylus voice is different now. It sounds almost worried. You release his shoulder from your bite and prop yourself up on his chest. 

'Peachy,' you reply with a hazy smile, 'wanna take a nap and do it again in a few hours?' 

There goes that rumbling laugh of his again. His hands start rubbing your back as he leans up to peck your lips. It's such an innocent gesture if you don't think about the fact that his dick is still inside you, twitching with every single tiny movement you make. 'As much as I would like that. Let's give it a few more hours and do it again in the morning. Deal?' 

'Only if we take a shower together.' 

'I'll do you one better. I have a tub.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Previous - Next

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Taglist

@carmelves

@terriblesoup

@valkyyriia

@fvcknwww

@itsizumiiii

@ludwigsb0nker

@amywright

@frenchmess23yo

@malleus-draconias-rose

@deathkat657

@sweetnanah

@trishiepo0

@iraot

@nyxie-00

@sherlockstolemyname

@poptrim

@dummiebunny

@everythingistaken00

@ikesimpleton

@tyys-stuff

@venussakura

@crimsonlittlecrow

@raiyuxa

@pxxchyjjk168

@satansdaughter123

@nekee-lilac02

@brekkers-whore

@datfangirl

@datura109

@napa-the-yappa

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

[little-wicked10]

Wanna Bet?🌹

Summary: After inviting her to be his date to some dinner, she finds out about the cruel and sleazy bet between Soldier Boy and his sidekick.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, cursing, dirty talk, body insecurities, self-doubt, Gunpowder and Black Noir being dicks, use of the word ‘fat’, body worship, mirror sex, overstimulation, creampie

Notes: I read this headcannon by @zepskies that really hit me in the feels. I deal with body insecurities, and I was inspired to write this for anyone that’s ever felt insecure or ashamed of their body🩷 Plus, Soldier Boy gives off the vibe that he’d like a thick girl😈 Prepare to cry and be horny (it’s a confusing feeling).

//

The reflection she saw in the mirror she didn’t like. It was too easy to pick apart every aspect of her body that she found undesirable: her stomach wasn’t flat, love handles, stretch marks on her thighs, arms kinda flabby, and her ass was too big. Don’t even get her started on her breasts. At least, that’s how she saw herself, a collection of undesirable, unattractive features. While some would refer to her as curvy, she knew that was a nice way of saying she wasn’t thin.

Fat to be exact.

Despite all the things she thought was wrong about her, Soldier Boy apparently didn’t. It was hard not to be intimidated by the supe when he approached her with that confident swagger, sitting on the edge of her desk. She blushed when he flashed a charming smile and began complimenting her.

“So listen, I need a date for this bullshit dinner in Payback’s honor,” his tone was playful, “I came around to ask if you’d be my arm candy for the night.”

Her eyes widened in shock, “Y-You want me to go? With you?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to, sweetheart,” he chuckled, “What do ya say? Wanna spend a night with America’s Hero?”

Of course, she said yes. She’d have been an idiot not to. It wasn’t until she was by herself did she realize what she agreed to, and her stomach fluttered with anxiety and excitement. She was about to go on a date with Soldier Boy. THE Soldier Boy. The supe that has his pick of any woman asked her to be his date. She recognizes he probably asked out of convenience. She was the one female employee he hadn’t tried to or succeeded in sleeping with.

He wouldn’t want to sleep with her anyway. Why would he? Rumors around the tower were he had playmates and supermodels on speed dial, so why would he want to sleep with her? She was just a plain office employee that blended into the background.

A knock interrupted her reeling thoughts. Opening the door, a young man from Vought stood balancing a clothes bag and a couple of boxes in his arms. She let him in and watched as he set the items out on her kitchen counter. She thanked him as she handed him a decent tip. The poor kid probably wasn’t making enough to run errands for a bunch of supes.

Delicately, her fingers began to inspect the items before noticing a note attached to one of the boxes:

‘Pick you up at 7. Wear this for me, doll - SB’

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach seeing his handwriting. She quickly unzipped the bag to reveal a beautiful black silk dress, “Holy shit.” The boxes contained a pair of strappy black heels and glittering diamond jewelry. If she wasn’t in disbelief before, she definitely was now.

Looking up at the clock, she shifted gears and began to get ready. She was meticulous in her routine: shaving and moisturizing until she felt soft and smooth, redoing her makeup to perfection, taking extra care with every strand of hair curled. She hadn’t felt this giddy and nervous in a long time. God knew the last time she put this much effort into her self-care. While her insecurities still rested heavily in her thoughts, a little bubble of hope settled in her chest. Maybe he would find her attractive enough to sleep with.

It should have been more upsetting that she could potentially be another notch on his belt, but the way he looked at her made her feel so….beautiful, attractive, sexy even.

She didn’t stare at her reflection too long, simply glancing to make sure everything was together and perfect. She felt so beautiful and studying herself would only ruin that feeling. Suddenly, there was another knock at her door. Looking at the clock, nerves chewed on her stomach realizing he had arrived right on time.

She stepped towards the door and, with trembling hands, opened it. Leaning against the door frame, looking like the Marlboro man himself, was Soldier Boy. His eyes blatantly roamed over her head to toe, “Christ on a cross! Aren’t you delicious.”

She nearly melted into a puddle, “T-Thank you. You have great taste.”

He smirked before producing a rose from behind his back, “I know what looks good on a woman’s body. Usually, it’s me.”

He chuckled when her whole face broke out in a deep blush before taking the flower from him. “C’mon, sexy. Got a limo and champagne on ice waiting for us downstairs,” he smirked as he held out his arm to her that she quickly accepted.

//

All eyes fell on Soldier Boy and his date the second they entered the room. They all wanted to know who the supe had decided to bring. He encouraged her to feel up his muscles with a mischievous grin as they moved about the party. She was quiet as she walked with him, observing the charismatic way he interacted with everyone that approached. People were just captivated by him. It was too easy to get caught up in his charming smile and hearty laugh.

Her back stiffened when she noticed they were getting closer to Payback, one of the more nerve wracking tables to be a guest at. He must have felt her tense because he chuckled, “Don’t be so uptight, baby. You’re rollin’ with Soldier Boy. Have some fun.” She looked up at his forest green eyes, biting her lip and nodding with a smile. He suddenly stopped a waiter with a tray of champagne flutes, taking one for himself and urging her to do the same.

He gently clinked their glasses together before downing the liquor in one go. He groaned in satisfaction which sent her imagination running wild. God, was that man a walking sex dream. They finally stood around Payback’s table. The team members didn’t seem too friendly with one another. It was more like they tolerated each other, but that wasn’t new.

Soldier Boy released her arm to pull out a chair. She mumbled a shy thank you before sitting down. Glancing around the table, she noticed Gunpowder and Black Noir whispering to themselves before laughing. Doubt crept into her mind, body nearly closing in on itself, when a large hand rested against her lower back. Eyes darted over to see Soldier Boy smirking at her. Her stomach fluttered again, skin breaking out in goosebumps from the warmth of his palm. The look on his face gave away the fact he loved seeing her so flustered.

//

It was nearing the end of the night when he excused himself, “Don’t go anywhere, gorgeous. Gotta talk with the big wigs before we get outta here.” Her cheeks pinked, and she nodded, watching him disappear into the crowd of people. A content sigh leaves her lips, fingers admiring the rose he’d given her. She was having a great time, which she hadn’t expected. She assumed she’d be ignored the second they arrived, but Ben (which he insisted she call him) had been nothing but a charming date. Flirting and little touches that had her heart racing and heat pooling between her legs. It was like he knew the effect he had on her.

“Can’t believe I owe that son of a bitch a $100.”

“I told you it was a bad idea.”

Gunpowder and Black Noir’s voices caught her attention. She looked around and found them just a few steps away from the table near the bar. They either didn’t know or didn’t care how loud they were as they continued their conversation. Whatever they were talking about, Gunpowder was pissed off.

“You know better than to make bets with that asshole,” Noir chastised, “You lost $500 betting he couldn’t convince Farah Fawcett and Cindy Crawford to a threesome.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Looks like he’s actually gonna go for it,” Gunpowder groaned, “I thought he’d be too shallow to sleep with her fat ass.”

There it was, her worst fear. She felt like cold water had been dumped on her, jolting her awake from whatever dream she’d been in. This whole thing had been a bet? Her throat constricted and tears began to burn in her eyes, stomach twisting till she felt nauseas. She felt so pathetic and stupid. How could she have been so blind? It was all just a fucked up game, and she played right into it.

She stood and quickly made her way to the nearest bathroom. Her vision blurred causing her to bump a few people on her way out. They scowled and complained, but she didn’t notice. Once hidden away, tears began to trickle down her cheeks. Of course this had been a cruel joke. Somebody like Ben wouldn’t have given her a second glance if it he wasn’t getting something out of it. She leaned against the sink, wiping her cheeks and refusing to look up in the mirror. She could scrutinize herself and all her flaws later. Right now, she just wanted to disappear.

She took a moment to collect herself before exiting the bathroom. Quietly sniffling as she walked down the hall, she held herself for comfort or else she’d fall apart.

“Hey! There ya are!”

Her heart stopped beating hearing his heavy boots approach her. This couldn’t be happening.

“Thought you ditched me. You weren’t tryin’ to run out on me, were ya, sweetheart?” he teased.

She tried to pick up her pace and keep her head down, praying he’d take the hint to leave her alone, but he easily stopped her by stepping in her path. His original words were stuck on his tongue when he noticed her distress, big tears welling in her eyes, “Hey, what’s goin’ on? What happened?”

She sniffled, a sour taste forming in her mouth, “I-I appreciate the…date, but I think it’s better if I go.”

He blocked her attempt to step around him, “Whoa, whoa, hold on. Why are ya cryin?”

Anger bubbled up in her chest at his false ignorance, “Tell Gunpowder you owe him $100.” The statement stunned him, mouth hanging ajar in shock trying to think of what to say. “Next time you make a bet like that, make sure your fucking sidekick isn’t in earshot of your ‘date’,” she clenched her teeth to keep her voice from trembling.

She once again went to step around him, but his hand wrapping around her upper arm and swung her around to face him, “Wait, c’mon. Lemme explain, doll.”

She tried to pry her arm from his hold, but he was obviously too strong, “Let me go.”

“Just listen, will ya?“ he could hear her breathing become more shaky, heart rate picking up.

“I’m not listening to anything you have to say!” she choked, struggling to escape his hold, “You tricked me into thinking you actually wanted to go out with me. That you might have thought I was…attractive.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Ben asked astonished, “You’re sexy as hell!”

“Oh, spare me! Spare me the curvy comments or whatever bullshit you come up with! I’m just some fat ass you got paid to try and fuck, but it’s not happening!” the tears came full force now, insecurities exposed like an open would, “I’m so fucking stupid for thinking Soldier Boy would genuinely find me attractive at all.”

Suddenly, she was pushed up against the nearest wall, his growl rumbling down the empty corridor. Both his hands had her shoulders pinned, their chests only inches apart. “You gonna listen, or keep bitchin’?” the look in his eyes was dark. She was frozen in place at the show of strength and aggression. She didn’t wanna listen, but what choice did she have?

“Yeah, I made the bet. Made it so limp dick motherfuckers like Noir couldn’t get to your sexy ass before me,” he rasped.

“Don’t fuck with me,” she argued, “Nobody thinks I’m sexy.”

“Says who?” he quipped.

Her eyes cast down to the eagle on his chest, “Everyone.”

“Oh really? Everyone?” Ben suddenly took her hand and pushed it against the front of his pants. He chuckled and smirked at her wide eyes and small gasp, “Might wanna tell my dick that, honey. He clearly didn’t get the memo.”

He could hear her heart race soar, blood pumping faster to pink her cheeks and roar in her own ears. She looked at him in disbelief. “This sexy body of yours has been drivin’ me nuts!” he groaned, “You know how hard it was not to bend you over that table, lift that lil’ dress up, and fuck you raw? Fuck you like a woman should be fucked?”

Her breathing had turned to desperate pants the more he spoke.

“I’m a greedy motherfucker, baby. When I want something, I get it. Right now, I wanna touch every part of ya that you don’t like and tell ya why it’s my favorite,” his lips pressed against her ear, trailing down her neck, “I know what looks good on a woman’s body. Yours would look better naked and under mine.”

//

“B-Ben…please,” she gasped, clutching the sheets between her fingers.

His reply was the obscene sound of him slurping at her overstimulated pussy. The man had been making out with her weeping center for what felt like hours. The orgasms were beginning to melt together making her brain turn to mush. Ben planned to worship her body head to toe. He stood her in front of a mirror and told her to point out all the things she thought he wouldn’t like.

When she tried to look away from her reflection, he gently wrapped a hand around her jaw and made her look, “Nuh uh. Do as you’re told.”

He saw her eyes glance down, “M-My thighs. They h-have s-stretch marks. They’re t-too big.”

Ben was quick to spread her out on his giant Alaskan king bed to leave his mark on her plush thighs. He could have stayed down there for a few more hours if his cock wasn’t aching to be inside her. It was when he pulled away to let her catch her breath did she notice the ceiling was actually a mirror. A surprised gasp passed her kiss swollen lips seeing Ben’s back muscles flex between her spread legs. Her body felt too heavy to move, so she closed her eyes.

“No,” his voice was stern, “That mirror’s there for a reason, baby. Look at yourself, or I’ll stop.”

A pathetic whine came from her throat that was unrecognizable before she opened her eyes. She watched as he traveled up her body, his broader one obscuring the view of herself. She cried out when he harshly sucked and bit at her breasts. Her hands locked into his hair as she arched into his mouth. Ben made sure to kiss every stretch mark he found before leaving a deep bruise in the shape of his mouth and teeth. He pulled off of her with a pop before switching their position.

Before she knew it, she was laid on top of him, legs resting on either side of his to keep her spread out. She could see in the reflection his dick hard and leaking, twitching when he rutted his hips up to coat it in her slick. Ben wrapped an arm around her under her breasts to keep her in place as his free hand lined his tip up with her entrance. The way he was manhandling her had her lust skyrocketing. She never thought a man would be able to dominate her like that until now.

“Fuck! You’re beautiful,” he growled in her ear as his tip finally slipped inside.

She moaned and tried to move her hips down to sink more of him inside. The arm around her torso held her still, “Patient, sweetheart. Just keep watching.”

Their eyes met in the mirror, the green in his had turned black with desire. Ben nibbled her earlobe and neck as he sunk himself deeper inside until his tip kissed the back of her cervix. A mix between a strangled cry and whimper came out of her mouth as he stretched her out. She struggled not to let her eyes roll back into her head as he began to move. Unable to control himself, Ben started fucking her with purpose. Deep, hard thrusts nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. He watched as her eyes moved between his flexing arm around her and where his dick disappeared inside her.

“See? Look how pretty you are, baby? These pretty tits,” his hands suddenly cupping both of them in his hands, squeezing harshly, “This soft body. Those thick thighs. All of it. All of you gets me so fucking hard.”

She moaned, unable to look away from their reflection now. She was mesmerized by his words and the way his length brushed against that sensitive spot inside her. Every time he hit it, she saw stars. Ben attacked it like it was his mission. Desperate babbling rolled off her tongue as he fucked her with intense purpose. Her brain had officially shut off, too drunk on lust to give a damn about something like insecurities.

His groan vibrated against her back when her walls started clenching down on him, “Cum for me, beautiful. Ya gonna watch? I know I am.”

The band tightened, and tightened, and tightened, so close to the end but not quite there. She cried out in desperate frustration catching Ben’s attention. His right hand left her breast and trailed down her plush stomach until he reached her clit. He circled the little wet pearl with his middle finger in time with his thrusts. She screamed at the overstimulation and came, squirting all over their thighs and the mattress. Ben kept going, drawing out the electricity coursing through her until her hips started jerking away from his hand.

“One more,” he ordered.

“C-C…can’t!” she babbled.

“Oh you’re gonna, baby. I’m ruinin’ this pussy if it’s the last thing I do,” he growled.

He snapped his hips hard, slamming into that gummy spot and making her squirt again. She tried to scream but nothing came out. Her eyes finally looked away to roll into her head, tremors wracking her body as she fell apart. Ben shoved himself as deep as he could when he came. “Fuck!” he moaned as he kept rutting into her until he was completely spent.

She felt like she was floating, barely able to string together a conscious thought. Her body buzzed in the aftershocks of the incredible orgasms he’s wracked her body with. He carefully shifted them to lay on their sides, spooning her and not daring to pull out. He smirked at her trembling body in his arms. “Just relax,” he kissed her temple before glancing up at the mirror, “Good girl. Told you I’d look good on you.”

[grimeshound]

UNDER YOUR SPELL.

word count: 4,329 (someone got a little carried away...)

pairing: in-ho x you.

summary: you haunt in-ho’s every thought, an obsession he can’t shake no matter how hard he tries—you have no idea the hold you have on him. when you get drunk for the first time, in-ho seizes the opportunity to show you just how deeply you’ve affected him.

cw: 18+, age-gap, dubcon (forced intoxication), mirror sex, first time, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, semi-public sex, dirty talk, corruption, manipulation

a/n: i’ve had this plot simmering in my head over the past few days ever since i wrote my in-ho hcs and it was practically begging to be written … manipulative in-ho my beloved

---

Ever since he first laid eyes on you, In-ho thought you were the prettiest little angel to ever step foot in this hellhole.

You were nothing like the others. Kind, wide doe eyes, sweet smile that radiated innocence. He wondered how a pretty thing like you had ended up in a place like this. In-ho always did pride himself in his appreciation for the arts, all things with beauty. The moment he took notice of you, it didn’t take long for him to wonder what it would take to make you his.

You had joined a small group, after having met a kind man named Jung-bae who graciously let you in. Everyone shared their names, and that’s when you learned his. Oh Young-il. Except, of course, that wasn’t his real name. Just a guise, a character to play during the time he spent amongst the players. That didn’t matter, though, since you rarely used his name. 

“Sir,” you’d say. The times you did call his name, it’d be “Mister Young-il.”

The first time you spoke to him, you were nervous. It was hard not to be, something about his piercing gaze had a hold on you. Yet, you couldn’t help but admire him. The way you looked up at him, your voice so soft and deferential, made his pulse quicken. He’d do anything to protect you, and he did. Each time the games forced you apart, you’d come running to him the moment you returned to the main hall, your face lighting up with relief.

“I’m so happy you’re okay, sir.” You’d smile at him, and he’d smile back, gentle and reassuring.

You hadn’t realized it, but your attachment to him was carefully orchestrated, a product of all the high-risk situations In-ho would engineer to put you through. He’d swoop in at the perfect moment to save you, it made you trust him, made you depend on him more than anyone else. It also nurtured the little crush you were already dewasveloping, and he noticed. You couldn’t help it. He  kind to you, protective, and so devastatingly handsome.

Behind the scenes, he dug through your file. Orphaned from a young age, too naive to understand the world’s cruelties. Trusting the wrong people, you had fallen into debt, landing here. The more he learned, the more he was convinced—You needed someone to take care of you. Someone like him.

One night, In-ho just couldn’t take it anymore. After hours of keeping up his cold, calculated facade, he found himself teetering on the edge of his own sanity. The stress of orchestrating the games was always a burden he bore in silence. But lately? It wasn’t just the carnage and strategy that weighed on his mind. On top of all that, now there was you. Every stolen glance, every soft word you uttered, every moment in your presence had burrowed under his skin. You consumed him, invading every thought until there was no room for anything else.

He knew he was losing control.

When the last murmurs of conversation faded throughout the main hall and the players around him drifted into an uneasy sleep, he finally gave in to his impulses. He had a guard sneak him a bottle of soju, not caring how inappropriate or risky the request was. Rank had its privileges, and he wasn’t above abusing them.

Even in the dim light he spotted you, laid in your bed not too far from his own. All curled up and completely unaware of the monster disguised as your guardian angel watching over you. He swallowed thickly, his jaw clenching as he tried to steady his breathing. 

He listened to the sound of your breathing as a guide, the quiet rhythm of inhale and exhale filling his ears before finally pulling the bottle from its hiding place beneath his pillow. With a sharp twist, he uncapped it, the faint scent of alcohol wafting into the air around him. Sitting up in his bunk, he took a long, deliberate swig. The burn of the soju as it slid down his throat was a welcome distraction, albeit temporary. He exhaled, running a hand through his disheveled hair.  

The alcohol dulled the edges of his stress but sharpened something far more dangerous, far sicker. Desire. Thoughts of you came to surface before he could resist, vivid and unrelenting. He thought of your wide, trusting eyes looking up at him, the way your voice wavered when you spoke his name. He didn’t stop his thoughts when they turned more and more depraved. Your quiet utters of his name turning into obscene moans, innocent brushes of skin escalating into him fucking you like a madman into the crummy bed he sat beneath. The way you clung to him, so innocent, so naive, so completely unaware of just how sick his thoughts would turn because of you. 

He took another long swig, his grip tightening around the bottle as his frustration intensified. How could you do this to him without even realizing? Without even trying? It was maddening, the hold you had over him. And now, with the liquor loosening his usually taut held control, he found himself wondering how much longer he could resist. How much longer he could keep his hands to himself.

And then, as if summoned by his desires, your voice broke the silence.

“Sir?”

He turned to see you turned towards him, rubbing your eyes like a sleepy child. He softened instantly, smiling lazily as he called your name. “You’re awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” You climbed up to his bed without hesitation, settling beside him. “What about you?” 

“Me neither,” he murmured. He thanked whatever god there was that you couldn’t read his mind, couldn’t take a peek into the sick fantasies that had clouded up his thoughts just moments ago. Even now, when sat face to face with you, they played in the background— like a channel he couldn’t turn off no matter how hard he’d press the remote. Only, he didn’t make much effort in stopping them. If anything, the fantasies only shot up with you now in front of him. 

Your attention was soon drawn to the green bottle in his hand. “Is that… soju?”

He chuckled at your amazement. “It is.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “I’ve never had any before.”

His heart skipped. You really were too good to be true, weren’t you? He feigned surprise. “Never?”

You shook your head. “No. But..” You hesitated for a bit. “I’d like to try, if that’s okay.”

How polite. How trusting. He handed the bottle to you, hiding his smirk beneath a kind, patient smile. “Of course. Go ahead.”

You took it with both hands, your fingers brushing his briefly. There was a moment of hesitation, a fleeting glance at him as though you were silently asking for reassurance. He gave you a small nod, his expression warm and encouraging. Uttey deceptive. The thought of getting you completely wasted, rendering you impossibly dumber and even more impressionable than you already are rang like music to his ears. You tilted your head back as you gulped down more than he expected. He didn’t stop you, though. Simply watching with quiet satisfaction as you drained a sizable amount.

The first sip had your nose scrunching up, the bitter taste of the alcohol overhwleming you. Instead of backing out, you pressed on, curiosity and his approving gaze egging you on. With each gulp, you felt your body tense slightly at the unaccustomed burn that slid down your throat.

In-ho watched you intently, his dark eyes locked on you as the bottle tipped higher and higher. You were drinking far more than he expected, but he made no effort to stop you. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his lips quirking into a faint smile. Quiet satisfaction flickered in his eyes as he watched your determination to please him override your inexperience.

When you finally lowered the bottle, your lips were shiny from the liquid, your cheeks already beginning to flush, something In-ho was quick to take notice of. Whether it be your inexperience, the quickness of which you downed the Soju or the fact that you haven’t really drank or ate much prior. The alcohol had hit you harder than you anticipated, working its way through your system with worrying speed. Your head tilted back slightly as you tried to regain focus, blinking up at him with worried, glassy eyes. 

“Sir,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “I feel…so funny.”

He stepped closer, his hand moving to steady you by your waist when your knees buckled slightly. “Funny how, sweetheart?” he humored you, the concern in his tone carefully crafted.

“Dizzy,” You clung to him instinctively, your hands gripping his arm like a lifeline as you specified. “I feel lightheaded, mister Young-il. M’scared.”

“Shh,” he murmured, pulling you closer against his chest. His hand slid to your back, rubbing soothing circles as he held you steady. “It’s okay. You’re just not used to it, s’all.”

Your forehead rested against his chest, your breath uneven as you tried to make sense of the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. He tilted his head slightly, looking down at you with something twisted in his gaze, though his voice remained tender and reassuring. “Poor baby,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. His hand stroked your hair, the sound of his words soothing you. “I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”

You were too drunk to notice the dark glint in his eyes or the way his smile lingered just a little too long. Too naive to realize how tightly his grip held you, as though he’d never let go.

Young-il led you to the bathroom, steadying you with a firm grip as you clung to him for balance. Every touch, every reassuring glance he gave you was planned down to the last detail, feeding into the web he’d been weaving since the moment he first laid eyes on you. You were his perfect little pawn, and now, more than ever, he could see his plan falling into place. 

When he knocked on the bathroom door, you were already bracing yourself for the usual bargaining and desperate pleading that so often accompanied requests to use the facilities. But to your surprise, the guards let you both pass without hesitation, a testament to the sway your knight in shining armor seemed to hold.

He guided you inside, shutting the door behind you with a quiet click. Leading you to the sink, he turned on the faucet, letting the cool water rush out. “Here,” he said softly, his voice calm and soothing. “Let’s wash your face. It’ll help.”

You nodded, leaning over the sink and splashing the water onto your flushed cheeks. The cold sting sent a brief jolt through you, though it did little to clear the fog in your mind. When you blinked your eyes open and straightened, you nearly jumped at the sight of him standing right behind you, close enough that you could feel his presence like a weight against your back.

Your wide-eyed gaze flicked up to the mirror. He stood there, his expression as unreadable as ever, but the intensity in his eyes made your stomach twist. Despite yourself, you wiped your face with your sleeve and offered him a sheepish smile.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, stepping closer. His hand brushed your damp hair back from your face, the gesture tender in a way that made your breath hitch.

“Good,” you mumbled, though the truth was far from it. The alcohol swirled in your system, leaving you dizzier than before. But the way he touched you, the way he looked at you, it sent a warmth through your chest that was impossible to ignore.

“Yeah?” he hummed, his tone low and velvety, each syllable wrapping around you like a shackle. You hadn’t even noticed how close he’d gotten until now, his chest pressing lightly against your back.

Your breath hitched as something firm brushed against you from behind, and you let out a small, involuntary whimper. “Sir Young-il…?”

“In-ho,” he rasped, cutting you off. “My real name, it’s In-ho.” His voice had dropped even lower, and there was something raw and possessive in the way he said it. You blinked, confused, his real name rolling off your tongue before you could even think twice to question him.

“In-ho,” you repeated softly, as if testing the weight of it. “What’s going on?”

His lips curved into a faint smile, his hands settling firmly on your waist. “Don’t worry, baby,” he whispered, his eyes meeting yours through the mirror. “I’ll take good care of you. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded too quickly, too eagerly, the alcohol and your long-brewing crush on him clouding your better judgment. “I trust you,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his grip tightening slightly as he trailed his fingers along your waist, his touch deliberate and possessive.

He leaned in, closing the already small gap between you two as his lips found yours in a kiss—the first one you’d ever shared. Admittedly, it wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined it to unfold. You pictured your first kiss with a high school crush, maybe some boy your age who’d take you out on an innocent date. But all those dreams faded the moment you met In-ho, and now, all dreams you had were consumed by him.

You pressed against him, letting him take control as his kiss deepened, hungry and intense, like a man starved for more. You followed his lead instinctively, trusting him—because you always knew, deep down, he knew what was best. So when he raised his fingers to your lips, you hesitated for only a moment before parting them, allowing him to slip two fingers inside. His dark eyes gleamed as you sucked obediently, your cheeks flushing deeper under his watchful gaze. A low, guttural sound escaped his throat, and his breathing grew heavier.

Pulling his fingers away, he wasted no time in hooking them into the waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them down in one hasty motion. His lips found the curve of your jaw, trailing kisses up to your ear as his right hand skimmed the sensitive skin of your neck.

You grabbed his wrist suddenly, your touch light and hesitant. “Wait, In-ho—” you murmured, your voice trembling with embarrassment. His dark eyes met yours in the mirror, his expression softening ever so slightly.

“I… I’ve never done anything like this before,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He wasn’t surprised; he had suspected as much. But hearing it from you, seeing the vulnerability in your gaze—only stoked the fire burning within him.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice deceptively gentle, though there was an unmistakable tension in his tone.

You shook your head quickly, biting your lip. “I trust you. Just… be gentle. Please.” 

He smiled at that, a flicker of something darker hidden beneath the curve of his lips. “Of course,” he murmured, his hands resuming their slow exploration. But in his mind, he knew the truth: restraint was never his strong suit. Especially when it came to you. 

And with you—so soft, so eager, so completely his, he doubted he could hold himself back for long.

His fingers, still slick with your saliva, trailed down to your entrance, brushing over it with deliberate precision. The touch made you jolt, a shiver running up your spine as you gasped. In-ho groaned low in his throat, his eyes fixed on your reflection in the mirror. “Fucking dripping,” he mused, his voice a sinful rasp. Slowly, he slid a finger inside, the intrusion making your thighs instinctively part.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he pressed deeper, his touch firm but unhurried. This wasn’t the first time you’d felt something like this, but the last time had been your own doing—fumbling, desperate, and entirely unremarkable. That had been just days ago, tucked away in one of these very bathroom stalls, shamefully thinking of him. Now, with his hands where yours had been, the stark difference had you feeling light-headed. 

His fingers were thicker, rougher, impossibly skilled. The sensation left you trembling, your legs threatening to give out as he worked you open. His other arm snaked around your upper chest, holding you close, his grip firm yet possessive. The position bordered on a chokehold, but instead of fear, it only sent another wave of heat coursing through you.

Your breath hitched as a soft, broken “Ohmygod,” fell from your lips. He didn’t pause, didn’t falter. His finger curled just right, hitting a spot that made you see stars. Your hands gripped on In-ho’s forearm, knuckles white as you bit down hard on your lower lip, trying and failing to stifle your moans.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was like velvet, roughened by desire. He pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. His other hand released its hold on your chest as it moved lower, settling on the curve of your ass. He squeezed firmly, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you.

You nodded weakly, barely able to form words. “Uh-huh… feels so good, sir,”

That made him chuckle, a deep, dark sound that reverberated through your body. The honorific sent a thrill down his spine, his cock straining against the confines of his sweatpants.

“You’re ready,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he pulled back just enough to tug his waistband down. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes wide as you took him in, the sight was intimidating, your head reeling. 

"In-ho, I–I don’t think I can take that." Your voice faltered, a hint of shame creeping into your words. He laughed, a sound so familiar it sent a chill down your spine. It was the kind of hearty laugh you'd grown so used to hearing from him. But now, there was something different—something darker layered beneath it, like a cruel mockery. "Course you can, angel," he said, his tone smooth but laced with an unsettling edge. "I know you can. Let me take care of you."

“H-Here? Like this?” you asked, your voice small and unsure, referring to the state he had you in—bent over the sink and in front of the mirror. utterly at his mercy.

He leaned in, his hand gripping your chin and forcing your gaze back at your reflection. “Right here,” he confirmed, his voice a low growl. Want you to watch yourself while I’m fucking you open.”

The vulgarity of his words sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively arching for him. You nodded, too dazed and drunk to do anything else, and he didn’t waste another second.

He slid inside slowly, the stretch making you cry out and grip the sink tighter. The initial sting was sharp, but it quickly gave way to something deeper, something so intense it left you gasping. Your legs wobbled beneath you, and you leaned harder against the sink for support.

“In-ho… In-ho,” you whimpered, his name falling from your lips like a chant. “Sir… I— I feel you in my stomach.”

The confession had him groaning, a sound so guttural it made your knees weak. “Yeah? Fuck, baby.” He babbled as he moved closer, his body pressing against yours as his hand trailed down with deliberate slowness. When his palm flattened against your stomach, his fingers brushing over the faint outline of him inside you, your breath hitched. 

“Feel that?” he murmured, his composure slipping as he began to move. His hips snapped against yours, each thrust deliberate and punishing. You nodded frantically, a whimper escaping as he pressed down, sending a shockwave through your body. “In-ho, nngh!—“ 

You were completely out of it, your thoughts a tangled haze, your body slack and pliant in his hands. The alcohol coursing through your veins had stripped away every layer of hesitation, leaving you wide open to his manipulations. And In-ho, oh, he reveled in it. The way your voice slurred when you called his name, the way your movements were unsteady, dependent on him for every step and touch—it all fueled his sick delight. You were better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

As he pulled you closer, pressing into you from behind, your gaze flicked to the bathroom door, a flicker of worry breaking through your drunken stupor. “In-ho…” you mewled, voice soft as you felt your body jerk with each rough thrust he made.. “What if–ah!—someone walks in?”

He paused, his hands resting possessively on your hips, a smile ghosting across his lips. “Don’t worry about that,” he said, his voice low and soothing, though there was an unmistakable edge of amusement in his tone. “The guards won’t come.” His confidence sent a shiver through you, but you weren’t entirely convinced. “But… but what if another player—”

“No one’s going to interrupt us,” he said firmly, his dark eyes boring into yours before you could finish your sentence. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. “You’re with me. They wouldn’t dare.”

Something about the absolute certainty, the power in his voice—had your anxiety ebbing away, replaced by a strange sense of safety. You nodded slowly, leaning into his touch, your inhibitions melting once again under his spell.

“You trust me, don’t you, sweetheart?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Mmhm,” You squeaked out through laboured breaths. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, pulling you back against him. He watched your reflection as his fingers dug into your soft flesh, relishing the way you gasped and arched into his touch.

Your head lolled slightly, your body swaying under his hold. “Mmmh…I feel so dizzy,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

In-ho chuckled darkly, his hands moving to steady you. “That’s just the soju, sweetheart,” he said, though he didn’t bother hiding the smirk on his face. “You’re doing so well for me.”

He loved seeing you like this. Drunk, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. Every soft whimper, every stumble, every little movement that showed how completely you relied on him only fueled his desire. You were his, whether you realized it or not.

As his fingers grazed your skin, he couldn’t resist pushing you further, testing your reactions as he pushed your buttons. “You know,” he murmured, his lips ghosting along the curve of your neck, “Y’look so pretty like this. All fucked out and needy. Just for me.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, pressed against him. “Y-you think so?”

“I know so,” he replied, his voice a velvety purr. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. “Just look at yourself, baby. See how perfect you are for me?”

Your hazy eyes flicked to the mirror, taking in the sight of the two of you. His dark, piercing gaze met yours, his expression raw and predatory. The way he looked at you—it was almost too much. Your cheeks burned, and you averted your eyes, biting your lip.

He wasn’t having that. His hand left your waist, fingers gently gripping your chin and turning your face back toward the mirror. “No,” he said firmly. “I want you to watch. Watch yourself while I take care of you.”

The authority in his voice sent a thrill through you, your body trembling as you nodded weakly. “O-okay—ah, fuck!”

“Atta girl,” he chuckled, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

As his hands roamed lower, teasing and exploring, you couldn’t help the soft, breathless moans that spilled from your lips. Every touch, every word, every look from him pulled you deeper into the fog of your drunken desire, leaving you utterly helpless in his grasp.

And In-ho? He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The room filled with the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin, your muffled cries, and his filthy murmurs. “Thaat’s it, there’s my pretty girl.” His hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, his lips brushing against your ear. “Fucking take it. Just like that.”

Every thrust sent you higher, the alcohol in your system amplifying every sensation, every nerve alight with pleasure. Your mind was fogged, the world around you turning into nothing but a senseless blur. And yet, you felt every little sensation In-ho fed you, each rough snap of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You felt your climax building, overwhelming and unstoppable. Your eyes fluttered shut, ready to let go—but his hand suddenly cupped your cheek, a sharp slap bringing you back.

“I told you,” he growled, his voice authoritative. “None of that. You keep your eyes on me when I fill you up. Understand?”

You nodded frantically, gasping as you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze once again through the mirror—the sight was enough to send you over the edge. Your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as you cried out his name.

The sight of you coming undone beneath him was his undoing. With a few more erratic thrusts, he followed, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you. A deep groan tore from his chest, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he rode out his high.

The room fell into silence, save for the sound of your labored breathing. In-ho steadied you, his hands gentle now as he helped you stand. He brushed your hair back, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“If we get out of here alive…” A sheepish smile spread across your face, “Let’s drink again sometime?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “When we get out,” he corrected, his tone laced with quiet determination. He kissed you once more, sealing the promise. And he meant it. If it meant keeping you by his side, he’d kill every last player in the game with his bare hands.

[drdawnbreaker]

ﾟ°☆𝐃𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐏𝐭.𝟏☆° ﾟ

Heya!! This is my first recommendation list. I read too much and from multiple different fandoms, hehe. I did think about splitting the fandoms up into separate posts, and maybe I'll do that in the future, but for now, these are all just amazing fanfics that I need to share and show off to the world. If you have any fics you really love, whether they are your own or others you love. Send them my way!! Im always looking for new content to read, hehe.

ᴍᴀʀᴠᴇʟ

✦ Unleashed — @veltana

Genre: Smut. Sex Pollen Au.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions, and all he wants is you.

✦ Last Minute — @dollfacefantasy

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Frank Castle x Female Reader

Summary: When Frank won't give you attention, you have to convince him not to leave somehow...

✦ Everybody Talks — @nickfowlerrr

Genre: Smut. Halloween Au

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Curvy!Reader

✦ What If...? — @vunblr

Genre: Smut. Angst. Neighbours Au

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Curvy!Reader

Summary: Bucky navigates his insecurities and guilt from his past as he grows closer to his new neighbour, a nurse.

✦ Who’s She? — @sacredsorceress

Genre: Fluff. Secret double life au.

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: when sam gets injured during a mission and isn’t able to go to a hospital, bucky brings him and natasha to his own home to get cared for by his girlfriend, y/n, who he’s been keeping a secret.

✦ Dr. Bee — @malum-forev

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Bucky x Nurse!Reader

Summary: Bucky has quite the reputation, but all it takes for him to want to change is an hour with an outspoken little Bee.

✦ In losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time) — @mellowsaturns

Genre: Heavy Angst. Onesided-enemies-to-lovers-ish

Pairing: Soldat!Bucky x Assassin!Reader

Summary: When the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy, but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.

✦ Blurred Lines — @ellemj

Genre: Time Travel. Angst. Smut. Fluff. Enemies To Lovers

Pairing: Avengers!Bucky x Reader. 40s!Bucky x Reader

Summary: When choosing a female agent to send back in time to gain young Sergeant Barnes's trust, everyone's in agreement that it should be Sharon. Until Bucky, the man that you barely get along with, speaks up and lets everyone know that it could only be you.

✦ Out of My Head — @navybrat817

Genre: A/B/O. Smut. Angst. Fluff.

Paring: Chubby!Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Summary: Bucky feels a bit insecure during a romantic evening, and you do your best to get him out of his head.

✦ The Memory Remains — @vunblr

Genre: Smut. Angst. Winter Soldier Vibes

Pairing: Bucky x Curvy!Reader

Summary: An unexpected encounter brings Bucky face-to-face with someone from his past, stirring memories he thought were long buried.

✦ Toy Soldier (part 1) — @vunblr

Genre: Dark. Gore. Angst. Fuff. Big feels

Paring: Winter Soldier!Bucky x mutant!Reader

Summary: She had been the tool Hydra used to keep him operational; he, the weapon manipulated by their tendrils to execute their ambitions. Years after breaking free, fate Sam Wilson brings them together once more. Now, they must navigate the challenges of forging a connection beyond the twisted dynamic that once bound them in the past.

ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ

✦ Strawberry Scented — @cakelitter

Genre: Smut. Hybrid au.

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Bunny!Reader

Summary: You remain still blissful as ever. Your dreams must be nice, hopping in meadows and basking in the sun; or is that too stereotypical of him? Wonder if you dream about him. Does your mind replay the sweet and innocent time you spent together? Or do you get dirty dreams about him like he does?

✦ Dolled Up — @coqvttes

Genre: Smut.

Pairing: Carlos Oliveira x Virgin!Reader

Summary: After making you wait nearly two months to lose your virginity, you surprise him in lingerie that you know he can't resist corrupting you in.

✦ Sweetheart Club — @cakelitter

Genre: Smut. Angst. Collage au.

Pairing: Professor!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: “You wanted to talk, professor?” he turns around and faces you, placing down the papers he’s holding on his desk and taking his glasses off. “Yeah, mind explaining the absences?”

✦ Light of the Full Moon — @dollfacefantasy

Genre: Dub-con. Werewolf au. Smut. Angst

Pairing: Husband!Wolf!Chris x Wife!Reader

Summary: Your husband hasn't been the same since coming back from his latest mission. you struggle to understand the cause, not wanting to believe the worst. on the night of a full moon, tensions peak, and you're determined to find out the truth.

✦ LIKE RABBITS ♡ — @dollfacefantasy

Genre: Pure Smut. Hybrid au

Pairing: carlos oliveira x bunny-hybrid!fem!reader

ᴅᴄ

✦ Werewolf!Jason Todd Imagine — @redr0sewrites

Genre: Smut. Werewolf au. Heat/Knotting

Pairing: Jason Todd x Human!Reader

✦ Virgin Jason Todd — @devotedlyandrogynousyouth

Genre: Pure Smut. Drabble. P/W/P

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

sᴘɴ

✦ Tentacles — @sweetcocopowder

Genre: Smut. Monster fucking. Supernatural.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Castiel ft. Alien being?

Summary: Dean has to perform a ritual to continue further in his hunt. Said ritual, is fucking an ancient being that only wants to pleasure. And Cas is here as moral support.

[growthhyp]

An accidental muscle theft here, hi 🫣.

Now, im a 50 years old stepdad i wanted to buy a gift for my stepson maybe those black boxers can work.

The Black Boxers

The warm, early autumn sun shone down on the cluttered garage sale, casting a golden glow on the assortment of forgotten treasures and knick-knacks. You, a 50-year-old man with a heart that had learned the meaning of true love and loss, meandered through the labyrinth of tables, each one groaning under the weight of discarded memories. The air was filled with the aroma of dust and the distant chuckles of neighbors swapping stories and bartering deals. The leaves whispered a soft lullaby as they danced in the gentle breeze, a poignant reminder of how life's seasons change.

Growing up, you had been the shy, unassuming boy, the one who often went unnoticed by the fairer sex. Yet, in your 30s, the universe had thrown you a lifeline in the form of the most enchanting woman you had ever laid eyes on—your future wife and Andrew's mother. The moment you saw her, something inside you had ignited. With trembling hands and a racing heart, you had mustered the courage to approach her, and to your astonishment, she had looked at you with kind eyes and a welcoming smile. Her acceptance of your feelings had been like a breath of fresh air, a new beginning you hadn't dared to dream of.

And now, with her gone, Andrew had become the very essence of your existence, the reason you woke up every morning and worked tirelessly at your job as a restaurant server. The bond between the two of you had grown stronger over the years, despite the stark contrast in your physical appearances. You had never been one to boast about your physique, but Andrew—his mother's son—was a towering testament to athleticism, a force to be reckoned with on the football field. He was a young man you were incredibly proud of, even though his interests had taken him on a path far removed from your own.

The muscular frame that Andrew now flaunted was a stark reminder of his biological father, a man you had never met but had heard tales of. His mother had spoken fondly of his athletic prowess, how he could command the attention of any room with his sheer presence. Yet, as you watched Andrew from the sidelines of his games, you felt a strange kinship with the man you had never known. It was as if the genetic legacy of strength and power had skipped a generation, landing squarely in the hands—or rather, the muscular embrace—of your stepson.

You approached the garage sale with a sense of purpose, knowing that Andrew's birthday was fast approaching. Despite the meager wages from your job as a server, you were determined to find something that would bring a smile to his face. You rummaged through piles of t-shirts and shorts, hoping for something that screamed 'football' without being too cliché. And there, amidst the sea of discarded goods, the muscular man emerged, a beacon of hope with his table of sporting goods.

His biceps bulged as he folded a faded jersey, drawing your eyes to his sculpted physique. "What would you like to purchase?" he asked, his voice deep and resonant. You felt a twinge of nostalgia for your youthful aspirations, the days when you had dreamed of muscles like his. "Actually, I'm looking for something for my son," you replied, trying not to betray the hint of longing in your voice. "He's on the college football varsity team, so I'm not sure what to pick."

The muscular man's eyes lit up with understanding, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He reached beneath the table, producing a black boxer with a subtle silver trim. "This," he said, holding it up with a flourish, "is perfect for someone in his position." The fabric looked durable, the kind that could withstand the rigors of athletic activity. "I guarantee he'll love it," he added with a wink. You nodded, hopeful that this simple piece of clothing could somehow bridge the gap between you and Andrew, remind him that you knew what it was like to be a man, to strive for something greater.

With the exchange of a few crumpled bills, the black boxer became yours to give. You tucked it away safely in your bag, feeling a sense of triumph. It wasn't just any old gift; it was something that screamed 'I support you' in a way that only a fellow sports enthusiast could understand. As you walked away from the table, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy for the life this stranger led—his body a canvas for power and dominance. But you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the excitement of giving Andrew something that might just make his day.

The sun had set by the time you got home, your mind buzzing with anticipation for tomorrow. You wrapped the black boxer in simple, yet elegant, paper, careful not to crease or damage the fabric that now held such promise. You placed it on Andrew's bed, a silent sentinel of the transformation that awaited him. When the morning light streamed through the blinds, he found it, his eyes lighting up like a child's on Christmas day. "Thanks, Dad," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth. You felt a swell of pride, knowing that despite the challenges of your past, you had managed to make a real connection with the young man you had vowed to raise as your own.

That night, the garage sale's mysterious magic began to unfold. As Andrew donned the black boxers, a strange sensation washed over him. His muscles, already formidable, began to swell and pulse with newfound power. He felt a surge of strength and vitality that seemed to emanate from the very fabric that clung to his growing physique. He flexed his biceps in amazement, watching them balloon before his very eyes. His chest broadened, the crevice of his six-pack deepening with each grunt of exertion. His legs thickened, the veins becoming more pronounced as if they were trying to escape the confines of his skin. His cock grew too, standing tall and proud, demanding his attention.

Andrew couldn't believe the transformation. He had always been athletic, but this was something else entirely. The black boxers had unlocked a potential within him that was both thrilling and slightly disconcerting. He tried to contain his excitement, not wanting to alert you to the sudden changes. But as he jerked off, his mind racing with thoughts of unbridled power and virility, he couldn't help but feel a sense of euphoria. His moans and grunts of pleasure filled the quiet house, echoing down the hall to your own room, though you remained oblivious to the cause, attributing the sounds to his natural development.

As the weeks passed, Andrew's football performance soared to new heights. Coaches and teammates alike took notice of the burgeoning beast on the field, his aggression and dominance becoming the talk of the town. Yet, off the field, his personality had begun to shift, mirroring the changes in his physique. The once shy and gentle giant was now a cocky, arrogant presence that seemed to command attention wherever he went. You couldn't help but worry, though you brushed it off, chalking it up to the pressures of college life and the natural progression of a young man's hormones.

One fateful day, while doing his laundry, you stumbled upon the torn black boxer in the trash. The fabric looked as if it had been stretched to its limits, the seams strained by the sheer power of the muscles beneath. You picked it up, examining the damage with a furrowed brow. "I don't need it anymore," Andrew had casually said when you asked him about it. "It doesn't fit anymore because of my muscles." You nodded, understanding his need for new clothes but feeling a twinge of disappointment that your thoughtful gift had been discarded so quickly.

But your thrifty nature wouldn't let you throw away something that could still be used. You took the boxer in your hands, turning it over to assess the damage. The tear was small, but it had clearly been under immense pressure. You decided to fix it, pulling out your sewing kit from the drawer and carefully threading the needle. With meticulous precision, you stitched the fabric back together, making sure that it would hold against the relentless growth of Andrew's body. After all, the boxer had cost you a pretty penny, and it was only right that it served its purpose for as long as possible.

The following morning, you stepped out of the shower, feeling the cool tiles against your bare feet. You grabbed the repaired black boxer, noticing how baggy it had become. It was almost comical, but you shrugged it off, sliding it on. You were about to leave for your shift at the restaurant when you felt a strange warmth envelop you, a heat that grew more intense with each passing second. The tremor started in your fingers, a gentle vibration that grew to a quake, rushing through your body. You stumbled backward, the world around you a blur, and fell onto your bed with a thud. Your body convulsed as if you were being electrified, muscles contracting and expanding without your consent.

On the other side of the house, Andrew stirred in his sleep, the tremor jolting him awake. "What the fuck is happening?" he whispered, his voice barely above a croak.

As you lay on the bed, the tremor grew stronger, your muscles stretching and swelling with an intensity that was both painful and exhilarating. You watched in awe as your biceps grew, the two heads bulging outwards to form the peak of power you had always envied in others. The veins on your forearms became more pronounced, the brachioradialis flexing with each involuntary contraction. Your triceps, once hidden beneath layers of flab, began to take shape, forming the horseshoe that signaled true upper body strength.

Your chest expanded, the pectoral muscles pushing against your skin, creating a broad, intimidating silhouette. The growth was not limited to your arms and torso; your back muscles, the lats, began to spread wider, pulling your shoulders back and giving you the illusion of a smaller waist. The deltoids grew round and firm, capping your shoulders and making them seem even broader from the side. Your traps, once unnoticed, started to thicken, lending a sense of power to your neck and upper back that you had never experienced before.

The tremor grew more intense as the muscles in your stomach contracted and expanded, sculpting your abs into a defined six-pack. The lines between each abdominal muscle grew deeper, your stomach becoming flatter, more chiseled. The transformation was not just in your upper body; your legs also began to bulk up. Your quads stretched the fabric of the black boxers, the muscles becoming more pronounced as they grew. The hamstrings on the back of your thighs started to take shape, balancing the powerful look of your legs and contributing to your newfound athletic appeal.

In stark contrast, Andrew's body began to experience the opposite transformation. As the night wore on, his muscles deflated, the power and definition that had once made him the envy of his peers slowly dissipating. His arms, once bulging with the promise of victory, grew leaner, the veins retreating beneath his skin. His chest, once a bastion of strength, flattened, the pectoral muscles shrinking back into obscurity. His back, which had once boasted an impressive 'wingspan', now appeared narrow, the lats retreating to leave a less defined silhouette. The cockiness in his stride was replaced with a tentative gait as the very essence of his athletic identity was siphoned away.

You watched the mirror, your newfound confidence surging through your veins like a potent drug. Each flex of your newly-honed biceps sent waves of pleasure through your body, a testament to your newfound power. The tremor had subsided, leaving you in the aftermath of your transformation. You felt alive in a way you hadn't since your youth, a fiery determination burning in your eyes as you surveyed the landscape of your new physique. Your mind raced with thoughts of dominance and conquest, a stark departure from the timidity that had once been your hallmark.

Andrew's transformation, however, was a mirror image of your own. The once towering pillar of strength was now a shell of his former self, his muscles retreating to reveal the soft, submissive boy you had met all those years ago. His shoulders slumped, his chest deflated, and his eyes held a quiet desperation that tugged at your heartstrings. The arrogance that had so recently consumed him was gone, replaced with a shyness that seemed to shrink him before your very eyes.

You felt the urge to reach out, to comfort him, but something held you back—something primal and unyielding. Your hand found its way to the bulge in your own black boxers, and you began to stroke yourself, the fabric now taut against your newfound size. It was as if the very essence of Andrew's vitality was being transferred to you, filling you with a power that was both intoxicating and slightly terrifying. Your cock grew harder, longer, and you couldn't resist the urge to take it in hand, to revel in the sensation of your newfound virility.

Hour after hour passed, your strokes becoming more vigorous as the transformation neared its peak. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you edged closer to climax. The room grew thick with the scent of musk and male power, a scent that seemed to fuel your desire. Your eyes remained locked on the mirror, watching as the last vestiges of your old self slipped away, replaced by the sculpted physique of a man in his prime. The tremors grew less frequent, your body now a finely-tuned instrument of power.

As you reached the precipice, you felt your cock pulse in your hand, swollen and heavy. With one final, desperate pull, you erupted, your cum shooting through the air in ropes of white-hot pleasure. The release was more intense than any you had experienced in your life, a testament to the changes the black boxers had wrought.

In the quiet that followed, the only sound was the slowing of your breath and the steady drip of cum onto the floor. Your body felt alive, charged with an energy that seemed to resonate through every fiber of your being. The tremors had ceased, and your transformation was complete. You looked down to see the once-baggy black boxers now stretched tightly over your massive thighs, the fabric clinging to your bulging muscles like a second skin.

Andrew's transformation had been swift and dramatic. His cock, once a symbol of his newfound virility, had shrunken back to a more modest size. The deflation was as sudden as the inflation had been, leaving him looking slightly lost amidst the sheets. His breath grew shallow and his eyes closed once more, his body succumbing to exhaustion from the ordeal. His sleep was deep, a stark contrast to the restlessness that had plagued him since the onset of his own transformation.

You, on the other hand, felt more alive than ever before. The tremors had subsided, leaving you with a body that was the embodiment of masculine power. You pushed yourself up from the bed, the mattress groaning under the weight of your newfound muscular frame. The black boxers that had once been baggy on you now clung to your body like a second skin, highlighting every bulging contour. You took a deep breath, feeling your newfound chest muscles expand, filling your lungs with confidence.

Walking over to the mirror, you couldn't help but admire the reflection staring back at you. The softness of your former body had been replaced with a sculpted physique that would make any bodybuilder proud. Each flex of your bicep sent a shiver of excitement down your spine, the peak of the muscle threatening to rip through the fabric. You turned to the side, admiring the 'V-taper' of your back, the lats spreading like wings that had been unfurled for the first time. Your shoulders looked broader, more defined, and your waist, once thick with age, had cinched in, giving you the appearance of a chiseled statue.

As you continued to flex, the reality of your new life as a professional bodybuilder sank in. The countless hours of training, the strict diet regimen, and the dedication to sculpting your body had paid off. You had always been proud of Andrew's academic achievements, his intelligence a stark contrast to your own physical prowess. The scholarship he had earned was a testament to his hard work and a relief to your wallet. Now, as you stood before the mirror, you felt a sense of pride in your own right, a pride that had been missing since you had last felt truly strong.

[hrtnovas]

NEW WLW BLOGG!! Now Imma help christen it by giving your 1st request!😂 You can definitely see from my profile pic that I am a huge Arlecchino simp.

Let's go with a childhood fem!reader who stayed with Arlecchino throughout her child to teen to adult years where Arlecchino becomes the 4th Harbinger after 'removing' Crucabena from play. Maybe they both developed feelings along the way? Or Arlecchino pines after reader but reader is very VERY oblivious despite the obvious sign from Arlecchino? Make this a smut!

​🇧​​🇴​​🇺​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇧​​🇾​ ​🇫​​🇦​​🇹​​🇪​

FIRST REQUEST?? THIS IS A 10/10 YOU COOKED WITH THIS.

also my first fic

the nsfw part is separated from the sfw part because I gen feel like it's easier for me this way ୨ৎ

cw ; NSFW, men & mdni, dom!arlecchino x shy oblivious sub childhood!reader, rushed sesbian sex, fingering, but so much fluff, slight angst???, friends to lovers, reader is kind of shy and a little bit clueless . .

word count ; 1,834 words ♡

ʚɞ

both dividers by @cafekitsune . . ୨ৎ

(you two are young teens in this scene.)

Arlecchino.

The two of you grew up together, went through everything together.

You saw her white hair and faded black streaks in the moonlight. She looked up at the moon restless in thought. She stared and stared, as if something would happen, there were flowers in her hand. She was lost in her thoughts, wondering about so much.

"There's something about her… something I can't look away from." She wasn’t sure what it was about you. Arlecchino thought, her eyes shifting quickly towards you. For just a moment, her gaze softened before she looked away. She wasn’t sure what it was about you. The way you offered a piece of cake when you two were together. Or maybe it was the times you both tried so hard to hide behind calm eyes and a resting expressions. She thought to herself, looking briefly at you. You were beside her, holding a flower of your own, completely unaware of the way her gaze softened for just a moment. You were also getting quite lost in your thoughts. You were pretty much zoned out.

Arlecchino's fingers brushed against the petals of the flowers in her hand. She didn’t make eye contact, but her voice cut through the silence like a blade. "You’re staring." Her voice was low, calm, but it carried a feeling that made your heart jump. She turned her head around to face you properly.

You snapped out of your thoughts. You didn't realize you were staring at her. "I didn’t mean to.." you stammered, clutching the flower tighter in your hand. You moved closer, unsure if you were about to apologize again or say nothing.

"D-don’t you think the moon looks beautiful tonight?" you blurted, your voice stuttered out. The words felt a bit rushed, a attempt to change the conversation anywhere but to look her gaze. Your eyes shifted to the vase by the window, hoping she wouldn’t notice the way your fingers tightened around the flower.

Arlecchino’s lips curled into a faint smile, her sharp eyes shining under the moonlight. "The moon?" she echoed, her tone unreadable. "You’ve been staring at me, and now you’re talking about the moon?"

Her fingers grazed the petals again, slower this time, as if lost in thought once again. Finally, her gaze shifted to the flowers in your hand. "You handpicked these yourself, didn’t you?" she asked, her voice quiet.

You glanced down at the flower, your grip tightening as a nervous laugh escaped you. "Y-yeah.. . I thought they looked nice." Her attention on the flowers made your face red, as if she could see right through you.

Her hand moved with purpose, brushing against yours as she plucked one of your flowers from your grasp. She moved closer to you.

"Stay still." she whispered. Her fingers brushed over your head as she swept a strand of hair out of your face, her touch was both gentle and firm. You held your breath ; unsure of what to do as she leaned in closer, the flower in her hand brushing against your skin.

She slid it into your hair with quick care, her hands grazing your cheek as she did so. The contact sent a small shiver down your spine, and your cheeks burned under her gaze.

"There." she said softly, though her voice was stoic, you could tell she was trying to be meaningful. And that made your heart race. Her lips curled into a faint smile as she moved back.

You fumbled for words, your voice barely above a whisper. “I.. thank you.” Your eyes darted away, too nervous to meet her gaze for long. But you could feel her watching you, her eyes lingering like a shadow under the moonlight.

And though, Arlecchino was now a figure of authority, her blank and stoic nature still a mask that still only few could see past. As time went on, you began to notice how she watched you, how her gaze lingered a little too long, the faint, almost unnoticeable smile that tugged at her lips when she caught you looking.

Yet, despite it all, you were oblivious.

To you, it was still the same Arlecchino, your childhood (best) friend, nothing more. You couldn't see the way she’d lean closer than necessary when speaking, the way her fingers brushed against yours with purpose or how her voice when she spoke to you, had softened, that made your heart beat as fast as ever.

You didn’t understand. You had no idea how close Arlecchino was to snapping, how close she was to revealing everything she’d kept hidden for years. She was. . patient, though. Waiting for you to see it, to understand the signs she was sending. But no matter how many times she leaned a little closer, brushed her fingers against yours, or let her gaze stare in a way that was anything but casual, you remained so damn oblivious.

She watched you laugh it off, the energy radiating from you as if the moment hadn’t never even shifted. Maybe it was because you didn’t know how to read her or maybe you didn’t want to.

After all, why would someone like Arlecchino be interested in someone like you?

It was the way you avoided her gaze this time that finally broke her patience. You could feel it, that heavy, unfeeling, presence she carried, the kind that lingered even when she wasn’t looking directly at you.

Tonight, though, it felt different, impossible to ignore. You shifted in your seat, fingers fidgeting with your coffee in your lap and looking at your papers as your eyes darted anywhere but toward her.

You always did this, pulled away the moment things started to feel too intimate, too feeling, too real.

When her words carried more weight or were more gentle than usual, or her actions felt. . careful in a way you couldn’t quite ignore, you would shy away, brushing it off as nothing. It was easier to pretend it didn’t mean anything.

But tonight, Arlecchino wasn’t going to let you slip away.

The scrape of her chair against the floor made your heart race. Your head snapped up, eyes meeting hers as she stood, her figure shadowed by the light. Each step she took toward you was slow and proper. Her stilettos clicked softly against the floor.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn't speak.

She stopped just in front of you, her presence overwhelming as she leaned down slightly, close enough that you could see the faint shadows under her eyes, the way her lips pressed together in quiet wanting. Then her hand lifted, hand holding your chin, lifting your face upward.

"Look at me." she said softly.

Her voice was quiet but firm, leaving no room for argument. You froze, glancing away, but her grip was steady, not forceful, just firm. You had no choice but to meet her gaze.

And in her eyes, you saw something that made your breath hitch.

It wasn’t the cold expression she wore around others, or the confidence you had come to expect. This was different. Her expression was. . gentle, soft in a way you’d never seen before, and the weight of it was almost too much to bear for your heart.

"I’ve waited long enough." she said, her tone low, but you could hear the frustration beneath it. And god, was it hot. "You’re not blind, ma chérie. my love You know what I want."

Your heart pounded against your chest, your mind scrambling for something to say, but no words came. All you could do was sit there, wide eyed and trembling, your face becoming flushed.

Her fingers brushed gently along your hair. For a moment, her features softened, the blankness in her gaze melting into something warmer. "I’ve.. been waiting for you to see me." she said, her voice quieter now, but no less insistent. "Tell me you feel it too."

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Your thoughts were a blur, tangled with emotions you hadn’t let yourself come to until now.

And then she leaned in.

It wasn’t rushed her movements were hesitated, giving you just enough time to stop her if you wanted to.

But you didn’t.

Her lips brushed against yours, soft and uncertain. When you didn’t pull away, her hesitation faded. The kiss deepened, careful but filled with everything she’d been holding back. One of her hands slid to you waist, holding you, while the world around you seemed to fade into the background.

Your cheeks burned, your breath caught in your throat, and your chest felt like it might burst. You could hear the frantic rhythm of your own heartbeat, and you were sure she could feel it too.

And for the first time, you realized ; maybe you hadn’t been as oblivious as you pretended to be.

nsfw utc

Arlecchino pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes dark, gazing into your own. "Are you sure you want us to do this?" she asked you, consent is key. ( and there is no other way it should be. ) She held onto your waist firmly.

You nodded, your words caught in your throat, but your actions spoke louder than anything you could say.

"I want to hear you say it. Say you want this, ma lumière." my light

You hesitated at first but, you knew you wanted this. You knew you wanted her.

"Arle.. I, I want you."

You could feel her fingers sliding inside you, you were so tight, so tense. You felt a bit nervous and were holding onto her just as she was holding onto you.

"Relax yourself. . your so tense." She mumbled. She had you on her waist, one of her hands gripping your waist tight and firm as if you were going to run away from her, her breath touching your neck, leaving love bites all over, her fingers soaked from how wet you were. Her fingers were pumping in and out of you, making you squirm and moan , it made you feel so damn filled up with every time they went inside of you.

"S-so m-much... -" "You can take it, it's alright, relax." She said, you were squeezing around her, begging to be fucked into. And the way she was fucking you? You loved it. The way your arms were wrapped around her neck, your lips releasing sweet noises, and the way Arlecchino was stretching your pussy open with her fingers.

"Are you enjoying yourself? Feeling good..?" She said, feeling your tight walls clench her fingers, you couldn't focus on anything else, just the fact she was making you feel so good.

"O-oh Arle.. mm- I'm going to . .- ! " "That's it dove. Let yourself go for me, go on."

"You're staring, dove. Something on my face..?" She asked you, you were panting for air, trying to calm down from your high.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

ugh i need this woman

[creatur3featur3]

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: implications of sex trafficking

A/N: i'll eventually draw a reference for reader's build since i aleady did for Sevika

enjoy my loves

Heavy, that’s what most things that filled Sevika’s mind reminded her of.

Heavy, like the damn boxes she had to carry from one place to the other for Silco- Heavy, like the knowledge of what was happening in the Undercity- Heavy, like her hooves clicking against the concrete paths.

Being a centaur was normal around these parts, well for the most part, it was seen as strange of course but no one spoke poorly of centaurs- to Sevika’s knowledge at least. She had seen a good bit of folks like her, just trying to live their lives, their body always being different from the next person’s. Some young kid could have half of a deer, while a full grown man could have half a bear. It was relatively normal, easy even, which did make Sevika tense to say the least.

She came to a stop outside the bar she usually came to, sighing softly as her hind legs shifted with unease, the muscles twitching here and there. She wasn’t sure why she was so on edge tonight, or any other night, it was just another game of cards or another drink from the bar. Nothing different, just a simple routine.

Good, the unexpected brought problems with it that Sevika really didn’t want to deal with tonight, or for the rest of her life that is- she was comfortable with her little world.

Sevika exhaled sharply through her nose, adjusting the weight of the crates stacked high in her arms before shoving the bar’s door open with her shoulder. The familiar musk of cheap liquor and sweat hit her like a wave, but it was a comfort rather than a deterrent. The place was dimly lit, full of bodies hunched over tables, exchanging coin and hushed murmurs. The usual crowd.

Her hooves clicked against the wooden floor as she made her way to the counter, the bartender giving her a nod before sliding her a drink without asking. Routine. Good. Predictable. She lifted the glass to her lips, the burn of alcohol cutting through the ever-present weight that pressed down on her.

She didn’t bother sitting; stools weren’t exactly built for her kind. Instead, she leaned against the bar, one arm braced against the counter while her tail flicked idly. The weight of eyes on her back was expected, but no one dared to stare too long. Sevika had a reputation, after all.

A sharp laugh broke through the general din of the bar, dragging Sevika’s attention to a table near the back. A game of cards was in full swing, and judging by the tense shoulders and clenched jaws, someone was losing, bad. She considered joining in. She had the coin to waste and a need for distraction but- something held her back.

Or well, the sight of someone.

Sevika’s eye fell on a smaller figure that sat near the table, though the way they sat, like their legs weren’t able to fully rest against the chair. She tried to focus through the haze of smoke, and then she finally saw it-

No, not it- she saw you.

You sat next to a burly man, who was laughing like he had heard the best joke in the world, your spindly little deer legs, one resting over the other– but you didn’t have the back two… just two front deer legs replacing what would’ve been your human legs- you looked uncomfortable, terribly uncomfortable. The way your eyes flickered around the bar like you were sure something would jump out at you, the way your long narrow ears twitched and flicked about- listening to everything. You sure as hell didn’t look like you wanted to be there, that much was clear.

“Alright you old lot!-“ the man you sat next to growled with a smirk, “Whichever of you fellas actually manage to beat me in this round, I’ll throw it my little dress up doll,” He finished, looking over at you with a smirk that screamed he was way to confident for own good. “Give ‘em a smile, pretty girl.” The man purred- your eyes flicked to the ground, ears pinning back before he gave you a forceful nudge.

You nervously looked up, flashed a quick smile and looked back away.

Sevika's eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening as she watched the scene unfold. Her instinct, the one she'd long learned to trust in the dark corners of places like this, surged. The situation reeked of discomfort, the kind of discomfort she knew well—familiar in its dread. But there was something about you, the way you held yourself, the way your eyes darted about the room with tension she could practically feel from where she stood. It was almost like you were trapped.

The man beside you—loud, obnoxious, full of himself—was clearly trying to have his way, and Sevika didn’t like it one bit. Her tail flicked sharply, agitated, her hooves shifting as she eyed him. The last thing someone like you needed was more attention from people like him.

A few of the patrons around the table laughed, clearly enjoying the spectacle. But Sevika, her muscles tensed and her mind calculating, didn't care about their amusement. She was more concerned about the fact that the man had gotten toocomfortable with the idea that you were a prize for his games, a pawn in his little act.

She exhaled through her nose, her large hands tightening around her drink before she set it down with a little too much force. The bartender shot her a look, but Sevika just gave a shrug. She could take care of herself, but sometimes, there was something about watching others suffer that made her blood boil in a way she couldn’t quite ignore.

Her hooves clicked louder as she approached, her presence undeniable, though she didn't move too quickly. It wasn't about making a scene—it was about making sure the right kind of attention was drawn. The game was still in motion, and Sevika was more than used to walking into places with a certain weight about her. Her reputation was solid—if anyone wanted to question her, they'd have to do it directly.

She stopped just short of the table, looming slightly over you, but not so close that you’d feel more boxed in. Her voice, when it came, was low, calm, yet cold enough to slice through the laughter.

"You might want to lay off," she said to the man with a slow, deliberate drawl. Her words hung in the air, the silence after them thick with something approaching menace. "You don't want to upset the wrong person tonight."

The man blinked, startled by the interruption, then grinned, though the edges of his smile faltered when he realized exactly who had spoken. Sevika’s reputation preceded her, and no one with even an ounce of common sense wanted to challenge her in situations like this.

"You think you can just come in here and—" The man started, but Sevika didn't let him finish. Her gaze snapped down to him, sharp and unwavering, the kind of stare that made most people take a half-step back.

"Try me," she said simply, her tail flicking behind her, her posture unyielding.

The man hesitated, his confidence shrinking, just a little. It wasn't fear that seeped into his expression—no, this was a game to him, and he'd just realized the stakes had changed.

"You're a real piece of work, aren’t you?" He sneered, but there was no real bite to it now.

Sevika didn’t say another word to him. Her eyes moved to you instead, softer now, a quiet understanding crossing her features. "You alright?" she asked, her voice gentler, though still heavy with the weight of her presence. Her tone was genuine, but there was an underlying command in her words. She wasn’t asking for the sake of politeness; she was asking because she-

No, Sevika didn't care, she wasn't supposed to care- you obviously couldn't stand for yourself let alone scare off the creeps that kept you like a little prize- she was just helping you out, simple as that.

Like feeding a stray dog on the street, just helping it survive another day. 

“Look Sevika, we're just having a little fun, she doesn't mine, really- don't you, Doll face?” the man sneered, giving you a light tap on the shoulder- you jumped slightly at the contact, skittish, Sevika noted.

“..No.. I don’t really mind…” you whisper, your voice was softer than Sevika has expected, her sharp pointed ears straining to hear you.

Sevika didn’t believe that for a second.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she looked down at you, watching the way your hands curled into fists on your lap, the way your shoulders hunched in on themselves. The way your eyes refused to meet hers. You were lying, but not in the way most people lied to save their pride. No, this was different. This was a quiet, careful kind of lie, one shaped by fear and necessity. The kind Sevika had seen too many times before.

Her gaze flicked back to the man, who was still smirking, all confidence and arrogance. He thought he had already won this little exchange. He thought she would back down because you weren’t fighting back yourself.

Sevika exhaled slowly, then, without a word, moved. Not fast, not aggressive, just enough. One large, scarred hand landed on the table between them with a dull thud, her fingers curling slightly as if testing the weight of the wood beneath them. The air shifted, thick with the unspoken promise of violence.

The man’s smirk wavered.

“Didn’t sound very convincing,” Sevika murmured, her voice low, even. “Maybe you didn’t hear her right.”

The man scoffed, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his expression now. “Come on, Sevika,” he tried again, laughter creeping back into his tone. “No need to get all tense. It’s just a bit of fun.”

Sevika tilted her head slightly, her dark eye gleaming under the dim bar lights. “That so?” she mused, fingers drumming once against the table. Her tail flicked sharply behind her, a small, subtle movement, but one that carried weight. “Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like she’s having any fun.”

Silence stretched between them. The other men at the table shifted uncomfortably, their own amusement curdling as the tension in the air became undeniable.

The man’s jaw tightened, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew pushing Sevika further wouldn’t end well for him. Slowly, he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright,” he drawled. “Didn’t know you were feeling all heroic tonight.”

Sevika didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she simply straightened up, her looming presence casting a long shadow over the table. “Didn’t know you were feeling so desperate you had to bet people like coin,” she shot back, voice still calm, still unreadable. But there was steel beneath the words, a warning that cut deeper than any raised fist ever could.

The man huffed out something between a laugh and a scoff, then turned back to his cards as if the entire interaction had been nothing more than an inconvenience. “Whatever. Just trying to liven up the game.”

Sevika didn’t acknowledge him again. Her focus was on you.

She motioned you to get up, her calloused and steady hand, her expression unreadable. “Come on,” she said, not unkindly, but firm. “Let’s go.”

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to—Sevika could see it in your eyes, the desperate, quiet yearning for an escape—but because you weren’t sure if you were allowed to. If stepping away was something you could actually do without consequence.

Sevika didn’t rush you. She just stood there, an immovable force against the chaos of the bar.

And then, finally, with a shaky breath, you reached out and took it.

The bar was still filled with murmurs and lingering stares as she led you away, but Sevika ignored them all. She didn’t let go of your hand until you were outside, the cool night air wrapping around the both of you like a much-needed relief.

You seemed to let out a sigh of relief when you stepped out of the bar, your ears relaxing and nub tail shaking. Your legs looked about 4x smaller than Sevika, hell- they probably were.

Sevika’s hooves clicked as she shifted her weight from hoof to hoof, tail flicking as she stared down at you. You glanced around the street, ears perked up, eyes surveying the area around you. You seemed more deer than human to her…

“Hey, Bambi,” Sevika spoke, catching your attention as you turned to look at her, “You should get going, doubt those men won’t leave you alone for long.”

Your face twisted in curious confusion, “But I thought..-“ you started

“I did you a favor, I got you out of there, now you do me the favor of getting out of here,” Sevika stated, muscular legs straining as she turned and started walking away- leaving you… alone.

Sevika’s ear shot up, catching the sound of quick soft steps, hooves- Sevika turned slightly to find you trailing after her.

Great, now she’s got a lost fawn following her around. Just what she needed.

Sevika's patience thinned as the sound of your quick, hesitant steps came from behind her. She knew what this was, what it meant: you didn’t know how to be alone, didn’t understand the value of independence. She could hear the shuffle of your hooves, the soft scuffle of your uneven gait, and it annoyed her—greatly.

Her tail flicked, like an irritated lash, as she continued her stride down the dark, narrow street. There was a cool breeze, but it did little to ease the simmering tension in her chest. She didn’t want to feel responsible for you. That wasn’t her thing. She wasn’t a hero. She was just a damn fixer, someone who made sure things didn’t get too out of hand, someone who didn’t care about anything or anyone outside of what was in her own sphere.

Still, the soft patter of your hooves grew closer. Damn it.

Sevika came to a sharp stop, and without warning, she snapped her front legs out, the powerful muscles in her quadrupedal form propelling them back to deliver a swift, sharp kick toward you. The motion was practiced, quick—designed to push you back, to show you that you needed to keep your distance.

It worked, albeit not as much as Sevika had hoped. Yes you had jumped back, not as far as she had wanted, your reaction much quicker than her action. 

“Back off,” she barked, her voice edged with frustration, though it wasn’t angry, just... resigned. "I didn't sign up for a damn pet project, okay?"

Her eyes narrowed, and her tail flicked again, the tip sharp and twitching as she turned slightly to look at you, her gaze firm and unyielding. It wasn’t pity, wasn’t kindness. It was just the harsh reality of what Sevika knew. You had to learn how to stand on your own. The world didn’t care about who you were, what you looked like, or how many legs you had. The world would swallow you whole if you didn’t fight back.

Sevika shifted on her hooves, the muscles in her back and legs tight as she stood, unmoving, waiting for you to either turn around and walk away or face the consequences of following her too closely.

She wasn’t here to take you in, to protect you. She was here to get away from that damn bar and the mess of that night. You were just a distraction. Just like the rest of them.

And yet, she couldn’t help but watch your face, the way you looked so lost. As if you didn’t know what to do next, unsure if her words meant anything. Sevika’s mouth twisted into a thin line. She didn’t care. She really didn’t, never had never would.

“Do you, know where food is…?” You finally asked, though, Sevika had to bend down a bit to even hear your voice.

“Sure, there's a butcher a few streets down,” Sevika said calmly. Your nose scrunched slightly at the mention of butchers, “I… don't eat meat.. can't, actually…”

Sevika paused, her brow furrowing at the unexpected response. She had already half-turned away, ready to keep walking, but your words stopped her. A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she shifted her weight from one hoof to the other, turning back toward you.

"You don’t eat meat?" she echoed, though it wasn't a judgment, just genuine curiosity. She hadn’t expected you to say that. Most people around here didn't have the luxury of being picky, let alone turning away from meat in a place like this. It was survival more than a choice for most. "Then what do you eat?"

You fidgeted, almost uncomfortable under her gaze. The dim light of the street lamps cast shadows across your face, and the vulnerability in your posture was hard to ignore. Your tail twitched nervously, and you seemed to shrink just a little, caught between wanting help and feeling ashamed for asking.

"I... I don't really know where to get vegetables, or... other things," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't really go out much."

Sevika studied you for a moment, something like understanding flickering beneath her usual tough exterior. You weren’t just some meek little thing to pity. You were a person with your own set of struggles, your own way of surviving in a world that clearly didn't care about anyone's comfort.

“Look, there’s a food stall over on the next block," Sevika said, her tone a little softer now, though still matter-of-fact. “They sell things like fruits, breads, and vegetables. Not great, but it'll fill you up if you’re starving.”

She didn’t wait for a response, turning her back to walk again, but her steps slowed slightly, her eyes glancing back toward you. You seemed almost hesitant to follow, like you weren't sure if you'd be accepted at all.

Sevika's lips pressed into a thin line as she exhaled sharply. She didn’t know what kind of mess you were in, but something told her you didn’t need to be left out here on your own, wandering the streets like a lost animal.

-

Sevika didn't know what she was doing here, she should be home, relaxing, getting ready for tomorrow, but here she was, stood next you as you carefully ate raspberries, your long legs almost touching the ground as you sat in the stool.

You nub tail flicked and wagged time to time, ears perking up here and there, just carefully listening. You seemed the most relaxed she had seen you the whole night just eating.

Sevika leaned against the counter, watching you with a strange sort of detachment. Her arms crossed over her chest as she stood there, eyeing the way you ate, your movements slow, deliberate. There was a certain calm in your posture now, like you weren’t so worried about the world falling in on you. You seemed small—small in a way that made Sevika feel like she had to force herself not to watch too closely. Not to care. She wasn’t in the habit of watching people unwind, especially not after she’d done a favor for someone.

But there you were, sitting on that stool with raspberries stained on your lips, your tail flicking like it had found some fleeting sense of comfort. You looked... normal. Like you weren’t constantly bracing for something bad to happen.

Sevika shifted her weight uncomfortably. The silence between you was filled only by the faint murmur of the stall's noises around you. People moving, talking, the clink of change. It should have felt mundane, but there was something about it that felt different tonight—like her world, the world of toughness and constant motion, was blurring a little.

She hadn’t meant to bring you here, hadn’t meant to stick around to watch you eat. But when you looked up at her between bites, those big doe eyes catching the dim light, she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

“Don’t go making a habit of getting that comfortable,��� Sevika finally spoke, her voice rougher than she intended. She didn’t know why she had to say something, but it felt like if she didn’t, she might just keep standing there until her feet fell asleep.

You blinked at her, chewing slowly, then offered a soft, tentative smile. It was one of those smiles that made Sevika wish she could shrug it off, but she couldn’t—because it was too... honest.

“Thanks,” you murmured, barely loud enough for her to hear over the background noise. “It’s nice to not feel... watched.”

Sevika’s jaw clenched for a moment before she relaxed it, her expression hard to read. She didn’t want to have to admit that there was something in your words that made her want to do more—something that scraped against the wall she’d spent so long building around herself.

“It’s nothing,” she said, her voice softening against her will. “Just don’t go around getting yourself into trouble, alright? I’m not always gonna be here to pull you out.”

You nodded quietly, but Sevika noticed how your shoulders lowered a little, how the tension seemed to slip away from you, piece by piece, with each bite you took. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her—why her mind kept drifting back to the way you looked so unguarded now, so small, so… human, in the best and worst ways.

She shifted uncomfortably again, eyes flicking to the door as if the action might ground her in the reality that this wasn’t her business.

And yet, she stayed.

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

Never Again

Summary: On a cold night, she was working late at the post office when it was robbed by three young men around her age triggering memories of her past as she was taken hostage.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: smut (p in v sex, fingering, cock warming), robbery, threats of violence, threats with a gun, panic attacks, mentions of noncon, MINORS DNI, 18+

Tag: @thought--bubble

Word Count: 4.4k

Author’s Note: I am so so happy I finally got a chance to watch this short film. Immediately when the robbery happened and a hostage was taken my brain was turning with fic ideas. This is a bit darker than what I usually write, but it was a nice change of pace. I got too into this. I have an idea for a part two/sequel if there is interest.  Enjoy the angst!

She had made a promise to herself it would never happen again. 

In the mirror, before she left each day for therapy she swore it. 

Never again. 

How many times had she told herself those two words?

It had been seven months since the incident. 

Five months since she let her nan talk her into therapy. 

She was not okay. 

She would never be okay again. 

She tried to control her breathing. The heaviness in her chest was too much. It felt like she would never be able to get enough air. Her eyes squinted in frustration. She began to sob. 

She wasn’t scared though. 

Never again, she had told herself so many times. And yet here she was. 

Here it was happening again. 

Happening to her. 

Seven months ago it had been her job at a corner shop, a knife at her throat as he demanded the druggist give him a certain supply of narcotics. 

Tonight it had been at her job, her first job since the incident, at the post office, a gun to her face, cold and heavy, as three men demanded money. 

Money. 

Drugs. 

It never mattered to her. 

Seven months ago she was afraid. 

Tonight she felt betrayed. 

Betrayed by herself for not doing what she had promised she would if this rare occurrence ever happened to her again. She had pepper spray. It wasn’t on her. It was in her purse, safely in her locker in the break area. She had frozen, unable to move unlike her promise to scream and fight back no matter the weapon. 

The gun had felt so heavy against her soft cheek. 

Her eyes even betrayed her. She teared up when she realized it was happening to her again. 

The rest of the employees were no help. 

It was her first night on the closing shift. She felt a bit vulnerable as she didn’t know much about closing up. There were three of them, her manager and another older woman who had worked there for twenty five years. They had all been nice to her. Everyone had been very understanding when she flinched when a customer spoke to her too loudly or when she ate her paper bag lunches alone, refusing invitations from her co-workers to go out on break. 

She was a bundle of nerves about to be broken. 

He had held her tight as another robber in a ski mask pressed the gun to her cheek pushing it against her molars. Her body had trembled uncontrollably, not able to hear much of anything from the other two robbers. The young man had held onto her as if she was a lifeline, but there was a slight tremble to him. 

He was scared. 

While she was frustrated, he was scared. 

The man with the knife had been sure and steady as if he had done this so many times before. 

These robbers were loose, shaky even. 

If she had done what her mind was screaming for her to do she would have been able to overpower him, but her body froze. 

Her body had betrayed her very mind. 

Now she had her hands bound in cheap frayed ropes listening to the three men arguing outside near the back end of the car. 

No. 

Not men. 

Boys. 

Three boys. 

Their voices sounded young as if they were about her age. One boy she heard sobbing harder than she had ever heard any boy ever sob. They were occasionally talking about what to do with her. It was almost as if they were confused as to why she was there. Her shoulders trembled in her tight olive green turtleneck. Her entire body felt tight. She attempted to control her breathing focusing on exercises she had learned in therapy. 

Five things she could see. 

That could help ground her. 

Fuck if she could see anything. Her eyes were so blurry with tears. Her mind was so overwhelmed with survival she could barely recognize her senses. 

She tried her best to concentrate. To remember how to ground herself and ease her panic. 

“I GRABBED THE GIRL! YOU FUCKIN TOLD ME TO GRAB HER!”

The words made her flinch as if reliving the moment again. 

Five things she could see. 

She dared to turn around.

Scared little boys in over their heads. 

Gloves clinging to sweaty hands. 

A face mask loosely hanging off a scalp. 

A gun. 

She averted her eyes. She leaned back against the seat deciding that this method was not going to work at this moment. Certainly if she had to listen to them argue. If she did, she felt like she might hear something she didn’t want to hear. 

Something about what they would do with the money. 

About what they would do to her. 

They were her age. 

There was something terrifying about that. The man with the knife only wanted drugs, to get high as quickly as possible. He had been older and focused. These lads were young, unfocused and . . . she tried not to think about what they might want by taking her. 

The one in the middle, the boy crying, kept going on about his mum. 

What did he have to cry about? 

She was the one who was kidnapped. 

Tied up in a stranger’s car for God knows what reason. 

They were the aggressors. 

They had the power. 

Fuckin’ crybaby.

She was surprised to see through her own tears. Surprised to hear as her heart was pounding in her ears. Through the thudding she could hear the one comforting the crying boy. She turned around. He was holding him so tightly she knew they were close. These were all friends that did a stupid, stupid thing. The crybaby was regretting it. The one in the ski mask was trying to gain control of the situation unraveling before him. 

He must have been the leader, the planner in all this. 

As the dynamics emerged in front of her she was realizing how little control they all had with each other. This had been a sloppy plan for quick cash. 

Desperate people often did horrible things and for the first time in the long few minutes or hour she felt a pang of fear. Her heart thudded. She wished she could hold her chest to feel it. She needed to feel something, but all she could do was feel the hot wet tears stream down her face and the heaviness that ballooned in her chest. 

“FUCKIN’ LEAVE!”

Her eyes widened seeing that the crying boy was taking off running. The ski mask boy with the gun seemed to have pushed him off. She closed her eyes letting her shaky hands settle on her black dress pants. Her eyes fluttered up to turn around again. The other boy made eye contact with her. He had a round face and dark hair. His expression spoke volumes, of fear and anger and confusion.

His eyes darted. 

Please don’t leave me, she thought. If he left the one with the gun would be the only one left. 

He ran, tumbling forward before disappearing in the dark. 

She breathed out waiting for him to turn around. To look at her. Instead he shook his head and headed to pass her door. She panicked looking forward, realizing he would be sitting in front of her. 

She flinched as he entered, the car dinging to indicate his door opening. 

Her breath was too hurried. 

Her teary hiccups were too loud. 

She didn’t know why, but she said her name. Introduced herself. She read somewhere if your captors saw you as a person they would be less likely to kill you.

“I live with my nan and my little brother and sister. They are eight and nine. I just started working at the post office nine days ago. Not even two weeks. I needed the money. Nan isn’t doing well and I . . . my parents . . . they’re shit. And she’s been so kind to take us in and . . .” She couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward to let the tears fall in big drops from her eyes. 

She choked.

She sobbed. 

She heaved. 

“Stop fuckin’ crying.” He said it softly with a sigh. She couldn’t stop. She fuckin hated herself for not being able to stop. She couldn’t catch her breath. Her ears were her heartbeat. Her hands were shaking. “Would you shut the fuck up?!” 

He snapped his head back. 

She saw his angry blue eyes. 

She sniffled. Her mouth quivered, giving small gasps as she sucked in her breath. 

His eyes settled into sadness and worry. 

“I ain’t gonna hurt you.” It sounded serious. “I swear I’m not going to hurt you. Alright?” 

She swallowed, nodding her head. She tried to blink away her tears. She watched his hand with the gun. 

“You live with your nan?” He said with a deep sigh. She saw his squinting blue eyes in the rear view mirror. 

“Yes.” She said simply trying to not start crying again. 

“How sick is she?” His voice almost seemed concerned. 

“Not sick. Not doing well. She had a bad fall this past summer tending her garden.” 

She remembered getting the call when her mum had been too hung over or drunk to bother to answer the phone. She had been the one to take her little siblings to visit Nan in the hospital. She knew then that she’d need taking care of. She was all too eager to get out of the town that now frightened her with an alcoholic mum and a job she could never go back to. 

Nan had been their savior. 

In a way so had that fall. 

“She on the mend?” 

“She’s got a good amount of screws in her hip, but yeah, she’s doing better. Never be fully healed though. It was a bad fall and she was alone.” She swallowed hard watching as he rubbed the barrel of the gun against his forehead. 

“Your parents? You said they’re shit.” 

“Yeah, mum’s an alcoholic and da . . . well . . . he’s on drugs some days, in prison other days.” She couldn’t remember the last time she saw her dad. She figured he had been around to at least conceive her little sister, so maybe eight years ago. They all looked identical so she thought they were all full siblings. 

“Yeah, my mum . . . she was . . .well . . .and I live with my nan. She’s unwell.” 

Her eyes flickered up at his confusion. 

Common ground was good. 

It gave her a better chance at survival. 

“Am I doing something wrong?” He sucked in a bit of a breath. “I don’t even know what I’m fuckin’ doing half the time.” He looked at her in the mirror. Her face fell a bit at the realization she had said something similar in therapy only two days ago. He rubbed his finger against his  forehead, latex gloves squeaking a bit. “No matter what I fuckin do . . . I  . . . I just . . .I just hope I make her proud.” He stared off in the distance. 

She didn’t know what to say. 

Didn’t know what to say to herself when she had questioned her own life in this way. 

“Nobody is going to give you what you need.” She swallowed. “You can’t hope for other people’s feelings to be what you want. You can’t control other people. You can only control yourself, your actions.” 

He peered at her in the mirror again, a lilt of his head tipped to the side. 

“Sounds like something a therapist would say.” 

“Doesn’t it?” She gave a weak reassuring smile. “I’ve thought about the same thing. I try to do what’s best for my brother and sister, but I always feel like everything I do will make them just as fucked up as my mum and da made me.” Her heart was beating for a different reason now. 

She hadn’t even said this to her therapist. 

She just focused on the incident, her fear of losing control of any given situation. 

She never mentioned how badly she wanted her siblings to have a normal childhood. 

“All kids end up fucked up anyway.” He scoffed. “Just make some good memories for them. Ice cream and snow ball fights. Summer in a field of dandelions. Those kinds of memories that can chase away the shit ones.” Those were oddly specific memories. She wondered if those were shared with the mum he had mentioned earlier. 

“My . . . um . . .mate . . . I slept with his girl.” He gave a big gulp after confessing it. “Yeah . . . um . . . a couple months ago. We were hanging out just the two of us. Met for drinks and . . . yeah . . . I thought she might, you know . . . like me I suppose, but I don’t think it meant anything to her.” He sniffed in. His palm rubbed into his eyes. “Fuck. Shit.” He was frustrated at the tears in his eyes. 

“Why’d you do it?” She wondered, trying to keep him engaged. Happy even. The gun was still in his hand. 

She half expected him to give a non answer. 

“Wanted to feel something.” He shrugged as if it were obvious. “I saw how much she cared about him. How much she loved him and . . . I guess . . . I wanted that. Needed that.” Their eyes met. “I’m a fuckin awful human.” 

“Oxymoron. All humans are awful. One way or another.” It was a sad statement. A sad world view she had. 

“I’m not really helping the image of humankind am I?” 

She had to laugh at that. 

He even smiled, high cheekbones looking beautiful in the moonlight. 

“She’s pregnant.”  It was abrupt as if he was letting it fall from his mouth. “My mate’s girl and . . . I don’t know . . . it might be mine. It could be, but I can’t say nothin’. Might end up having a kid out there and I’ll never . . . I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.” His eyes, soft and blue, shot behind him. His body fully turned. “I should let you go.” 

It’s a realization she felt herself unsure for. 

She doesn't know what will happen to her after she leaves this car. 

Doesn’t know what she wanted. 

She heard him open the driver’s side door. Out the window she could see him tuck the gun in the waistband at the back of his pants. He looked at her. 

Really looked at her. 

The tears were still there, staining her cheeks, traces of makeup running. It was as if he was realizing for the first time the damage he had done. His face widened with concern and confusion. It was as if he was wondering how he could do this. 

She saw him too. The confusion etched in his face told her he didn’t mean what he did. At least what he did to her. His eyes were so wide, so blue, so very lost. She swallowed, letting herself hope. She hoped to be free. She hoped to not die. She hoped that she could feel something other than frustration or terror or fear. 

He ran a gloved hand through his hair tussling it a bit. 

Her body, her stupid body, reacted with a tremor of longing. 

How long had it been since she had found someone attractive? 

Since she had been with someone? 

She swallowed again, deciding to squint her eyes closed, especially when the door opened. The cool air hit her. The hinge of the door bounced a bit. She heard him sniffle, but her eyes were closed so tightly because she feared what her stupid body would do if she looked at him again. 

“Yeah, okay, your hands.” He said as he reached down. 

He thought she wasn't running off into the dark because her hands were still tied. She felt him then. He was close to her, pulling at the ropes. The blonde young man loosened them rather easily. She could feel his fingers against her wrist, smooth with the plastic white gloves pulling at the frayed coarse ropes. She winced a bit. 

“Almost there, love.” 

She felt herself open her eyes. He was looking down, unraveling the ropes. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears, a different set of thuds. She was not fearful or frustrated. His words had eased her in a way, made her realize just how lonely he was. How much they had in common despite how very opposite their situations were.

“There.” he tossed the ropes to the floor of the back seat. “Off you go then.” He was about to step aside, pull back from her to fulfill his promise. 

Her arms were now free to do as they pleased. 

She wrapped her arms around her captor’s neck and pulled him down on top of her. Her lips took his in a quick meeting of chapped lips against his soft cupid’s bow. 

“The fuck?!” He pushed off of her looking for a moment. 

She didn't know what he saw that made his eyes fall back to her lips, plush and pinkened. 

Perhaps it was her desperation to feel something. 

Or maybe it was the way her chest heaved against her tight olive turtleneck. She knew it made her tits look great. Maybe he could see the outline of her black bra.

Maybe it was a realization of what that quick kiss meant. 

Whatever the reason, it didn't matter. 

He was on top of her kissing her back with a hungry unknown need. His mouth opened for her. It invited her to tangle with his tongue and possess him, body and soul. He held her face making slight little mmmms. She rewarded him with little needy whimpers. His knees fit snugly on the back seat caging her in. He didn’t let his lips leave hers as he shrugged off his coat in frustration, tossing it to the floor. 

She could feel his chest press against hers nearly crushing her as he struggled to get as close to her as he physically could. She didn’t mind it. The feel of his weight was satisfying. She wanted him closer too. Her hands were in his floppy blonde hair pulling and caressing all at once. It made him harden. She could feel his hardening cock against her as he humped her uncontrollably. 

One of his greedy large hands snaked down between her legs. He palmed her mound. She felt heat rise in embarrassment as she had very clearly seeped her arousal through her work pants. She felt him smile against her lips giving a very pleased noise in the back of his throat. His fingers unbuttoned her trousers in one go as his lips and tongue made her wetter with longing kisses. His fingers ran along her cotton panties finding the trail of wetness.

When his thumb grazed her thigh she was made aware of the plastic gloves. That was when she found her voice. 

“Take off the gloves.” She was not one to be making demands, but she needed to feel his skin.

He was clearly frustrated that she had slipped away from their perpetual kisses to voice her request, but he kissed her chin and nodded. 

“ ‘Course.” It was somewhere between a moan and a mumble. 

He pulled off one glove at a time before continuing to both kiss her and find her sweet tight cunt. Before she could take a deep breath in preparation, her panties were down to her knees. He ran his fingers over her bare slit, stroking her lovingly. She moaned out her desire. 

“You need this as much as me, don’t you?” He asked, finally breaking to look into her eyes. There was an edge of wetness under his eyes. Tears that were so very happy to feel something good. 

“More, maybe.” Was her quick response. 

He gave her a soft kiss that read sweet even though there was a gun in his waistband and fingers teasing her wanting pussy. He sank a finger inside her as he began to make out with her again. The noise she made was one of uncontrollable lust. He let her lips go to hear it. Hear all the noises she made as he pumped one finger into her before adding another without warning. His lips moved to kiss and suckle at the softness of her neck smelling her perfume, notes of musk and pear.

His gentle rhythm made her whimpers soft and palpable. Her eyes fluttered and nearly rolled at the feeling. When he curled those fingers it was when her hands found his shoulder and hair for support. She felt like she was going to lose herself as he quickened his pace. Her words were of approval, a series of yeses and mores and pleases. She could feel his prideful smile against her neck which quickly turned sour as she felt his cock straining against his trousers. Her inner walls were clenching around his fingers. 

He pulled them out without warning. 

“No, wait, please.” She felt like a needy little child, opening and closing her hands on his shoulder and in his hair. 

“I need to fuck you.” 

He pushed up so he was on his knees looking at her. He took off his belt. It ended up on the floor, but so did the gun. He eyed it for a moment. He was too pent up to care and so was she. His fingers were so slippery with her arousal that it made him struggle to unbutton his pants. She sat up slightly assisting in the button and zipper. When she looked up she saw he was watching her. 

He saw her again. 

His hand palmed her cheek. 

The same cheek he had pressed a gun to an hour or so before. 

“You are so beautiful.” She didn’t know if he meant it. 

What was beauty? 

Was it the fact that she is physically attractive to him? 

No. He hadn’t said it like that. 

More than likely it was how she responded to him. How she reacted. The words she said. How they realized that they just both wanted to do something different. 

Be someone different. 

To make the people they loved proud of them. 

She was beautiful because she could feel so much in the span of an hour. 

His fingers played with her wettened cheek, soft and tender with tears. She didn’t mind it. She didn’t mind him. He was looking down at her as if memorizing this moment. Her face was soft and gentle despite everything. Her eyes and his were the same, blown black with lust and primal hunger. 

She nodded.

She knew.

He was so very hard. 

She could see the bulge, prominent and nearly angry in his boxers. 

He trailed his hand from her cheek, down her neck, and to her breast. He gave her a healthy squeeze there. He moaned louder than her. It was at that, when he released himself. His cock was decently sized with a ruddy red tip glistening with precum. He held it tracing it along her slit. He found her clit and rubbed his tip on it in slow gentle circles.

“My name is Will.” He said in a seductive whisper. He leaned forward to share the rest of his desire. “You’ll say it when I fuck you.” 

His lips and teeth were on her neck as he pushed inside her. The stretch was agonizing for only a small second. It had been so long since anyone had been inside her. Her vibrators weren’t as girthy as Will’s cock. 

“Will . . .” She murmured as he bottomed out inside her. “Will.” She wanted to be good, fulfill his desire. What the fuck is wrong with me? She thought for a small moment, but the pleasure erased any wrong feelings she felt about fucking the boy who kidnapped, held a gun to her head, made her experience trauma. 

“That’s right. You’ll remember me. This cock. You’ll remember it.” 

Will eased slowly. It was different then the rutting desire she had felt moments ago. His mouth was buried in the crook of her neck. He gave her deep steady strokes at first. All the way out then a thrust back in. It was a pace that made her aware of how good he felt inside her, dragging along her walls. She felt all of him moving, thrusting, grunting, and panting. She altered holding his neck to his shoulders for support. 

The only warning she received indicating he would start pounding into her was a soft look. Their eyes connected. He breathed in and out harshly, fully inside her, then began shallow thrusts. Her only response was to nod in agreement. 

She wanted him to fuck her hard. 

He started pounding into her relentlessly. His hips snapped onto her at a rate that made her body quiver. Her moans were audibly loud. She couldn’t remember what she should be doing with her hands. She settled for gripping his shoulders. He was grunting and pushing against her thighs spreading them wide to get in deep. His angle inside her kissed her sweet spot. 

“Will! Oh my god! Yes!” Her hips struggled to meet his because he was pounding her hard into the back seat almost making her bounce back. “Will. Will. Will. Will.” She knew he liked that. His cock was twitching inside her. 

“Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna cum.” He pulled out as her walls spasmed around his cock. 

He spilled himself half on her thigh and half on the mound of her cunt. Her back arched. Her eyes screwed shut as her pussy clenched around nothing. She felt a thumb. His thumb rubbed tight circles around her clit. 

“There you go, baby girl. I got you.” She whimpered letting fresh tears roll down her face as she orgasmed. “There it is.”

Her chest heaved. She barely had enough time to catch her breath when he slipped his softened cock back inside her. He pressed his body on top of her letting her feel his weight. She was a bit taken aback at first when she realized what he was doing. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling him inside her, safe and warm. 

“Just,” He swallowed and kissed her tears spurred on from her orgasm. “Stay with me a little longer.” He had no room to make demands. “Please.” He was nestled inside her and on top of her, holding her again as close as he could. 

She could feel his breath. 

She could feel his heart, steady and lazy. 

She could smell his scent, salty cum, sweaty heat, and a tingle of aftershave at his chin which now rested between her covered cleavage. 

Her fingers pet against his hair. 

Never again, she remembered. Never again did she want to feel helpless or the loss of control. 

Never again did she want to feel alone. 

She knew now she could never make that promise. 

A new one floated in her mind. 

“I want you.” She knew it was what Will needed to hear, but it is a whispered secret, a shameful truth. For him and herself. “Over and over again.” 

They needed to be needed. 

At this moment they needed each other.

[ally1uvsu]

Life was a willow, and it bent right to your wind. / Choi su-bong (Thanos) x Nam-gyu.

⨉⠀⠀─⠀⠀Series .⠀›⠀Trans Namgyu Week 2025⠀‎ꪆৎ day 1; gentle sex/praise

·⠀warnings info⠀· NSFW — . wc; 8.7k (good luck)

summary; Thanos’ life was boring, etiquette, classes, politics, as the heir of the throne his routine was the same for almost twenty one years. Never once had he considered marriage until his father had the idea to set him up with the princess of a nearby kingdom for an alliance. But maybe it wasn’t so bad after all when he got to know her brother, that intrigued him more than anything.

info; Ooc Thanos (DEFO), Alternative Universe - Kingdom, he's slightly more depressed but still a druggie, But tbh I think thats how he acts when sober, Formal language used, But they all (young ones) know how to use improper language, Namgyu is Mi-na's adoptive brother, trans namgyu, Trans Male Character, Love at First Sight, Semi-Public Sex, Mina and Thanos r lowk besties, Eventual Smut, pure filth, Mina is the #1 thagyu shipper, Penis In Vagina Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Dirty Talk, It's sweet tho, Praise, Bottom Namgyu, Top Thanos, Love Bites, Smoking, Mentions of drugs, Sex on a treehouse while it rains, Missionary Position, Cunnilingus, Cum Eating, Creampie, Hair-pulling, Vaginal Fingering, slightly pathetic Thanos, but he's also way more pathetic during sex, Begging because we love pathetic men, Softdom Thanos, Thanos Is Whipped, They're both lowk soft in this, Thanos POV, This is probably more of a sober Thanos char study, But still filthy imo, Thanos has grey-blue eyes ide what y'all say, Gentle Sex, Scars, Unsafe Sex, They're so stupid bro they're going to get pregnant, Sober thagyu!!!

notes; I recommend you all listen to willow (by taylor swift) while reading this ngl, it’s a vibe 🙏🙏 but gen, I hope y’all like this cuz I poured my soul into it 😭😭 also this is a little series I posted on ao3 and decided to post here!! Feel free to check it either here or there, it’s the same nametag<3

Learn about politics, carry on with your duties, listen to your father and mother lecture you, worry about ruling a kingdom, learning proper etiquette.. that was all part of Thanos' day.

To be fair, he didn't care anymore. He was burnt out, practically dragging himself to his duties, the only reason he did so was because he was high most of the time.

It was no wonder the young Prince began acting like such a rebel. His parents were pissed, sure. But did Thanos care? No.

Hell, he became as rebellious as he could. Dying his hair purple, acting all quirky and showing/expressing how he felt out loud, smoking, drinking.. and not even going by su-bong anymore.

His family didn't have a choice, though. Being an only child meant Thanos one way or another would inherit the throne, he would become a king someday and would have to watch over his people.

With a queen. That, speaking of which, his father has been looking for insanely. Thanos didn't get the fuzz of it, he didn't want to get it, no, not at all. It wasn't that Thanos didn't like women, quite frankly, he liked both as long as they fit his standards that weren't that high either.

The poor man just didn't want to be added into another pile of troubles, moreover of marrying a woman he didn't even know for business. But Thanos didn't have a choice, even if he was destined for the throne, his father was still the king and made the choices.

So, his father did the most logical thing ever, arrange a royal dinner for him to meet up with his future wife.

This was boring, he thought as he walked past the numerous doors in the castle. Head casted low and jaw set in slight frustration, it was around afternoon. He had to get ready soon, but God help him, Thanos didn't have the slightest bit of motivation.

But either way, he still went inside his room where the servants waited. They dressed him in one of his finest suits, expensive pieces of clothing that albeit expensive and fancy were nothing short of unnecessary.

They fixed his hair, not in a way Thanos normally wore but in a more neat way, it shouldn't have bothered Thanos as much as it did but hell, he preferred the way he messily adjusted his hair better.

And finally, lastly, he sprayed on some expensive cologne. It was one of the smells he didn't find repugnant, most of the overly priced perfumes the royal palace was packed with gave him a huge headache. This one was his favorite one, neutral and yet perceptible. Not too sweet, not too bland.

The sun casted golden lights throughout the floor of his bedroom, and the servants slowly but surely retreated, Thanos didn't even had to ask twice. Growing up for twenty years in the same room and same place with the same people- well, the ones that didn't get fired, at least. Made most of the servants know Thanos liked to be alone at times like this.

Getting out of the fixation he had with his eyes locked to a point on the wall, Thanos began rummaging through one of his drawers, the drawer of the nightstand that was kept right next to his bed.

Pulling a string at the very bottom of the drawer, he lifted it to find a hidden counterpart where he mostly kept a few drugs he managed to sneak into the castle. But today, since he couldn't really get high, he reached for the cigarette pack instead.

Alongside that, he grabbed a lighter. Feeling the familiar weight of it right on his back pocket, maybe he could take a smoke before dinner, the smell of it would just be masked by the ungodly amount of alcohol they'd be serving for the banquet.

So, instead of staying in the balcony where his father or mother were more prone to find him, Thanos walked out of his room.

Step by step, his chest grew heavier. He didn't want to do this, his parents couldn't care less about how he felt, it had been like this ever since he turned sixteen.

His fingers itched, maybe to cut into the already scarred skin he grew to be familiar with overtime. But instead, he dug his nails into his palms, the familiar stinging sensation bringing a weird sense of comfort to his heart, that felt somewhat lighter.

He snuck through the back door, footsteps as light as he could manage to get them in these shoes. He was greeted by a warm breeze, and the sight of all the trees that were planted in the back of the castle, which led to a small clearing.

He hadn't gone there since.. fuck, since he was eighteen. He remembered exactly all too well how and why he never went there anymore.

-

"Hey! Come on, don't be a slowpoke." A familiar voice rang onto his ears, and then he remembered another girl running towards the same clearing. She was a peasant, daughter of one of the servants in the palace.

His feet were moving as fast as they could manage to, lungs hurting and heart thumping oh so loudly in his ears, Thanos once again felt like he was fifteen and hopelessly in love with the girl.

He giggled, and as they ran through the trees of the clearing behind the castle, they stumbled upon a treehouse. It was a little old, sure, but it could manage.

They made memories in there, year after year, every spring until towards the very end of summer, Thanos and her would be meeting in that same treehouse.

It became his safe space, one he never would expect to become such a hollow place in his heart.

And yet, it did.

One certain morning, Thanos was up and about the castle, looking for her. Nearing the entrance of the palace where she normally stayed to read, he froze as he found her and her mother departing from the palace, bags in hands. She looked over her shoulder, sadness and perhaps even sorrow etched into her features.

Thanos wanted to reach out, to run and grasp her, to make her stay, tell her everything he always wanted to tell her.

But a familiar pair of arms that always made him feel sick to his stomach held him back. 'I don't want a son of mines to be involved with someone out of royalty.' His father said, and ever since then, the little joy Thanos had in his life was just dull. Thanos never went back to that clearing that they claimed as theirs ever again.

Before he even realized, his feet were planted right outside of that same treehouse. Thanos let out a shaky breath, looking down at his feet as if he could still hear and imagine all too well their giggles of joy.

-

Before he could second guess himself, Thanos was climbing up the old ladder carefully. Situating himself nearby the door, leaning against it as he closed his eyes. A long sigh left him as his now half-lidded eyes looked inside the treehouse.

Thanos had no strength whatsoever to look inside, he'd feel more drained than ever if he did. So he decided to just take a smoke before the sun dipped below the horizon, knowing it would be time to leave for that godforsaken banquet when it did.

He reached for a single cigarette, fingers dabbing the edge of the lighter until it turned on, then, he placed the butt of the cigarette against the flame. Watching it catch fire, and then the lighter was back in his pocket.

He brought the cigarette to his mouth, head falling against the edge of the entrance of that treehouse. Taking a long drag, he could feel the smoke everywhere, soothing and relaxing his brain as he closed his eyes.

His fingers then reached for the stick, pulling it out of his lips as he puffed the smoke out.

He wished this was different, he thought. Maybe in another universe he'd be just another peasant, in another universe he wouldn't have to worry about the lives of people in a kingdom, and most importantly- he could love whoever the fuck he wanted.

Again, Thanos was lost in that loophole of thoughts. Only truly snapping out of it when he felt a burn against his skin, earning a hiss from him. He looked at the butt of the cigarette who had accidentally pressed itself against his skin, and then he noticed it left a little mark on his sleeve. Whatever.

He threw the cigarette somewhere inside the treehouse, deciding it was maybe time to go back inside.

He followed the same familiar way, purposely taking longer than he usually did. Basically dragging his feet as he walked towards the dining room.

He dreaded that place, he hated everyone in there. And he hated the girl that was possibly going to be his future wife.

His parents looked frantic as they finally spotted him, Thanos had to hold back a scowl. "— oh Jesus, where were you?! We were so worried you wouldn't show up, what even took you that long?" His mother said as she searched his face, Thanos only forced out a small smile.

"You made the right choice in coming, we all know that." His father said, voice in a low tone and authoritative as always. He looked at Thanos up and down, and then landed on the cigarette burn on his sleeve. His mother did the same, and she gasped.

"Su-bong! Were you smoking again? Aish, you know you have to be perfect! How will the lady take a liking to you like this?!" The woman said as she swatted on his sleeve, attempting to undo the harm caused to the fabric.

"Mom, it'll be fine— I.. I'll make sure to get along with her, okay?" Thanos shook his head, throat forming in a lump as he forced out a smile.

Surprisingly, his mom bought it. And he was met with her proud and bright smile as she beamed, exclaiming praises to him like her words many times were the exact opposite.

Their attention was dragged to the signals of the guards, a sign that the other family of royals had finally arrived. Thanos took a deep breath, controlling the urge to itch and scratch at his skin since he didn't have anything else.

A forced polite smile found its way to his lips as people began to flood inside the palace, face after face that Thanos didn't even bother memorizing, after all he was only here because of the princess he was supposed to marry.

And then, lastly, after so many unimportant people, came the princess and her family. Thanos caught the eye of a young man that intrigued him, wearing a navy suit and rushing past the doors not bothering with formality, maybe he was just forced to be here.

Thanos politely bowed before Mi-na, taking her hand and pressing her knuckles to his lips. She smiled at him, but between them, it all felt too fake. And despite only knowing each other for seconds, she seemed to know it, too.

"It is a pleasure to see you here, my lady." Thanos said as smoothly and gently as he could as he straightened up. "The pleasure is mines." She said with a returned smile, "Well, then shall we?" And with the nod of her head, Thanos took her arm and looped it around his, both of them walking in measured steps in their uncomfortable and unnecessary pieces of clothing towards the huge table where dinner would be served.

It doesn't take them that long to get there, given the sheer distance of the entrance to the dining room, and it leaves him room to fall back into his old habits of doing...well, nothing. He glances at the gardens outside the large windows, the darkness basically coating almost everything. Vividly recalling the smell of lilacs the beautiful royal guard posed. He looks at his feet and notices the lack of noise they make against the carpeted floors. He stares at the walls, taking note of the same patterns he's seen for basically his entire life.

And then, finally, big doors swing open to reveal the dining room. Loud chatter of people talking about politics or completely useful shit reach both of their ears, flowers mixing with each other every ten inches across the table in their assigned pots.

Everything was neatly set down, from plates, to the forks sitting there. This all feels way too overwhelming for Thanos, but he doesn't have the option to back down, not exactly- at least.

And then he hears his name being called, Mi-na's voice snapping him back to reality. Remembering he should be focused on Mi-na, his future wife all the time. "We should sit nearby our parents, shouldn't we?" The sweetness in her voice nearly intoxicated him, and Thanos had to control himself not to gag. "Sure, indeed we should."

And then Thanos was pulling the chair for her, once she was sat down and accommodated, he pushed the chair back against the table, not too far or too close. And finally, he sat down.

"Oh, don't they make a lovely pair?" A voice said before they even could get too awkward, it was Mi-na's mother. "Ah, thank you, your majesty. But I'm afraid nothing can beat how much of a beautiful couple you and your husband make. It is no wonder your daughter is just as beautiful as your union."

Thanos wasn't sure when he began to get polite or poetic, but frankly? He was just going with the flow, doing whatever he needed to be done, done.

"What a lovely young man you have raised, Soo-ah! Oh, I just know they'll get along so well. And not only that, it will be a huge benefit to both kingdoms!" Said Mi-na's mother, their fathers, on the other hand were too focused talking politics.

Dinner was served not too long after, everything looked delicious, many of them were eating as much as they could. Thanos, on the other hand couldn't seem to have an appetite. Every bite felt like a chunk of stale bread going down his throat, but he forced everything down, nobody could and should know.

The air felt far too suffocating, but lucky to him, Mi-na finally spoke up. "Mother, is it okay if me and Su-bong retreat somewhere.. quieter to chat? I'm afraid I can barely hear him."

Mi-na was sly, she knew her mom nor Thanos' mom or anyone really, was paying attention to if they had been talking or not. She was met with a permission to do so and a huge smile of her mother, as she tugged Thanos away by the arm, she could hear her excited but yet still calm and serene squeals of joy.

Stepping outside to the courtyard, both of them felt like they could finally breathe, that was much visible.

Mi-na barely knew the garden of this palace, but she still followed wherever her mind suggested her to go and ended up finding a small bench nearby a fountain, with the view to the window that gave them a look from the inside.

Thanos felt the silence grow awkward and suffocating, despite the new cold breeze hitting his face. Since Thanos didn't look like he was about to speak, Mi-na did first. "You don't look so pleased with this." It was stated almost matter of factly, was he seriously that easy to read?

Thanos only hummed in response, nevertheless. She could take it however she interpreted it. "Look, I'm not the happiest either, even if I look like it." Thanos' head perked up at that, brows furrowing. Normally, most girls would be dying to throw themselves in his arms.

As if sensing his confusion, Mi-na decided to just spill the beans. If she was truly destined to marry this man, the least she could do was tell him something very important about her, right? And if he didn't like it, well.. he'd have to get over it. "I'm a lesbian."

Thanos nearly choked on spit, eyes wide. And Mi-na burst out laughing, was it really THAT unbelievable?

"Wait- wait! You like girls?! Then why are you into the whole arranged marriage thing?" Thanos' mouth gaped open, he looked fucking stupid.

Mi-na, who was still recovering from her laughing fit, wiped invisible tears from the corner of her eyes as she smiled. "Fuck, you should have seen your face!" She said as she laughed just a bit more, recomposing herself. "I didn't have a choice, that's the thing. The economy in our kingdom is shit and we needed to join kingdoms with another to expand territory, which would be a benefit added to your kingdom, and then the economy part is better for us."

Mi-na explained, a mischievous smile finding its way into her lips. "Plus, there's one of the knights back home that I can't lie, she's nothing short of breathtaking." Mi-na had her eyes set on Se-mi, the aloof

Thanos thought he was doomed, but shit, a lesbian? Not that he had anything against them, Thanos himself knew he was bi, despite never trying anything with a dude. He just.. knew.

"And I thought I was the only one uncomfortable." Thanos snorted playfully, finally being able to properly breathe and use humor. "No, I swear to you, I was dreading coming here." Mi-na replied.

"Don't you have anyone, tho? Like, some sort of prohibited romance or anything?" Mi-na asked curiously, and Thanos stayed quiet.

Instead of holding her gaze, his eyes locked towards the window. Watching the blur of colors and people move inside, the chatter was still heard but not as loud. And then, his eyes locked into a young man- the same young man he saw enter the palace before.

For a second, Thanos was starstruck. His lips parted as he observed him up and down, his jaw nearly going slack. He was gorgeous, fuck, yes he was. His hair went down to the back of his skull, pin straight, with bangs tucked neatly behind his ears. His face was.. shit, his face was the most beautiful one Thanos had ever seen.

And when he finally caught a glimpse of his eyes, eyes that made him look almost like a cat, Thanos swore he forgot all about the girl he constantly was sad over.

But, he snapped out of it when Mi-na began snapping her fingers in front of his face. "Hello? Earth to Su-bong? Jeez, you made me talk all by myself, were you even listening?" She said a tad annoyedly.

"Who is he?" Thanos finally managed the words out, his mind snapped the perfect picture of the raven haired man, and he probably wouldn't be able to get it out anytime soon.

Mi-na looked shocked for a second, and then she began laughing ever harder. "You mean my brother? Pfft, do you even have a taste at all? He looks like a fucking wet rat!" Mi-na exclaimed between laughter, and Thanos despite knowing he shouldn't, felt the tip of his ears grow hot.

"Hey! Instead of judging me, can you at least tell me his name?" Thanos huffed, crossing his arms. "It's Nam-gyu, Roh Nam-gyu. The knights found him crying by his parents' body when he was a kid in a battlefield during war years ago, and we took him in. Hell, it's been eighteen excruciating years with him, we developed a sibling bond either way."

Now Thanos felt slightly guilty, he pitied himself sometimes even if it wasn't much- but Nam-gyu had lost his parents. "Oh, damn.." Thanos mumbled, and shook his head, not wanting to dampen the mood.

"You have a thing for him? I can set you guys up!" Mi-na said almost excited, practically formulating plans in her mind already.

"Hell yeah." Thanos blurted our, not expecting her to take it THAT seriously, but it wasn't like Thanos would mind being set up with him. "I'll do it! Don't worry, you're in good hands, oh my god finally that rat will have someone!" Mi-na squealed, clapping her hands excitedly.

And then, the sounds of footsteps faintly away were heard, and both of them were surprisingly quick to recompose themselves. "Your highnesses, my apologies for the interruption. But your parents, both of them, request the two of you inside."

One of the maids said quite gently, a gentle and warm smile gracing her old features as she retreated upon completing her mission, which was to deliver the message.

Thanos eyed Mi-na, who merely nodded as with a heavy and tired sigh, they looped their arms together and got ready to face the reality of the situation. She was a princess, he was a prince. No amount of acceptance over each other would ever change that fact.

They both sat down in their designed spots, Thanos assumed it wasn't that bad since the chatter decreased continuously. "My friends, thank you all for being present here today!.."

Thanos just zoned out, not caring if it was important or not.

He thought life was just boring, wake up, get dressed, eat, etiquette lessons, school lessons, read, read some more, get in dinner attire, eat with family, go to the golden cage that is his bedroom, fall asleep and repeat that again the next day and do that for almost 21 years.

Even if Mi-na got it, again, they'd still have to get married and accept their roles as king and queen of the nation.

With all his thoughts jumbling up into a mess in his head, Thanos focused on a point somewhere in the hallway. It was something out of habit he got whenever his father lectured him when he was too drunk, or when he started speaking crap. The royal family wasn't as kind and merciful as it seemed.

Even if he tuned out the sounds of his father speaking, his ears picked the faintest sounds of rain clattering against the windows, light at first, and then heavy. In his transfixed gaze, he managed to see a familiar silhouette wearing a navy blue suit sneak into the hallway and beginning to fast walk away.

Thanos recognized that as Nam-gyu.

He tapped Mi-na's thigh, and Mi-na got the hint. She pinched his thigh as a sign for him to go, and Thanos excused himself with a saying that it was an urgent matter.

While leaving, he managed to hear his father say that due to the weather conditions that were prone to only worsen, all of the guests would have a room in the palace to rest until it was safe to carry on to a trip back home.

Thanos however, was too focused on quietly trailing after the mysterious raven haired man that moved quietly but quickly through the oh so familiar halls of the castle.

Thanos couldn't exactly explain what attracted him so much to Nam-gyu rather than how fucking handsome he was. Nam-gyu looked rough on the surface, and yet easy to read- to cut through his story like a knife.

And yet, Thanos probably wouldn't know from the look on his face, judging by how stoic Nam-gyu looked albeit often using humor and sarcasm when talking to others.

But then again, Thanos would like to lose himself in that current of mysteries Nam-gyu looked like he was, like a mere cheap and priceless wine. The way Nam-gyu moved, how secretive he was.. it was as if he was begging for someone to follow him.

And Thanos would gladly do so, hell, his normally bland and hollow life was begging for Nam-gyu to take his hand and wreck all of the plans his father ever had planned for him.

After what felt like an eternity walking through the hallways full of paintings of unfamiliar faces and landscapes, he finally reached the back door. It was slightly ajar, did Nam-gyu know he was being followed? The thought made a slight pit of anxiety and excitement begin to grow in his stomach, a question, though, ran through his mind; what was Nam-gyu doing outside in the rain?

Before he could even second guess himself, he was stepping out. Feeling the raindrops fall and clatter against his clothing, wetting the fabric, his hair, his shoes.. basically everything.

And Nam-gyu was standing right in the entrance of the clearing, back to Thanos. How the hell could someone be so fast? Thanos wouldn't pry, his curiosity and desire to know Nam-gyu overpowered any of his side quest questions.

With slow, measured and tentative steps above the soil that slowly began to squelch under his expensive shoes, he finally reached Nam-gyu. Neither of them spoke, and for a second, Thanos began to believe it was a bad idea following after the other.

But Nam-gyu simply chuckled, turning his head to the side to meet Thanos' gaze. "You're not as quiet as you think you are, dude." Nam-gyu said, patting Thanos' gaze. "Aren't you supposed to be with Mi-na? I mean, you're getting married to her."

Thanos just shrugged, and began walking ahead. To his surprise, Nam-gyu followed. "I'm not fond of the idea to marrying her, don't get me wrong, she's cool. But one, she's a lesbian, and two, I don't think I'm ready." Thanos said briefly, following the path to the treehouse where they could privately talk rather than being listened to if they went back inside the palace.

"Oh, she told you? Damn, you must be pretty chill for her to tell you on the first day." Nam-gyu said without really questioning where they were going, he didn't mind how the rain was getting him all wet but he preferred to talk somewhere where they weren't getting soaked.

"Yeah.. she told me she's in love with some knight back to where you both live." Thanos said curtly but not totally humorless, not minding details as he began going up the ladder, and suddenly he was fucking glad that he had the roof and walls padded to keep the place intact ever since his old childhood crush left, they wouldn't get wet.. even if their clothes were nearly soaking due to the heavy rain.

Soon enough, both men were in a comfortable silence, sitting down on the floor of the old but familiar treehouse, at least to Thanos.

And then, he remembered. Reaching for the wood counter the treehouse contained, Thanos pulled out the cigarette pack and lighter he previously had left here before going down to dinner.

But he was no asshole, so of course, he offered one to Nam-gyu. "You want one?" He asked before lighting one stick up and holding it between his lips. "Hell yeah." The reply made Thanos grin, Nam-gyu was far more fun than Thanos called him out for in the beginning.

So, he lit another stick and handed it to Nam-gyu. Sitting next to him with his legs sprawled. The room fell into silence once again, the only sounds were the heavy rain clattering against the hard wood of the treehouse, the squelching of their shoes whenever one of them moved, and the soft puffs of the cigarettes.

"Isn't it too burdening? I mean, being the heir to the throne and all." Nam-gyu finally asked, and Thanos was taken aback. Nobody ever bothered to ask anything about that, not even if Thanos was fine. But he didn't lie, surprisingly he didn't feel the urge to do so. "It is, and honestly, if I could? I would get out of royalty. Be someone normal, I hate this formal shit and etiquette, I wish I could be more free, y'know?"

Thanos said quickly, basically rambling out what had been kept inside his chest for so long. He sighed, slumping his shoulders. Nam-gyu didn't seem to mind, not at all. Instead, the other man only patted his shoulder in an act of comfort.

"I'm sorry, man. It was never your choice, but hey, at least Mi-na isn't that bad despite calling me a wet rat." Nam-gyu let out a laugh that was half humorless half genuine. Matter of fact, he did look like he had a great sibling bond with Mi-na, just like she previously had mentioned.

Thanos looked to the side, meeting Nam-gyu's gaze. And once again, his lips parted upon staring into those eyes shaped almost like a cat's, Nam-gyu had the most beautiful black eyes Thanos ever has seen.

He didn't reply whatsoever, he was transfixed into those warm and dark orbs, and Nam-gyu stared back, right into his own grey eyes. It was involuntary how he looked down at Nam-gyu's lips and back to his eyes, and even more so when Nam-gyu did the same.

Thanos was fed up- deciding screw it, he couldn't be miserable forever, could he?

With the consent that Nam-gyu was on the same page as him, Thanos tilted his head to the side slightly and kissed him. It felt good, the blood rushed from his veins in a rapid pace and making his heart thump in his ears.

He felt teeth sink into his bottom lip, making him moan and open his mouth. Both of their tongues fought for dominance and yet danced in a beautiful symphony, and Thanos felt weirdly alive. His life was nothing but a willow, and it bent right into Nam-gyu's wind.

He felt hands, long fingers, dig into his scalp. His hands instinctively gripped Nam-gyu's hips, leaning forward slightly as they kept up their little make out session.

The cigarettes were long forgotten on the floor, already put out. That fire was out, but another was ignited within them both.

The lack of air made them separate, both chests heaved as their lungs worked to suck in as much as they could. Thanos stared at Nam-gyu, how his lips got all wet and red, and he didn't even give him time to breathe, he leaned in for another kiss. Kind of desperate, sloppy even. But the two of them were too comfortable to care.

Nam-gyu was the one to break the kiss, this time. Looking at Thanos in the eyes. "We shouldn't be doing this, you'll likely be engaged to my sister." Nam-gyu panted, and yet still gave Thanos a chaste kiss. They exchanged kisses between words, their actions in themselves were a whole contradiction. "She's a lesbian, and I want you. We both know this is for the greater good of both kingdoms." Thanos uttered back, and none of them touched the topic again as their lips clashed together, this time in a far more softer and romantic symphony.

Thanos traced his kisses downwards, kissing the corner of Nam-gyu's lips, his jaw, peppering gentle kisses there. And then finally, he connected them to Nam-gyu's neck. Thanos wasn't stupid to leave prominent marks, the marks he sucked on the other's neck was close to the juncture of his shoulders, descending to his collarbones as he unbuttoned his undershirt, all while Nam-gyu let out pants and moans here and there. Thanos found that to be the most beautiful sound ever.

His hands never really stayed still, either. One of them slid under the wet fabric of Nam-gyu's wet vest and undershirt, caressing the skin there gently. He pulled his lips back from Nam-gyu's collarbone to kiss the other again, it was something Thanos began growing fond of. Nam-gyu's lips were warm against his, so full of life and comforting.. it just felt right.

Thanos fingers' nimbly worked on Nam-gyu's vest and white undershirt, exposing inch by inch of wet skin caused by the rain, and yet, on the last button, Nam-gyu held his wrist. "Wait."

So Thanos waited, everything to make this as comfortable as he could for both of them if they really were going to do this. "You should know something, I'm not sure if you're okay with it but it's.. y'know, whatever." Nam-gyu didn't really know a better way to name it, so he just stuck to what he normally would say in awkward topics. Nam-gyu took a deep breath as the other watched, lips pursing and then finally, he let it out. "I don't.. have a thing, y'know? I'm transgender."

Thanos' mind was conflicted for a little, but can you blame him? He only grew up with the basic terms. Lesbian? Sure, two women who like each other, Gay? Two men who like each other. Bi? Liking both genders, but transgender?

Judging by how Nam-gyu said he didn't have a dick, though. Thanos guessed transgender people went by the opposite gender they were born as, and Thanos found that he didn't care. Which in return, made him realize he didn't want only Nam-gyu's body, because he didn't care however he looked. He just wondered how people in his kingdom accepted him, being the prince and all that.. it was likely he was already like this when he was found and nobody knew, but maybe he was open about it.

"Only Mi-na knows, she helps me when it's.. important days, but it's fine if you don't want to keep going, I get it—" Nam-gyu began again, looking a tad nervous to say so at least.

"I still want you." Thanos chimed in before Nam-gyu could get too nervous, and then he was unbuttoning the rest of Nam-gyu's wet undershirt. He swore he saw a huge look of surprise and maybe even joy cross Nam-gyu's face, it made him feel good. But he wouldn't press on it, too focused on the goal.

Nam-gyu was like a painting, the prince thought. Every piece of him was pure art, admiring and stripping him like this felt like observing an exquisite work of art. If Nam-gyu was one in a literal way, Thanos wouldn't mind wasting too much money on him. He would be one of the few far too overpriced stuff he'd buy in the blink of an eye.

Thanos saw scars, that's the first thing he noticed. He guessed these were from when he was younger, from the times in war. And then, he had two scars just below his chest. Thanos guessed he got it removed at some point, Nam-gyu always seemed to find a way to things, and that fascinated Thanos.

"You're so beautiful." Thanos uttered, thumb running over a few of the scars so gently he swore he could see goosebumps rise on Nam-gyu's skin. "Idiot, just get to the point, you're seriously making me throb." Nam-gyu hissed, sounding really more needy than annoyed or pissed.

"Someone's eager." Thanos teased, and yet didn't waste time to slip one of his hands down Nam-gyu's pants without really giving a warning, he chased Nam-gyu's lips, feeling the other being way more than hapy to comply.

His hand however, dipped inside Nam-gyu's boxers, and was surprised to find that Nam-gyu wasn't joking when he meant he needed it. He was practically dripping, hell, ‘I think I love you’ was the first thing passing Thanos' mind.

Two of his fingers found his clit, pressing down on it and rubbing slow, measured circles that were just enough to drag pleasured moans out of Nam-gyu, who was finally getting what he wanted.

The stimulation, albeit not much, was relieving. Considering how much he had been throbbing just from some sweet words.. Nam-gyu was fucking filthy for it but could you blame him? Not really.

"Shit.. yeah— like that." He said in a mix between a moan and a hiss between his gritted teeth, head throwing back in another moan that was muffled by the heavy rain outside when finally, he felt a finger dip inside of him. It took all of his possible willpower to not grind down against it, he never noticed initially how long Thanos' fingers actually were, but feeling it right now? Nam-gyu would think his fingers were enough to get him off perfectly.

Thanos slowly moved that finger in and out, swapping the same finger that had been on Nam-gyu's clit for his thumb, drawing moan per moan from the other. Once he was completely sure he was okay with just one finger, he slid another in. This time, he actually felt Nam-gyu clench around them, not being able to stop the string of moans falling from his lips.

"Shit, you're so wet— are you always this responsive?" Thanos was almost mesmerized by the man below him; and Nam-gyu relished in the attention. Feeling Thanos scissor him open while still genuinely fucking him in his fingers. "Not for many." Nam-gyu replied and Thanos' heart stuttered, a stupid grin finding its way to his lips.

Fueled by those words, he swapped from just prying him open to actually drawing out Nam-gyu's pleasure with his fingers solely. Driving his fingers up fast, and Nam-gyu nearly saw stars when Thanos was quick to find that certain spongy spot inside of him. If the rain wasn't enough to keep him quiet, the way Thanos began kissing him like he was starving for this would be more than enough.

The sounds of squelching every time his fingers move didn't go by unnoticed between their sessions of heated kisses, Thanos groaned against Nam-gyu's lips. Thanos was genuinely surprised on how wet Nam-gyu was and they barely had done anything much.

Thanos genuinely couldn't keep his mouth off of Nam-gyu, as soon as the kiss ended, his mouth was in one of his nipples. Tongue latching on it in a complete different pace from how his fingers moved, he was so transfixed he almost didn't get Nam-gyu's words. He mainly only got it because of how sweetly Nam-gyu moaned his name out, and Thanos swore he could faint. "Su-bong— oh, fuck! G-go faster, ah—"

"You're an angel." Thanos blurted out before he could stop himself, Nam-gyu seemed taken aback, but it didn't last long as Thanos indulged in his request. The pressure on his clit became harsher, constant, too. His fingers were fucking inside of him so well Nam-gyu couldn't stay fucking quiet. His eyes shut tight, thighs squirming and almost nearly clenching as he felt a warm coil in his core, bringing him closer and closer and closer until it snapped.

"Su-bong, oh- shit, oh my god!— I'm.." His words were like his state, messy. Messy as he threw his head back with moans he couldn't hold back, Thanos moaned against Nam-gyu's neck as he kept fucking his fingers into the other while he came, almost desperate to drag out any pleasure he could from him. Only truly slowing down to a stop when Nam-gyu was merely fluttering around his fingers.

Nam-gyu was panting, his stomach was full of butterflies and he felt alive. He whined as he felt Thanos slip his fingers out, he just had one of the best orgasms of his life but Nam-gyu was known for being a greedy man. He needed more. "Su-bong—" "I've got you."

Nam-gyu didn't even have time to express his needs, Thanos was already working on his pants and pulling them down alongside his boxers. The cold air hit his wet skin, but it was surprisingly warm despite the breeze making him slightly cold.

Thanos admired Nam-gyu like a fine piece of art, and Nam-gyu couldn't help but feel his ears flush. He wasn't used to this. "Asshole, stop looking at me with those eyes." But Nam-gyu enjoyed the attention.

"Well, what can I say? It's not everyday someone who looks like an angel is naked on my treehouse." Thanos said teasingly but he meant it. He really did. "Just fuck me." Nam-gyu whined, and if those words don't make Thanos groan, heat pulsating through him, then it's the way Nam-gyu's looking at him that does it. Eyes wet with unshed tears, face flushed and chest heaving, he's a vision, a plea written all over his face, and Thanos would be damned if he didn't indulge in what he wanted.

Thanos worked off his clothing that clung to his skin insistingly, every piece discarded somewhere on the floor, at least they could try to dry. Nam-gyu's lips parted, Thanos wasn't huge but hell, he was big. And he wanted him- no. He needed him, he probably would die (which is just him being dramatic) if he had to wait any longer when he swore he was so horny it was affecting the way he was thinking. "Come on, please."

"You're so impatient." Thanos said, almost amused. A shaky sigh leaving his lips as he stroked himself a few times before kneeling in front of Nam-gyu. His hands gently spread his thighs apart, to which the other complied. Gathering slick and Nam-gyu's release with the tip of his dick, Thanos had to really hold back to not cum just from the sight of Nam-gyu. He looked absolutely blissed out. "Su-bo—" Before Nam-gyu even had time to protest, Thanos slid the tip in, a moan leaving both of them at the sudden but not unwelcome sensation.

Thanos' hands held Nam-gyu's hips, grounding him down as he tried to genuinely have any sort of control over himself. The way Nam-gyu moaned and panted was doing absolutely no good for him, but he kept going nevertheless.

He began moving in slow, gentle thrusts. Not to move but to ease himself in, each inch sunken down to Nam-gyu's cunt just made him feel weirdly stuffed, so full, but full in a good way.

The air was filled with labored breathing and moans from both sides as Thanos kept sliding himself in, and then finally, he bottomed out.

Thanos felt like he could finally breathe, and if he thought he looked bad, hell, Nam-gyu looked completely out of it.

His eyes were screwed shut, his lips swollen from the making out session they had few minutes ago, hickeys bloomed on his neck where it was easy to hide. He was flushed, and he looked so fucking blissed out, genuinely happy, Thanos would say.

"Shit.. Su-bong, you're in so deep." Nam-gyu moaned, he could feel how his body naturally put the effort to accommodate around the other's dick, but either way, he felt stuffed. Not too much, not too little, he felt stuffed to the brim but yet not enough to push him over the breaking point. "I know, just breathe f'me okay? Relax." Thanos murmured, littering kisses over Nam-gyu's face. He felt corny, but honestly? It felt right, and whatever felt right and good, he'd do it.

"Please." Was all Nam-gyu ever needed to say to have Thanos moving.

He set for a slow pace, and yet it was also deep. Each drag of his cock along Nam-gyu's gummy walls felt heavenly, he could do this forever. Have Nam-gyu around him forever, shit, he'd probably go against his father if it meant having Nam-gyu like this, underneath him and blissed out anytime they both wanted.

Nam-gyu's head lolled back against the floor, not having anywhere to grab, he opted for Thanos's shoulders, gripping either sides in a strong grip to have some leverage for himself. "Please- please go faster, I'll lose my fucking mind—"

Nam-gyu was surprised as Thanos complied with his request quickly, maybe far too quickly but he couldn’t care less. He swore he felt his eyes rolling back, endless moans and pleas falling from his lips even if he wasn’t aware of what he was begging for.

“Look at you, taking it so well, hm?” Thanos said with that stupid grin on his face, but in reality, he was really just overwhelmed by the whole situation. In a good way, of course.

“You’re so desperate, how long has it even been for you?” Thanos said as he hooked one arm under Nam-gyu’s knee, throwing it over his shoulder and if Nam-gyu thought he couldn’t go any deeper, with how he was arranged right now Thanos actually managed to push further. Stars burst from behind his eyelids, nails scraping Thanos’ shoulders, “What would they think? The princess’ brother getting his needy pussy filled by the man his sister is supposed to marry, how do you think they’d react?”

Thanos whispered these words onto Nam-gyu’s ear, and he knew he wasn’t going overboard, not with how Nam-gyu clenched around him with every word. “I bet you’d like them to know, wouldn’t you?” Thanos said with a smirk, he wasn’t sure how he was managing to control himself so well, it took all of his willpower, really. The second he was in, he had to hold back to not cum right that instant.

Nam-gyu nodded, hell yes he’d like them to know. “Yes, yes—” He moaned, everything overwhelmed his senses, from how deep Thanos fucked into him, to how he felt close to another orgasm, to Thanos’ words.. it all made a heady cocktail in his brain that was nearly bordering too much.

“It’s okay, though. Because you look handsome during it.” Thanos uttered, leaving kisses all over Nam-gyu’s neck.

Nam-gyu wrapped his leg that wasn’t over Thanos’ shoulder around his hip, pulling him flush against himself. Nam-gyu felt as if he was being pounded into next week, but did he mind that? Not at all. He felt so close, just a little bit more and he’d cum— “Su-bong.. please, I wanna cum, please.” He whined, really the only sentence he managed to properly say since Thanos slid inside.

“Shh, I’ve got you.” Thanos mumbled, one of his hands reaching for Nam-gyu’s clit. Two of his fingers rubbing and circling it in the same pace, or almost the same pace, he fucked himself into Nam-gyu. “I’m close too, just hold on a bit, yeah?”

The air was filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin, it was nothing short of filthy. But nobody needed to know, right? Only the rain would know. “Look at you- shit!” Thanos groaned, Nam-gyu was pulsing constantly around his dick, his insides pulling him in as if his body never wants to let him go. “You look so handsome around my dick.. it’s a million or more worth of wons sight.” Thanos said through gritted teeth.

“Su-bong, fuck.. I’m gonna—” Nam-gyu moaned, barely handling how much he was near the edge, it was a huge overwhelming feeling that he didn’t know whether it was more painful or just pleasurable. “Shit, okay.. fuck, cum on my dick then, shit!”

And that was all Nam-gyu genuinely needed before he began gushing around Thanos, nails scraping hard against his shoulders and his back arching, it was all so good Nam-gyu would guess he was nearly floating. Thanos wasn’t any better, he was basically blabbering as his thrusts grew sloppy, hips stuttering as he fucked Nam-gyu throughout his whole orgasm. “In or out?”

Nam-gyu didn’t have much time to register or think, he just went with what his heart wanted, screw all logic. “In, please, just cum in me.” Nam-gyu said breathless.

Thanos wasn’t sure how he didn’t lose his mind at that plea, but his hands gripped the other’s hip and thigh where he had been steadying him so tight he would think it’d bruise, but none of that mattered.

He pulled back one last time, and then finally, as he buried himself as far as he could go, he came. Panting against Nam-gyu’s shoulder, letting go of his leg and just hugging his waist.

They stayed like that for a while, maybe minutes, maybe hours. It felt like a nice eternity, both of them were blissed out. The soft padding of the rain against the treehouse made the atmosphere feel serene and calm, and once their breaths regulated, Thanos straightened up slightly.

“That might have been the best fuck of my life.” Thanos said with a chuckle after sucking in a long breath, and it drew out a laugh from Nam-gyu along the way. “I can say the same, shit, I don’t think I’ll be walking straight for a few days.” The older man said with a playful scoff.

Thanos simply smiled, in that moment, he actually felt happy. He let out a contented sigh as he began pulling out, wincing and hearing a few gasps from the other beneath him as he did so.

Once he was fully out, Thanos was left to see the aftermath. And Nam-gyu looked gorgeous.

His skin was flushed, his previously neat hair was all mused and sticking to his sweaty forehead. He had marks on him, marks Thanos inflicted and nobody would know. His eyes were teary, his lips were red and wet, his cum dribbled out of him.

Thanos looked at Nam-gyu, who looked back at him, seemingly confused by the look on Thanos’ face, and then the other ducked his head between his legs, making Nam-gyu nearly yelp.

“Son of a bitch, I’m still sensitive-” Nam-gyu complained, and he was tired, too. “I’m just cleaning you up.” Thanos replied innocently, when in truth he just needed a taste of Nam-gyu, even if he’d taste himself in the process.

Without any further complaints, Thanos licked a stripe over Nam-gyu’s slit, feeling one of his hands tangle in his hair.

Thanos wouldn’t tease, and he’d also be as careful as he could to not overwhelm the other so much. Pressing a gentle kiss to his clit, Thanos finally slid his tongue in.

The taste wasn’t so bad, it was neutral. A little tangy, musky, but it wasn’t bad. Dedicating himself to cleaning Nam-gyu up, Thanos alternated between tongue fucking him to catching as much of their releases as he could.

Nam-gyu was moaning and panting above him, thighs tightening around Thanos’ head. Even if the intention was to just clean him up, it was inevitable how sensitive he felt, but it somehow still managed to feel good. It was as if Thanos had a way to make everything feel good.

Thanos on the other hand was just enjoying himself, finding this better than anything he did to relax. Even when he was sure he was done with his work, he latched onto that sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking on it gently and earning a whine from Nam-gyu. “It’s too much..” the other said as his thighs tightened around his head. “You can do one more for me, come on, handsome. I know you can.” Thanos’ words were muffled against Nam-gyu’s cunt but yet still audible.

Thanos didn’t do much, just really alternating between sucking and flattening his tongue against Nam-gyu’s clit, judging by how sensitive he knew he was, it wouldn’t take too long for him to cum.

Thanos rubbed one of Nam-gyu’s thighs gently, feeling them tighten around his head as Nam-gyu’s moans not only grew louder in volume but in pitch, and then he was finally coming again.

Thanos caught every single drop, or whatever he could catch, with his mouth. Busying himself as Nam-gyu tugged at his hair in an almost painful grip that Thanos didn’t mind at all.

Once his third and last orgasm subsided, Thanos leaned his head into one of Nam-gyu’s thigh. Watching how his chest heaved and his eyes struggled to stay open as he attempted to calm the shockwaves running throughout his body, Thanos simply smiled at the sight.

Once their eyes locked after a few seconds, Nam-gyu wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or amused by the stupid expression on Thanos’ face. “You look dumb.” He snorted. “Wasn’t what you were saying when I was deep into you few seconds ago.” Thanos retorted, joining in. “..You’re playing dirty.”

Thanos simply laughed it off and straightened up, wiping the remaining glistening juices from his chin with the back of his hand as he lay next to Nam-gyu, one arm draped over his waist as they faced each other.

For a few minutes, they just stared at each other. Eyes filled with a feeling none of them could decipher, love? Longing? Passion? The two of them were too tired to decipher.

As the minutes ticked by, none of them spoke up until Nam-gyu remembered the others would probably be looking for them. “We should go back.” Nam-gyu mumbled. “We can go later, plus, nobody knows of this treehouse. We can just say we hid somewhere when it started raining.” Thanos said as he carded his fingers through Nam-gyu’s short black hair.

Maybe they couldn’t be together, perhaps his father wouldn’t allow it. But one thing was for sure, Nam-gyu was a price Thanos would cheat to win.

[palabraasinnecesarias]

tangible. ao3 | ff.net ship: ranma/akane words: 8,434 Ranma comes to the rescue when Akane finds herself just a tad tipsy; he just wasn't expecting her to be confessing such things. post-manga.

There were many things Akane missed after graduating high school, particularly the absence of her friends. There was a sense of longing after the stretched hours the young girls seemed to spend chatting among themselves – about everything and not anything all at once.  

The dark-haired woman merrily sat across her two friends, a smile tugging at her lips as she twirled the plastic straw in her tall glass of iced tea. She had kept her short hair and bangs; she wore makeup nowadays, although usually, it only consisted of tinged lip balm and curling her eyelashes. She listened intently, smiling as Yuka and Sayuri chatted away. They all attended different schools now, and today had been the first time, in a long time, managing to meet up.  

They grabbed lunch at a nearby bistro within the plaza they strolled after, leisurely passing the time. And it wasn’t that Akane wanted to be dramatic, but she was unable to help herself from missing the domestic essence of being a woman in the city, enjoying the ordinariness of a day. 

Their conversations seemed to be endless, looping about each other’s lives as they walked down memory lane, Akane wishing the day didn’t have to end so soon. And so, when Yuka suggested, “Let’s grab a drink before heading out,” she couldn’t help but nod encouragingly.  

 “So, no baby just yet?”  

continue reading in my ao3 or ff.net account

Akane had snapped her head up so quickly, her fingertips tensed against the glass, unable to hide the utter disbelief at the question just thrown at her. She wrinkled her nose as some sort of reaction, all the while her mind rushing, already trying to find way to steer the conversation elsewhere.  

Still, she managed to calm her breath when noticing her friends chuckle softly, noting they were likely just trying to tease her somehow.  

They had already asked about Ranma, having been quite appreciative that their inquiries about her marriage had been kept short and at a minimum. There hadn’t been more to their simple questions of “how’s it like being the Mrs.?”  

Akane had believed the topic would be dropped once moving on to the next subject at tow, but the mentions of a baby concentrated on other variables to the question, such as the insinuations that she and her husband have had, well, sex . And as a complete virgin, that was quite impossible: that is, get pregnant when they hadn’t even made it past the first base, let alone go all the way .  

She just wanted to laugh it off, and she almost succeeded, rolling her eyes in an aloof sort of way that convinced her if she didn’t pay the question much attention, neither should they.  

Of course, this was Yuka and Sayuri. 

“Oh, c’mon, Akane,” Sayuri scoffed endearingly, leaning forward with a cheeky grin too wide to ignore, insisting that she say something, anything, hoping to coax her into oversharing, “what’s it like?”  

“Well,” Akane sipped her drink in hopes of drowning down the gnawing knot at the back of her throat, “like I said earlier, it’s like it’s always been, I guess.”  

“Still getting dragged into weird situations?” Yuka teased.  

The married woman smiled meekly unable to deny such a claim.  

“Bet that heavy rock helps keep weirdos from approaching you, though?” 

Akane glanced down at her engagement ring, the one that used to belong to Auntie Saotome and was now comfortably resting on her slim finger, along with her wedding band. She skimmed her fingertips over the stones cautiously, as if remembering for the first time that day that she had been wearing them. She couldn’t help but smile fondly, bashful and unknowing as to why she suddenly felt embarrassed. It reminded her that she was married, and in love. That’s normal, expected even, yet, Akane couldn’t stop the crimson shade overtaking her cheeks from just remembering the way she felt about him.  

And although their theory made sense, Akane hadn’t needed to strut her engagement ring with the purpose of repelling men, most probably having to do with the fact that she didn’t go out alone much. Ranma, her husband, usually accompanied her everywhere, unless she asked him not to, but hardly ever did she not want him to go with her.  

“It’s so hard to find a nice guy nowadays. They’re all...” 

“Weird?” The two young women giggled childishly at each other, and Akane chuckled lightly at them unable to relate, wishing she could offer advice, but was coming short. Not about dating or anything relating of such sorts.  

“Okay, but seriously,” Yuka smirked mischievously, propping her chin against her palms, her elbows sturdy on the table as she interrogated, “how’s the sex? Is it as good as we all expected?”  

Expected?  

Akane was stammering now, sweating bullets as the seconds passed, glaring at her curious friends, not knowing what to say. Because in all honesty, there wasn’t anything to say. She shouldn’t have felt embarrassed by such a detail; so, she hadn’t made love with her husband – that wasn't precisely a bad thing.   

Did she sometimes have desires of Ranma touching her? She couldn't deny that claim, either.  

“Yes, how is it? Kinda expecting the best of the best.”  

Akane’s nose wrinkled at the way their teasing pulled at her insides, unknowing why but nervous forced to think about such a topic. “What,” she cleared her throat gently, “...what do you mean by that?”  

“I mean, c’mon, Akane,” Yuka grinned waywardly, slightly blushing, slightly bothering Akane more than it should have. “He’s like this great martial artist, athletic guy,” she continued speaking in a matter-of-fact sort of tone, “I’m sure he’s great at, I don’t know…pleasing you?” The last statement had been spoken in a hushed tone, leaning slightly forward, eager for whatever Akane had to share.  

“Shut up, shut up,” Akane gasped, nervously glancing around them, not knowing how to stop talking about all of this . “Can we not talk about this?”  

And with the many years they had known the flustering mess their friend could be, unitedly they had come to the conclusion, accusing, “You haven’t had sex with your husband?”  

Akane shushed them furiously, ready to go home. And yet, as she looked at her friends begging for a further discussion as to what was the intimacy of her married life, she found herself caving in with an exasperated sigh, “N-no. Not yet.” She winced again, because the word yet defined that it was going to happen.  

Unironically, Ranma had never shown to not be interested in her beyond an arranged marriage. They had kissed. A lot – and oh, god, was it good.  

Three iced teas down, and deeper into the conversation than she initially had intended to be, Akane rubbed her temples, tired and slightly sleepy. Frustrated, too.   

Of course, she didn’t appreciate the urge to rapport on such affairs, but it wasn’t like she was estranged to the idea of yearning to lay with her husband. There were just so many obstacles to factor in, and the most important one being: were they ready to have sex? Tossing aside that they were married, essentially forced to share what used to be just her bedroom, it wasn’t all that of a silly question. They hadn't been ready then; how would they know if that’d changed?   

Their first few nights as a married couple, Ranma simply insisted on sleeping on the floor, in hopes that she wasn’t uncomfortable.  

Although the whole situation was new to the both of them, they were familiar to their dispositions, and Akane appreciated what he was trying to do. After almost of week, she insisted he share the bed with her – unless he didn’t want to. Of course, bad habits die hard, and couldn’t resist herself throwing in, “You probably were expecting something more...sexy, huh?”  

She hadn’t known exactly why she had accused such a thing, when they had talked about their arrangement, and had agreed they wanted to be together. Yet, having him not want to share a bed clouded her thoughts. Wasn’t that what husband and wife did?  

“Cut it out, Akane, y’know that ain’t why.”  

“Then what is it?” The urgency to know trumped over her comfortability of just letting the situation unravel on its own terms. If he didn’t want to be with her, she deserved to know.  

“At night,” he had said, and Akane nodded intently, “if I hold ya’, I just don’ wanna’ make ya’ freak out or nothin’.”  

“Ranma,” Akane sighed heavily, slightly relief that was his concern. Still, she could understand where this rooted from, and instead reached for his hand, tangling her fingers in between his, smiling rosily, “I want you to hold me.”   

They couldn’t exactly remember when it started to happen, or precisely how, but soon enough the pair had permitted themselves to explore one another.  

It wasn’t scheduled by any means, but usually after her bath, when Akane was getting ready for bed, ruffling her towel through the short strands of her damp hair, she’d be quick to notice Ranma’s immense blushing as he tried to be sneaky when she'd catch him looking at her. And she knew he wanted to kiss. Akane would take a seat on the bed with him, Ranma easily setting whatever book he was reading down, easing her mind to notice that she wouldn’t be competing for his attention against his favorite pass time.  

The young woman would lean forward until invading his personal space, accompanied by a reassuring smirk that ghosted just above his lips until he was kissing her.  

Only once did she suspect Ranma wanting to go beyond kissing.  

Ranma’s hand had begun migrating its way to rest up her shoulder, feeling his palm sprawl until his fingertips skimmed the crook of her neck. She remembered how gently he pressed against her skin, igniting something within her as his thumb mindlessly grazed about her jaw, so tenderly.  

Akane had gasped into his kiss, her mouth widening, tilting her head in a welcoming manner, ignoring that she was beginning to run out of breath. She was melting within his grasp – at the way his fingers rooted themselves against the nape of her neck.  

His lips always felt so good against her own; wet, and gentle with each stroke. But that night, Ranma’s mouth felt as though it would blister against her flesh. His firm hold pulled her towards him, and she couldn’t help but comply. She pushed herself upwards, inhaling the ravishing aroma of him, entranced at the way his newly hand position had possessed her so effortlessly.  

There came a time she couldn’t breathe anymore, and forced herself to pull away, calling his name in a hoarse tone in hopes he’d let her take in some air while trying to compose her boggled mind. “Ranma,” was all she had managed to say as she blinked her half-lidded eyes a few times. But before she could say more, tell him how much she was enjoying whatever this was , the poor fool quickly excused himself and rushed out the bedroom. She didn’t see him that night, or half of the next day, leaving her to wonder about so many things because this kiss hadn’t been like any of the others. 

 Did she want to have sex with Ranma? Oh, god, maybe she was a pervert.     

Akane’s eyebrows crinkled towards each other as she closed her eyes, seemingly in pain. “I just- it’s...” How does she even ask that question so directly?  

continue reading in my ao3 or ff.net account

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

How did the Boyd boys and blackguard lose their virginity?

CW for referenced dub-con sex, non con sex, and CSA, read with caution!

Steve Murphy: It was with his high school girlfriend. He mostly got together with her because they were friendly classmates and his friends insisted he had a crush (the comphet is strong in this one!). He liked her well enough, and went through all the bases dutifully because they were the Things To Do, but he broke up with her shortly after they had sex for the first time. It was totally consensual and pleasant enough in the moment, but afterwards he just felt so weird in a way he couldn’t wrap his head around, and that easy companionship he’d always felt with her before went away. Sex with women got easier after that first time, but I do HC that he likes and trusts Connie a lot more when they aren’t fucking (platonic sibling roleplay ftw!).

Donald Pierce: @abusivelittlebunny utterly evisercated me and my friend with their devastating HC about Pierce’s stepdad being sexually abusive. My own HC (originally based on theirs, but possibly a little different) is that Pierce’s stepdad presented himself to Pierce as a confidant, befriending him but also having borderline inappropriate conversations with him. After Pierce’s mom ran off his stepdad started crossing more boundaries, which eventually culminated in him raping Pierce and insisting it was what Pierce had been wanting this whole time. (Pierce had a little bit of a puppy crush on his stepdad when he was first introduced to him, which his stepdad knowingly took advantage of to guilt Pierce into thinking it was his fault.) Pierce was 14 when it started, and even in the present day he’s still half-convinced they were in a relationship, or he wanted it, or his stepdad just couldn’t control himself. (Anyway, check out bun’s art, it’s heartbreaking and gorgeous.)

Cap Hatfield: He’s a virgin! He’s used his hands and mouth before, but I don’t think he’d consider that sex, especially since it’s not for his own pleasure.

Clement Mansell: You know, I was debating this one for the longest, but I think it actually took him a while to feel comfortable enough to have sex. The stuff with his mom - seeing her with her rotating assortment of clients and hearing it through the walls from a way too young age - made him feel pretty uneasy around sex, and this general discomfort took a while to wear off. That being said, when he decided at age 22 that he did indeed wanna fuck, he dove in headfirst! He went from being totally inexperienced (only quick gropes over clothes at clubs!) to having a threesome with a girl and her boyfriend. It was a great night - he was decently twisted, and looking back he’s not positive if he got fucked by her or fucked him first (she wore a strap and the guy bottomed) - which is kind of how he prefers it!

The Corinthian: He’s fucked boys in their dreams since pretty much his first week on the job millennia ago, but the first time he had sex in the waking world was over two thousand years ago with Calliope, when he’d been sent to escort her and Orpheus through Naxos. Calliope wanted to have some fun and reward Corinthian for doing such a good job, and they had some fantastically sadomasochistic sex. After Calliope and Dream divorced, Dream erased all the memories of her and Orpheus from Corinthian’s mind, including this.

Eli Klaber: When he was teenager he went out dressed up in girl’s clothes and makeup semi-regularly (initially the girls in his neighborhood were the ones to dress him up and take him out like this, but even after they married off or left, he kept up the habit). Most of the time he just hung out and got a drink or two, but he did like to flirt on occasion. When he was 17 a man he’d been making eyes at half-dragged him out of the bar to the back alley, flipped him against the bricks, pushed down his stockings, and fucked him. Honestly, the sex was objectively pretty dubious, but Klaber had a great time. He’s still not sure what the guy knew or didn’t about him.

Danny Maguire: When he was 16, him, his friend, and his friend’s slightly older girlfriend (she was 19) were hanging out in his basement and drinking together. His friend got sick and went to bed, but at her insistence he stayed downstairs drinking with her. Things got a little blurry and then next thing he remembers Katerina was on his lap getting his zipper open. Him and his friend had a falling out a year later, and he’ll sometimes brag about how he lost his virginity to his BFF’s girl, but he also clams up something bad whenever anyone asks him for details, and he felt so gross about it the next day (he still kind of does, although he tries not to think about it as anything other than a funny and cool story).

Ty Shaw: He started being sexually active when he was 15, but he didn’t have PiV sex until he was 19. He’s not really sure why, but he wonders if subconsciously it was his nervousness over having sex that could get someone pregnant, considering his mom’s track record of unplanned pregnancies. He lost his virginity to a lovely girl named Mia who was in town visiting relatives; they hooked up fairly consistently for a few weeks, and had sex that was pretty fun on his side and… okay on hers. (She’s massively submissive and masochistic, but at that point hadn’t quite figured out exactly what she liked or how to ask for it, although the last time they fucked he spanked her until she cried and then switched between fucking her ass and her pussy. She came three times… and also got a monster UTI that almost sent her to the hospital.)

Quinn McKenna: He lost his virginity in a way that’s almost beat by beat how Steve did, except Quinn’s actually into women, and ended up having a pretty decent time. Not like, top tier - frankly, him and Soo-Yeon were better as friends, but it was a nice memory and they were very cute at prom together.

[gooch-cancer]

can we PLS PLS PLS talk about during the scene when the creature fulfills lisa's dying wish how gentle he was for her...the gentle kisses on her face dragging it out and when she reveals herself to him he's only looking at her face filled with love. how careful he was with her, it might've been aunt flo but i was sobbing...

i'm not big on sex scenes or anything not for any particular reason they just feel awkward to me but that genuinely made me like so happy to see and the animated scene of them riding the rocket ship and turning it into a "Trip to the Moon" reference. i loved it so much. he genuinely loves her so much and i didn't expect this much from the creature considering he's from the 19th century but seeing that really made me elated.

[greengoblinswifey]

Beneath Chaos—Hwang In ho/Player 001 x Fem!Reader

summary— amid the deadly Squid Game, you form a forbidden bond with Young-il, a married man. one night after lights out, seeking comfort, you ask him to stay by your side and things escalate.

warnings— no spoilers, age gap(reader is in her 20s, young-il is in his 40s), infidelity, oral(f!receiving), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— for the newbies, y/n in all my stories is black but ofc, everyone can read <3 also this man has so many names, omfg.

Part II

The games had taken their toll on everyone. The latest round had been especially brutal, dead bodies across the arena, screams still ringing in your ears even after hours. Everyone was on edge, fear settling deep into their bones as they huddled in their corners of the dormitory, too paranoid to sleep.

You sat in the dim light, knees drawn up to your chest, trying to quiet your breathing. You glanced over to the group you had managed to stick with, Gi-hun, Jung Bae, Dae-ho, the rest and—Young il.

Your gaze lingered on him longer than it should have. He was older, quiet, and deliberate in his actions, his face lined with age and attractiveness. There was a steadiness to him, even in the chaos of the games, that drew you in despite your better judgment. You knew he had a wife, he had mentioned her being in the hospital when the group shared snippets of their lives. But the magnetic pull you felt toward him was undeniable.

The sleeping quarters was cold, the hum of fear in the air. You hesitated before shifting closer to him. “Young-il,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

He turned to you, his expression calm but questioning. “What is it?”

You swallowed hard, feeling foolish for even asking. “Can you—can you stay beside me tonight? I just, um, I don’t feel safe.”

He regarded you for a moment, his dark eyes scanning your face. Then, after a beat of silence, he nodded. “Alright.”

Relief washed over you as he moved closer, sitting beside you on the thin mattress. The proximity made your heart race, but you told yourself it was just the stress of the situation.

Hours passed, and the room slowly quieted as people succumbed to exhaustion. You and Young-Il lay on your sides, facing each other. The dim light cast soft shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the lines etched into his skin.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmured, his voice low, almost teasing.

You blinked, startled. “Like what?”

“Like I’m the answer to whatever you’re feeling right now,” he said, his tone gentle but firm.

You flushed, breaking eye contact. “I’m sorry. I know you’re married. I shouldn’t—”

“Shh,” he said softly, his hand brushing against yours. “Let’s just forget everything for a moment.”

Your breath hitched as he moved closer, his face inches from yours. His lips brushed yours, hesitating at first, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, but the weight of everything unsaid between you made it feel electric.

You pulled back suddenly, guilt flooding you. “I can’t. This isn’t right. You have a wife—”

“Don’t think about that right now,” he interrupted, his voice a low murmur. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Just stay with me.”

His lips captured yours again, this time more insistent. The kiss deepened, a hunger building between you as the world outside faded away. His hands roamed down your body and you couldn’t stop yourself from melting into his touch.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth. Your breath came in shallow gasps as he moved lower, his hands gripping your hips firmly. When he reached the waistband of your sweatpants, he paused, looking up at you for permission.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with both desire and restraint.

You nodded, unable to form words, your heart pounding in your chest.

With deliberate care, he tugged down your sweats and underwear, his lips pressing gentle kisses along your thighs as he did. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with awe.

With his eyes locked on yours, his head lowered between your legs. His lips captured your bundle of nerves, sucking softly as a soft gasp left your lips. You pressed them together, not wanting to wake anyone to see what was taking place. His tongue flicked your clit sending more pleasure than you had ever felt throughout your body, making you shiver.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured between your legs.

You nodded frantically, fingers lacing in his silky hair as he continued feasting on your pussy. His tongue glided from your hole back up to your clit then down again. He circled your hole, letting his tongue slip inside as he collected your juices on his tongue. Your free hand clamped over your mouth, desperately trying to keep quiet as he slipped a finger inside your pussy.

Your back arched from the bed as his skilled finger curled and his tongue sucked on your clit with ferocity.

“You’re doing so well, cum for me, cum on my tongue and my fingers,” he whispered.

Your fingers curled into the thin blanket beneath you as he continued, each flick of his tongue and thrust of his finger sending shivers down your spine. His movements became overwhelming and you pressed your lips together tightly as an intense orgasm washed over you making your back arch from the small bed.

“That’s it, good girl, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered.

In that moment, the fear and chaos of the games melted away, leaving you wanting more. You trembled beneath him, breathless and aching, your skin tingling from the intensity of his tongue. “Young-il,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the dormitory. “I need more. Please.”

He stilled, his dark eyes meeting yours, searching for something. “Are you sure?” he murmured.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes,” you whispered, your lips brushing his ear as your fingers gripped his shoulders.

His lips curved into a soft smirk, his hands sliding up your sides. “Then beg for it,” he said, his voice low and commanding, with dominance you hadn’t expected.

Your cheeks burned, but the desperation in your chest won out. “Please,” you murmured, your voice soft but trembling with need. “Please, Young-il, I need you. I need you to fuck me.”

“As you wish,” he interrupted. He shifted to sit back on his knees, his hands deftly tugging his sweats and boxers down. He watched your reaction as he freed his hard cock, his gaze heavy.

“Look at you,” he murmured, one hand stroking over your hip as his other lined himself up at your leaking entrance. “So perfect, so beautiful. I don’t deserve this, but, God, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

You gasped as he pressed his cock into you slowly, his whispered praises filling the space between you. “That’s it,” he encouraged, his hand braced beside your head. “You’re doing so well. So tight, so perfect for me.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts measured and deliberate. The quiet around you made every sound amplified, the soft rustle of sheets, skin slapping, the hitch in your breath, and his murmured words of adoration. “Cum for me,” he whispered into your ear, his voice cracking with need. “Do it, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You cried out softly, your hands clutching him as you surrendered, your body shuddering against his as your pussy gushed on his raw cock. He held you through it, his touch firm and grounding.

Moments later, he shifted, his body warm and solid beside you. “I’m not done with you,” he murmured, lifting your leg over his hip as he slid into your throbbing cunt.

The angle made you gasp, your hand flying to his arm as he held you close. “You’re f-fucking me so good,” you managed, your voice breathless.

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Stay with me. Feel everything, just like this. You’re perfect, you hear me? Perfect.”

Your breaths mingled as he began pounding into you harder and the rhythm grew more intense, both of you trying to hold back the sounds that threatened to escape. His lips pressed against your ear. “Cum with me,” he urged, his voice a broken whisper. “Cum on my cock as I cum inside you, sweetheart.”

You clung to him as your orgasm took ahold of you once more, the world fading away as waves of warmth washed over you. His grip tightened, and his soft groan against your skin coupled with the feeling of his cum filling your pussy were the only confirmation you needed that he’d joined you.

When the high ended, he rolled onto his back, pulling you against his chest. His lips pressed gentle kisses along your hairline, your forehead, your cheeks. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he murmured, his voice soft and tender. “You’re going to get out of here. I promise.”

You nestled against him, his arms wrapped securely around you, the fear and chaos of the games momentarily forgotten.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ me & my husband ]❜

ft. the salesman (gong ji-cheol) x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ you don’t need your husband to be perfect, you just want him to be honest┊3.3k words; part two (here)

contains: written before s2 came out!! probably ooc or inaccurate, angst with spots of fluff & a bittersweet ending? reader’s pov mostly, suspicions of cheating, lack of communication, mentioned age gap, random inaccurate lore for the salesman

➤ author's note: yeah, i saw the sudden uptick in notes on that gong yoo post i made and realized season 2 came out which i completely forgot about. i intend to watch it soon as possible and write fics for it as well as (probably) add new characters to my writing list, but for now, please be content with this!!

₊˚ʚ 💌₊˚✧ this fic was heavily inspired by “emotionally intoxicated” by aurasaurora!

gong ji-cheol is the poster image for the ideal husband. he’s always been like that from the moment you met him, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the luckiest woman in the world when he calls himself yours. he’s tall and handsome, someone who catches everyone’s eye despite his only being focused on you. he’s wealthy and hard-working, able to call a luxurious mansion your home, and willing to buy you anything your heart desires as long as you ask for it. he spoils you rotten with that money, gifting you expensive things even if you didn’t ask if it reminded him of you. he’s doting, always sure to smother you in affection with kisses and cuddles whenever together to make it known how much he adores you. the sex is great too, he makes you feel wanted and desirable without ever leaving you unsatisfied. 

most importantly though, you love him, and he loves you. the last two years of marriage have been so blissful, and there isn’t a single thing you would change.

at least that’s what you believe most of the time.

you like to think you know a lot about him, and in a way, you do. you know his favorite color, how he likes his coffee, what he usually orders at restaurants, the type of wine he prefers over beer, the exaggerated shocked fasces he likes to make, how his favorite chore is folding the laundry, how his least favorite is doing the dishes because he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty, the name of his childhood pet, what positions he likes to cuddle or fuck in, the names he’s thinking of giving to your child when they are finally born— there are so many little details you know about him, yet at times you feel like you don't know anything at all.

you don’t really know much about his childhood aside from a few random stories, he claims there’s nothing really notable and that it was as standard as can be. you don’t know who his parents were or what they were like because he said they died when he was young, but surely that’s an important loss which must have impacted him and made youth difficult in some way? you don’t know about his past partners if he even had any, but you doubt you were his first as he was yours with a face like his. you don’t know any of his secrets, like an embarrassing moment or something sinful he might have committed in the past. 

he knew all of these things about you and the little details of your life, so why don’t you know any of the most basic things regarding your own husband?

these periods of uncertainty are few and far, but once the icy tendrils of doubt creep in, it’s difficult to shake them off when you realize you only know these things through observations and not him actually telling you. it’s a miracle your stupidity allowed you to make it this far in falling head over heels for him, getting married, and carrying his child (not that you completely regret it, you still love him, but you wish you had given it more time).

they say there are no such things as stupid questions, yet the main question you have is exactly that as it’s something every wife should know even before the marriage. it would be impressive how long you’ve been clueless about this matter if it weren’t for how often and how skilled he is in managing to evade your curiosity and steer the conversation elsewhere. you didn’t want to press on it since he seems to shut it down every time the topic is brought up and you don’t want to fight over something you technically didn’t need to know, but it weighs on you and presses into your chest with the knowledge you were being kept in the dark. 

what did your husband do for a living, exactly?

his schedule is always unpredictably changing with little rhyme or reason and it confuses you. sometimes you’ll go an entire few days without seeing him, sensing him wake up in the morning before the sun is even up, feeling him kiss you on the cheek before getting ready, and not coming back until long after you fall asleep with no communication aside from a note on the table telling you he’ll be gone for the day along with a wad of cash for you to treat yourself while he’s gone. other times he’ll be chilling at home for an entire week, waking you up with aggressive cuddles (or morning sex), making you breakfast with the morning news on in the background, and taking you out to wherever you want to go on his card in his rare casual clothing and messy wavy hair rather than the typical fancy suits and hair styled with gel. 

as far as you’re concerned, he’s a businessman of sorts, although you don’t know what company he works for or what position he has in terms of hierarchy or how an occupation of that type allows such flexibility in hours or anything at all. 

“what if he’s having an affair?”

you paused for a second before continuing the motion of slicing the cheesecake with a fork and savoring the taste in your mouth. “that’s ridiculous,” you stated simply after swallowing. “he loves me very much, and it doesn’t explain his weird schedule either.”

today was spent with some friends you met back in high school, but honestly, you were only attending out of politeness and tradition since you honestly feel like you’ve disconnected from these girls long before the current. still, you treasure the memories shared in your more formative years and wouldn’t ever say no to them if they wanted to hang out like old times. ji-cheol doesn’t bother to hide his distaste for them, calling them a miserable lot who try to drag you down at every opportunity out of jealousy for your happiness. you laugh it off, but you know deep down he’s right and yet you’re still sitting here at the cafe with them with bright smiles like their words don’t cut deep. 

“maybe he’s dating the boss— a sexy office siren type— she gives him plenty of days off and he stays with her at her beach house at jeju island or something to keep her company, and then she gives him lots of money in exchange.”

“oh my god, could you imagine?”

“can you be realistic? it sounds like you’re just writing a plot for a new drama,” you giggled, not allowing the feeling of a twisting blade in your abdomen to show on your face or the venom to drip from your words at the mere thought of the man you loved being stolen away a faceless woman who was everything you wished you were more of: more beautiful, more wealthy, more experienced, more intelligent—

“you don’t know because he’s your first love or whatever— and you’re so lucky to have been able to marry him— but men are dogs, and i don’t see why he would be the exception.”

“but he treats me so well—”

“maybe he only treats you well because you’re pregnant— he probably just feels guilty. i mean, when i was pregnant and had my first, my husband wasn’t attracted to me anymore and demanded a divorce unless i lost the baby weight.” she shrugged like it was so simple, so common, like the notion of marriage wasn’t something so deeply important and could be thrown away so easily.

“we aren’t suggesting you get a divorce, but we’re just saying you should keep an eye on him— you know? a handsome guy like him was always bound to get a lot of attention…” her laugh was shrill and high-pitched, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“right… thanks guys…”

that night, you couldn’t stop twisting and turning on the large sectional couch with thoughts rushing through your head of your husband with some other woman. the jealousy from these fictional scenarios without evidence of existence plagued you. it made you want to vomit up the negative feelings and go back to the person you were a few hours ago without the images of him cheating planted in your mind, which didn’t go unnoticed by him and caused him to ask what was bothering you as it wouldn't be good for the baby.

you hesitated for a moment, “could you tell me about your exes?”

“why are you suddenly curious about that?” he chuckled, knowing damn well that it was because of those stupid snakes masquerading as people (it truly takes one to know one) running their mouths again, but still feigning obliviousness for your sake. 

“just wondering,” you muttered. “i mean, you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, but you’re a bit older than me so…”

“and i hope to be the only one too,” he smirked confidently, making you laugh as he plopped down on the ground and rested his head on the cushion next to yours. 

it was such a casual setting in such a vast space, bringing you back to the days in your little apartment inviting him over for chicken and beer before you knew about your immense wealth and got embarrassed over your cheap dates when he was so used to expensive restaurants. he found it very endearing though, knowing you liked him for him and not his money.

“well, if you’re so curious…” he trailed off, but you weren’t quite sure if it was because of hesitation or because he simply didn’t know where to start. you can’t remember the last time a conversation like this was held to learn more about him since it was usually about you, maybe back when you first started dating and briefly discussed his late parents.

he started with his crush when he was in middle school since that was his earliest recollection of feeling love, who didn’t really count as a girlfriend or love because nothing was established and because of their age, but she was his first kiss that he ran away from right after because of how nervous he was, and it was never addressed again. apparently it was his second girlfriend who taught him everything he knew before he met you, saying she basically “trained him like a dog” to create a gentleman out of an inexperienced boy who still wasn’t quite sure how to treat a woman like a queen. she was a bit mean though, and he didn’t realize he dodged a bullet until later after realizing she was unnecessarily cruel to him for no reason multiple times if he didn’t do things exactly her way.

you suppose you always knew your husband wasn’t always the suave charmer you know him to be, but the image of younger him being clueless on matters of romance made you burst out laughing because of how you could hardly picture it.

he reached over to pinch your cheek affectionately, “are you of all people really making fun of me when you were too scared to hold my hand for me to escort you out of my car?”

“oh my god, that was on our first date, i can’t be blamed! i was shaking like crazy on that day— you had to tell me that you didn’t bite.”

“i was actually thinking about calling off our date last minute because of an emergency at work,” he confessed, “but i’m glad i didn’t and met the love of my life instead.”

“aw, you flirt.” the memory made you smile and feel all giggly inside, all the fears you had about him possibly having an affair falling away, yet there were still some lingering at the back of your mind with the mention of his job. “what happened at work?”

“nothing that important,” he said instantly like clockwork. “just some boring business things.”

you didn’t push it, not wanting to ruin the mood, but once again, your curiosity was just itching to ask more questions about his work life even if it was truly as boring as he says. you wanted to know every mundane detail whether it was what his office looked like or what the annoying co-worker did on a daily basis, anything to satiate your need to know more about this mysterious man you had made life-long vows with.

it all came to a head one night while you were cooking dinner, you heard the doorbell ring a dozen times in quick succession and answered it to find an older man with fiery red hair that seemed to match his temper. when he addressed your husband by name and verified your relationship with him, he began spewing all kinds of insults about the blood he had on his hands by luring innocent people to their deaths and you felt your heart drop. you tried to reason with him that there must have been some sort of mistake, barely able to get your words out in a fit of confusion and surprise at the absurd accusation, but he wouldn’t hear you out and pointed a finger in your face, asking if you had any idea what gong ji-cheol was doing behind your back. 

at that very moment, he was suddenly seized by two anonymous men in all black, causing him to yell out in panic as they dragged him away and stuffed him in the back of a car before quickly driving off into the night without a trace. it all happened so fast, you just stood there with your mouth open in shock, wondering if you should call the police on what looked like an abduction. 

then your husband comes running up the steps with his locked briefcase in hand, shouting out your name, asking you if you’re okay, pulling you back inside the comfort of your shared home, and checking you all over to make sure you aren’t harmed in any way. when you ask about who that man was and what he was talking about, he simply told you he was some crazy customer who was dissatisfied with the company, was looking for someone to blame, and promised to tell you the details later. 

you didn’t tell him that you didn’t believe him, just pursed your lips and furrowed your brow for a second then let go of the topic like you always do, taking his coat off his shoulders with a peck on the lips asking how his day was. he reciprocated the kiss, said it was fine without anything special, and that he would shower before having dinner, something he didn’t really need to say since you already knew but stated anyway as per evening routine. 

as he headed up the stairs and disappeared from sight, you stared at the locked briefcase resting crookedly on the little entryway table and paused for a moment. if you did this, it would be a breach of privacy and a sign of growing distrust in your husband, but it could also answer all of the questions that never cease. 

your hands wouldn’t stop shaking involuntarily as you felt the cold black metal underneath your fingertips, marveling at the smooth material clean of any scratches or dents. fidgeting with the built-in combination lock, six number sequences started rushing through your mind as you started to hastily run through your options with a focus on dates. you were determined to only do this three times since you had no idea if an alarm would be set off or if it would close off permanently.

his birthday?

an electronic beep went off indicating you were incorrect, making you nervous.

your birthday?

wrong again, you only had one attempt left. you swallowed, shaking the accumulating sweat off your hands.

the date of your wedding?

you gasped as the locks suddenly flipped open and lightly knocked against the briefcase. it was undone, you could open it at any moment now and see it all.

and yet you still hesitated during this golden opportunity. was it the fact that the passcode to his most secret possession was the day you got married? was it guilt for going behind your husband’s back for answers instead of directly asking him? was it because you were afraid of what you would find if you discovered the red-haired man was telling the truth?

whatever it was, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and locked it again, leaving it looking untouched and went back to playing dinner.

there was a heavy tension present at the dinner table that night, the only conversation present being him interrogating you about what the red-haired man talked about word-for-word. not really interrogating since his tone of voice was still calm and gentle as he asked questions, but you could see him fidgeting with his fork and not leaving much room for any other topic until he was sure you told him everything. he then sighed and claimed the man was insane, a gambling addict who was too deep in debt to afford treatment and was trying to drag him into his misery after meeting at the subway station. 

“ji-cheol?”

he froze for a second, not used to hearing you use his real name rather than a pet name. “yes?”

“what do you do for a living, exactly?”

a pause, you watched him fidget with his chopsticks and shift the grains of rice around. “you know, business stuff— nothing you need to concern yourself about—“

“but i don’t know! that’s the thing!” you felt tears starting to well up behind your eyes, letting two years of frustration trickle through. “i know it doesn’t seem that important for me to know, but is it really so important that you leave me in the dark about it for the three years we’ve been lovers? and now some guy comes to our doorstep and tells me about how your job is playing games with people at the subway station to make them participate in death games?!” you took a deep breath, calming yourself down, “please, be honest with me, that’s all i want…”

“i-i…” that was the first time you’ve ever heard him stutter, and if the situation wasn’t so tense, you would be proud you finally got one-up on him. “i can’t say… it’s for your own safety and mine.”

“so he was right?”

he remained silent, trying to think of some way to counter what seong gi-hun had told you, but if you didn’t believe the elaborate lie he already told you and wanted to learn more, then he knew this was the end of the road. 

“i-i need some time to think…” you looked defeated and it broke his heart. “i’m going to my mom’s house tonight, i’ll be back tomorrow—“ you got up, not bothering to pack anything aside from your phone and your wallet.

he had prepared for you to start screaming and crying (not that he would blame you, i mean, who would willingly stay with a man who was complicit in mass murder), demanding a divorce and packing your things to shut the door for him never to be seen again with your unborn child. the strangely calm reaction was both a relief and extremely unsettling to him.

“i won’t be mad if you decide not to come back” he stated plainly, defeated in a state you’ve never seen him in before. “whatever choice you make, i’ll support you, just know i love you— more than anything else in this world.”

you stared at him blankly through the open doorway. perhaps your husband isn’t the perfect man you believed him to be, but he was as honest as he possibly could have been with you regarding the matter, and that’s enough. 

“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning.” that’s how you feel at the moment, but you don’t know if you’ll feel the same way tomorrow morning when it sinks in.